Chapter 110
Auserre remained frozen in place for what felt like an eternity, her mind completely short-circuiting at the revelation of the kind of student she had unknowingly taken under her wing. For perhaps the first time in her life, Auserre—the infamous Water Princess feared across countless universes—found herself utterly lost. Her thoughts raced faster than the most powerful supercomputers of the modern age, yet no conclusion came. For once, she had no idea what to do with Kei Y.
Kei Y… the hungry, stubborn, foolish brat she’d taken under her wing… was something she could scarcely fathom.
God Sparks were already considered rare and invaluable, existing as figures of legend and envy. Yet even their numbers, in the grand scheme, were finite—set in stone by existence itself. With enough data, enough observation, their identities could at least be predicted, traced, or eventually uncovered.
But Pristine Aether… Pristine Aether was something else entirely.
The value of Pristine Aether wasn’t just immeasurable—it couldn’t even beconceptualized. It existed in a realm of its own, a tier of existence so high above the ordinary that Auserre’s practical, battle-tested instincts screamed at her that Kei Y’s mere presence was a incalculable treasure waiting to be unearthed..
For context, Auserre herself had spent so much time, clawing and fighting to claim a few fragmented landmasses rich in Origin Aether—and even then, her grasp was tenuous. She had far fewer cultivation territories under her control than most believed, all because Origin Aether was a resource that drove gods to madness.
She had stood against Supreme Gods, contended with them multiple times over these cultivation zones. Some tried to negotiate, others attempted forceful takeovers. On more than one occasion, she had been forced into brutal life-or-death battles against those in the Divine Realm just to hold onto her hard-earned claim.
Even then, her claim was considered illegitimate in the eyes of those born in higher realms.
Beings of immense stature, those from Ascended and Divine Realms alike, had long mocked the notion that a woman from a low-tier galaxy—a backwater planet with a cultivation ceiling barely scraping the Mortal Realm—had any right to such resources. Once she became a Commander of Realms, and Aether Vessel at the Mortal Realm on Earth, she had fled her planet like others before her did, left her own galaxy behind to advance into a higher cultivation realm, and it was only her freakish talent—her recognition by an Ardent—that allowed her to rise above annihilation. Had it been otherwise, she would have died in obscurity, her cultivation zones looted by more “deserving” hands.
Origin Aether was simply too precious. Anything associated with it was viewed as priceless, as relics to be hoarded, worshipped, or fought over. Origin Aether was the highest purity of energy, capable of drawing out 100% of a Force’s true nature—unblemished, untainted, pure, clean, raw power in its most natural state.
Those who cultivated with Origin Aether saw their realms advance at breakneck speed, their Force progressions accelerate to insane levels, their skills purified to razor-sharp efficiency. Every breakthrough became smoother, every attack more devastating, every defense sturdier, simply because there was no flaw in the energy they used.
And Kei Y… Kei Y had surpassed even that.
Because Pristine Aether was above Origin Aether.
It was the unfiltered, untouched wellspring from the earliest days of existence—so potent, so pure, it didn’t merely enhance cultivation. It redefined it.
And Pristine Aether… stood even higher.
Far, far higher.
Not just purer than Origin Aether—it was several magnitudes greater. To the point it didn’t simply interact with existence—it overrode it. It didn’t enforce changes like Divine Realm skills or rewrite outcomes through raw force. No—Pristine Aether whispered to existence, and existence simply… obeyed.
It was not forceful conquest of reality.
It was reality yielding itself willingly.
To put it simply, he holds the authority to command the multiverse itself—to tell existence what he wants, and it listens. Reality bends, not out of kindness or fairness, but because his will demands it. Of course, the extent of his influence depends on his ability and mastery. He can’t yet force the stars to collapse or resurrect the dead on a whim. But even now, in the early stages of the Mortal Realm, as a mere Recruit Class, he’s already shown what that authority looks like. He can glance at someone, reach into their very core, and tell existence, “That power is mine now.” And it listens. It happens. The only real limit is how far he dares to believe in what he can do.
And this monster of a student hadn’t even known what he had. Worse, he’d casually thrown it around like it was some ordinary trinket.
Auserre felt her hands shaking.
Her breathing quickened.
She didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, collapse, or run.
Because one thing was clear.
Kei Y wasn’t a prodigy.
He wasn’t a genius.
He was a living, untainted treasure… one that no amount of preparation could have readied her for.
And there he was—this living, untainted treasure of the multiverse—stripping himself down, gagging violently as the overwhelming stench assaulted his senses. He cursed the world, complaining about how ungodly and outright unholy the scent was, swearing that just being near it was pure, unfiltered torture.
Nearly butt-naked, he bolted across the room, practically flinging his clothes off mid-run, deliberately avoiding the koi fish pond—because, between angering Auserre or facing Mia’s wrath, there was no contest. Mia would haunt his nightmares ten times over. Instead, he dove headfirst into a nearby body of water, thrashing around in a desperate attempt to scrub the filth off. Unfortunately for him, the impurities clung like leeches, seeping into every damn crevice like they had a personal vendetta.
“LADY, FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING, STOP STANDING THERE LIKE A FROZEN CHICKEN AND HELP ME WASH THIS OFF!” Kei Y howled. “IT SMELLS LIKE ROTTEN ASS THAT’S BEEN FESTERING FOR A DECADE—WHY DOES IT BURN?!”
At this point, he was dry-heaving, half-drowning, half-vomiting in the water while Auserre stood frozen, watching one of the most absurdly talented individuals in existence flail about like a toddler covered in mud. She struggled to reconcile the monstrous potential he possessed with… whatever this was.
After a long, baffled silence, she blinked and muttered, “Why don’t you just… will it away?”
“YOU CRACKHEAD, WHAT DO I LOOK LIKE, A GOD?!” Kei Y roared back, voice cracking. “JUST HELP ME GET THIS CRAP OFF ME!”
With a simple swish of her hand, Auserre summoned a wave of cleansing water that swept over Kei Y’s body, scrubbing away every last trace of filth and leaving him fresh and pleasantly scented. Kei Y let out a deep, satisfied sigh, slumping in the water with genuine relief.
“That stuff is ungodly torture,” he muttered, his entire demeanor loosening up—only to glance up and catch Auserre staring at him like he’d grown two heads.
“Didn’t you just force someone to ingest that… filth?” she asked, completely floored by the sheer audacity.
Kei Y just shrugged, casually climbing out and pulling his clothes back on. “I was planning to kill her anyway. It was a heat-of-the-moment decision. Figured—why not? She wasn’t gonna live long enough to be traumatized by it.”
Without wasting another second, he checked over his equipment, noting his nearly empty projectile sleeves with a disapproving click of his tongue. His attention promptly shifted to the crafting corner of the room, and without the slightest hesitation, he strolled over and started rummaging through Auserre’s premium materials like they were his personal stockpile, immediately getting to work crafting a fresh batch of projectiles.
Auserre stood there, arms slack at her sides, watching this chaotic whirlwind of murderous talent treat her residence like a workshop, completely unsure if she should stop him… or just let him keep going.
“So… aren’t you going to mention your Unique Skill? Or the fact you possess Pristine Aether?” Auserre asked, arms crossed as she leaned against a nearby wall, her voice laced with a mix of curiosity and exasperation.
Kei Y barely looked up from his crafting, fingers deftly working the materials. “I dunno, should I? Don’t really get what the big fuss is about,” he replied casually. “Is there something I should be asking you about?”
Auserre blinked, momentarily thrown off by his sincerity. Realizing he truly had no clue about the value of what he possessed, she sighed and began explaining.
She walked him through the foundations—how aether was graded by purity, starting from Common Aether used by the average populace, to Refined Aether wielded by elites, to Origin Aether, considered the standard of peak talent across realms. She explained how Origin Aether allowed for cleaner force conversions, purer constructs, and stronger skills, why it was sought after by clans, sects, and kingdoms alike. She summarized how entire wars had been fought over individuals capable of wielding Origin Aether.
“And Pristine Aether…” she continued, her tone growing sharper, “Pristine Aether sits above all of that. You’re not just bending cleaner aether—you’re wielding the only thing cleaner, and more untouched, than raw existence itself.”
Kei Y raised an eyebrow, holding up two completed orb projectiles, one infused normally and the other saturated with a thread of his Pristine Aether. “This stuff?” he asked, nonchalantly tossing both toward her.
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Auserre caught them mid-air, her fingers instinctively rotating the orbs, her senses probing the internal structures. Her eyes widened. The craftsmanship was solid, but what truly floored her was the one laced with Pristine Aether. It pulsed—stable, radiant, and terrifyingly pure.
“You… you’re already crafting with it,” she whispered in disbelief. “Not just channeling it… you’re directly embedding it into your weapons…”
“With this… just the weapons you craft would put you leagues above your peers,” Auserre marveled, running her fingers along the smooth, radiant surface of the projectile. “You wouldn’t need to exert much force to defeat those above your realm—let alone anyone in your own.”
“You think so?” Kei Y asked, voice relaxed, almost dismissive as he continued his work.
Auserre gave him a look. “Do you not want to use weapons forged with Pristine Aether?”
In response, Kei Y casually pulled out Gale Fang and the unassuming bamboo shoot he’d picked up from the fractured zone, tossing both toward her without much thought. She caught them easily, examining the two. One was a plain bamboo staff, worn from use but stable, and the other—a blade etched with detailed wind runes, its quality polished enough to qualify for gold-grade classification.
She tilted her head, holding up the bamboo. “Let me guess… you prefer this stick?”
“Isn’t that more in line with what you’re teaching us?” Kei Y shrugged, tightening a grip wrap on another crafted projectile.
“Even before you had us stop spending stat points to brute-force our strength, I already followed the natural way,” Kei Y said, flexing his hand, feeling the subtle power coursing through his newly strengthened body after stepping into the Washed Body realm. “I only used stat points early on to get a feel for how my body changed… but honestly, I always preferred the natural route.”
His grip tightened, sensing the difference with clearer perception. “And I regret even those points I did spend. Sure, they give quick results, but the payoff from steady growth feels… deeper. More refined. I guess that’s the gap between you and the others who left Earth just to force their way through the Mortal Realm, huh?”
Earlier, when Auserre explained the value of Origin Aether, she mentioned how she had left Earth to pursue genuine breakthroughs into the Ascended Realm and beyond. Earth—and the galaxy it resided in—simply lacked both quality and quantity of aether. For those trapped in the Mortal Realm, ascending was a brutal struggle, the thin, diluted aether making breakthroughs slow and unreliable. She left to seek rare opportunities without sacrificing her foundation.
Knowing his master’s temperament, Kei Y could easily piece together the truth. She walked the natural path, refusing the easy crutch of stat point enhancements. And because of that choice, her growth compounded over time—her foundation becoming ironclad, her strength scaling far beyond what most could reach. She didn’t just catch up to those who’d surpassed her… she overtook them, leaving their shortcuts in the dust.
“I don’t think someone like you ever prioritized the quality of your equipment on your journey to the strength you have now,” Kei Y mused, casually aligning the bamboo shoot across his lap as he carved into a fresh projectile. “And I doubt Grandmaster would’ve ever let you rely on such a crutch either.”
He glanced up, his tone relaxed but pointed. “If anything… just knowing you is enough to suggest equipment quality shouldn’t matter. Skill should. Aptitude in wielding something… that’s what actually counts, right?”
Auserre’s gaze lingered on him, sharp, curious, but she didn’t interrupt.
“Take Gale Fang,” Kei Y continued, nodding toward the sword nearby. “It’s great. Does the job. But it’s still a restriction. If my swordsmanship isn’t good enough to counter my opponents, if my technique can’t read or counter their attacks… then no matter how good my weapon is, it’ll drag me down.”
His fingers tightened slightly, finishing the edge of the projectile before resting it beside the bamboo. His voice dipped into something calmer—steadier.
“Am I supposed to blame my loss on the quality of my blade? Say, ‘Oh, if I had a stronger sword, I’d have won’?. When I first stepped into this cultivation world… all I had was a tree branch,” Kei Y said, tapping the bamboo lightly, the wood now glowing a soft, natural orange as lines of aether traced intricate patterns along its surface.
“And it worked. More than worked,” Kei Y said, the orange glow along the bamboo staff pulsing softly beneath his fingers. “I honed my technique with it. Refined myself with it. Turned it into my Windblade Staff… and after that, it felt different. Like… I stopped relying on just the weapon… and more on the abilities it gave me.”
His hand tightened around the bamboo, his tone steady but introspective. “It felt like I started depending more on what my weapon could do… instead of focusing on myself. And that’s dangerous. There’s too much room for me to improve, too many gaps in my foundation.”
He let out a breath, eyes distant in thought. “Sure, I won against them… but those recruits? They were better than me when it came to weapon handling. Hermes—he fought with daggers and controlled his movement at high speeds while staying sharp and precise. Artemis and Apollo—flawless marksmen. It just so happened I’m good at fighting from a distance too.”
His jaw flexed slightly, tone sharpening. “Even Dione… if I fought her head-on using weapons alone, she’d win. Not because her golden spears are better than Gale Fang… but because she’s more skilled. I might have unfair advantages, sure… but if I keep leaning on them, I’ll only stunt my own growth.”
As he spoke, Kei Y’s fingers drifted toward Gale Fang. Without hesitation, he ran his thumb along the etched wind runes, pulling them away with aether precision. The delicate carvings faded, the gleaming edge dulled, and the weapon’s refined aura vanished in an instant.
From Gold Grade… to common grade.
A simple, wooden blade once again.
And he didn’t flinch.
Didn’t hesitate.
Didn’t regret it.
Because for Kei Y… it wasn’t about wielding the strongest sword.
It was about becoming someone strong enough… to not need one.
His eyes softened, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “Even Sanu. She worked her ass off mastering martial arts from the ground up. I’ll be honest—if we fought, I’d probably lose to a scarf choke before her Vine Force even gets involved.”
Auserre absorbed his words quietly, her previous assumptions about Kei Y shifting. His philosophy… his self-awareness… it wasn’t arrogance, nor blind reliance on power. It was someone who understood the sheer scope of cultivation—the dangers of shortcuts—and chose discipline over entitlement.
Given the world Kei Y came from… it made sense.
Auserre felt a flicker of pride mixed into her exasperation.
“Well, that’s one way to look at it,” Auserre said, not dismissing his words but offering a counterpoint with a slight smile.
“You’re absolutely right about mastering combat and weaponry as you grow—about not becoming overly reliant on your gear. But,” she continued, her tone shifting to something firmer, “there comes a point where weapons make the difference. No matter how good you are swinging a sword, there’s a limit. That’s when the quality of your weapon and your aether starts deciding life and death.”
With a casual flick of her hand, a water mirror formed in front of them, the surface shimmering before stabilizing to reveal the current state of the tournament. The chaotic clash between Amunar and Greece had already become a tale of its own, but the tournament continued as scheduled. Members from every kingdom stood on the arena stages, locked in fierce battles as eliminations steadily continued.
“Look,” Auserre gestured toward the mirror, “I admire your commitment to sharpening yourself, to relying on your foundation. It’s the right mentality. But don’t undervalue the significance of your aether, Khenu. With Pristine Aether, the class options you’ll have when you hit Level 10 will be… ridiculous.”
Her eyes gleamed slightly, the weight of her experience bleeding into her words. “You’ll have class choices most cultivators couldn’t dream of. Exalted paths that will seem limitless in quantity. And when it comes time to form your core and step into the Soldier Class… well, doing that with Pristine Aether will put you in a league of your own. Commander Classes? Iron Bones cultivators? They won’t be obstacles—you’ll treat them like stepping stones.”
She lowered the mirror, gaze sharp and unflinching. “You may not realize it now… but you’re walking a path where the only true opponent will be the limits you place on yourself.”
Auserre studied him closely. She had just laid bare the sheer weight of his potential—how limitless his path could be, how the mere nature of his aether could elevate him far beyond his peers. Yet, when her gaze met his, Kei Y only looked back at her with that same unbothered calm… like none of it really mattered.
And for some reason, that expression made her chest tighten unexpectedly.
“None of this truly matters to him… does it?” Auserre thought, unsettled, as Kei Y simply resumed crafting, focused entirely on the projectiles in his hands.
After a long pause, her curiosity slipped out. “Khenu… what do you want from life?”
“Not much, really, if I’m honest,” Kei Y replied without hesitation.
“Then why do you want to get stronger?”
Kei Y’s movements didn’t falter. “I don’t want to. It’s just… what choice do I have? It’s either that or die—and dying wouldn’t be the worst thing, I guess.”
Auserre’s brows furrowed. “You’re… okay with dying?”
“Not really,” he admitted with a shrug, “but if it happens, it happens. Nothing I can do about it at that point. As long as I can say I truly gave it my all, then I’ve got no regrets. There’s no shame in being the weaker opponent.”
His fingers traced aether patterns effortlessly as new throwing needles formed between his fingers.
“And what if people you care about die because you were too weak to protect them?” Auserre pressed.
Kei Y’s tone stayed even, expression unchanged. “Out of my control. I can spend my whole life chasing power, but that doesn’t mean others aren’t doing the same. If the people I care about die, it means they couldn’t protect themselves… or I wasn’t enough. Either way, it just is what it is.”
Her grip unconsciously tightened. “Khenu… are you happy?”
“Sure,” Kei Y replied simply, glancing up at her.
But Auserre lingered on that answer, watching his face, his body language, the casual way he said it. She couldn’t tell if it was honesty… or just what he thought she wanted to hear.
She wondered if he even knew what happiness felt like.
“I guess…” Kei Y muttered, hands halting over the half-finished projectile. “The only thing that’d make me really happy… is if my life had some actual value when I die.”
He glanced up, voice softer but firm. “If even one person could say my life mattered… that it wasn’t a waste… that’d be enough.”
A faint smile tugged at his lips—one that carried sincerity… but also that distant, hollow sharpness that lingered in people too used to being disposable.
Auserre sighed, stepping forward to ruffle his hair. “That’d be nice… huh?”
Auserre internally resolves, “Fine. If no one else will value him, I’ll make sure the multiiverse does.”
Kei Y blinked up at her, a little caught off guard, before shrugging and returning to his crafting.
“Anyway, hurry up with those projectiles,” Auserre teased, her gaze narrowing slightly. “You’re even using Pristine Aether in some of them now—so much for ‘not relying on it,’ huh?”
Kei Y didn’t even blink. “Nope. Just… I’ve seen some people I’m excited to fight. I wanna go all out for those,” he admitted, his grin widening, eyes dancing with mischief and eagerness.
“Don’t be mad when it happens, alright? I’ll be going all out,” he said, grinning so wide his eyes shut into crescents.
Auserre groaned, massaging her temple. “I seriously don’t know what to do with you. Fine. Go wild. You can disguise your Bond Unique Skill through combat runes—we’ll just pass it off as some weird combat art. Just… keep your ocular skill hidden, please.”
Her tone turned sharp again. “But speaking of full strength—we need to talk about your Spark. The tournament’s moving fast. You’ll be called back soon since you cleared five opponents. We don’t have much time before you head back, so it’s now or never. Weapon? Concept? Skill? Item? You’ve gotta pick a direction.”
“Oh, I’ve already decided,” Kei Y said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Thought I told you. Guess I forgot.”
Auserre stared, deadpan. “Of course you did.”
Her mouth twitched into a grin. “And since you hid Pristine Aether… anything else you’d like to confess to your master before you break what’s left of my sanity?”
Kei Y tapped his chin. “Hmm… actually, yeah. Since you’ve been around the multiverse, maybe you’ve seen something like this before?”
With a casual snap of his fingers, his status screen blinked into view.
“Huh. Sure. What am I supposed to be—” Auserre’s words died.
Her eyes locked onto a flickering title near the top.
[He Who—]
Her pupils shrank to dots. Her body convulsed, her mouth frothed, and she collapsed, limbs seizing uncontrollably before she hit the floor in a heap.
Kei Y blinked once, crouched beside her, and calmly checked her pulse. “Well… not dead. Probably counts for something.”
Activating Pristine Aether, he pushed Healing Force through her convulsing body, stabilizing her.
His gaze drifted to the pulsing screen still hanging in the air, the blinking [He Who Denies Fate] flashing like a smug gremlin.
“You really like causing problems, huh?” Kei Y said, tone flat.
Glancing down at Auserre’s twitching limbs, he muttered, “Do I… get experience if she dies from this?”
Silence answered.
“…Eh, wouldn’t be right anyway,” he said, keeping the healing stream steady. “Not like I need the experience points.”
He leaned back, settling into his work as Auserre’s body started to relax… while the mischievous title blinked brighter, like it was just getting started.