Chapter 157 – A Strange Cultivation Experience – V
The humid heat of the forest clung to the skin like a warm blanket, and the night sky seemed to sing with ancestral sounds—the lazy croaking of frogs, the rhythmic chirping of nocturnal birds, and, in the background, the serene roar of waterfalls cascading from the floating mountains like liquid veils in the dark. Embers crackled, sending sparks into the night, and the scent of roasted gorilla meat still lingered stubbornly in the air.
Glenn still didn’t fully understand what was happening to him. It was as if his senses had been mutilated—not physically, but in a more subtle, internal way. The perception that was once multifaceted, capable of detecting gravitational fields and the electrical pulses of his surroundings, had been silenced. Now, only one presence answered: spatial energy.
It was as if, figuratively, out of five senses, only one remained functional. There was a clear sense of loss. A feeling of sensory amputation. But paradoxically, there was also clarity. A focus that had been impossible to reach before. As if the noise had finally stopped.
Silas leaned against a rock like it was a throne carved for his eternal rest, his red robe open at the chest, revealing skin as white and cracked as ancient porcelain. Without his usual cigarette—a rarity, like rain in a desert—he seemed strangely more lucid... which didn’t mean, in any way, more gentle.
"Having two affinities has become the new status toy in Atlas," he began, half singing his words like someone complaining about an expensive dish served cold. "Strength, versatility, power... all that crap that makes teenagers think they’re invincible. And then came the convenient myth: those with only one affinity are weak."
He laughed. "Gift-wrapped bullshit."
Glenn, his body aching and his eyes half-closed with exhaustion, merely turned his head toward the old man, attentive.
"Single-affinity mages are the real sculptors of energy," Silas went on, his voice soaked in irony disguised as wisdom. "They have to refine their power to the bone. No handy combos. No hiding flaws behind some elemental trick. Just the fist and the essence."
He took a long drink from his canteen, smacked his lips, and turned his bandaged gaze toward the flames. Even with his eyes covered in black cloth, it felt like he saw Glenn better than anyone else could.
"All because of the damned noise. Ever heard an orchestra where every musician plays a different song at the same time? That’s what happens when you cultivate with multiple affinities. It’s energetic cacophony. Your energy pathways scream, your core panics... and there you are, trying to hear a whisper in the middle of the chaos."
The words lingered in the air, blending with the sound of the waterfalls that, for a brief moment, seemed to fall silent in the weighty hush that followed.
"You see everything, kid," Silas concluded with a crooked grin. "But you don’t see shit."