Boundless Cultivation-Chapter 97 - How did you grow so strong?

The noise of the guards engaged in their morning sword drills jolted Alaric like an alarm bell. A wave of irritation slithered through his chest as his mind struggled to regain clarity in his groggy state.

A desire to silence all the noise by pressing on a snooze button burned in his chest. However, the rational and more disciplined side of his mind quickly roused from its slumber.

I’ve slept longer than usual today. All the muscles in his body protested with a dull ache as he attempted to get up. But it was the uninvited brain fog that truly dulled his mood.

Yesterday had been tough. After defeating Alpha Prime and exiting the tutorial rift, Alaric swiftly retired to his bed. He didn’t even have the appetite to eat dinner. Now, his grumbling stomach and the weakened body let him know just how foolish he had been.

It seemed that his good sense had left his body yesterday, along with all the energy and mana. No matter how strong a cultivator had become, it wasn’t a good idea to deny its sustenance.

Fortunately, breakfast was already served on the bedside table - chicken broth, some sliced fruits, and custard - just what he liked in the morning.

Pushing through the laziness that hung over his body, he quickly brushed his teeth, and dove into his breakfast. For a brief few minutes, his mind was laser-focused on devouring his meal.

Chicken broth had never tasted so divine. And the sliced fruits - they burst into flavorful bombs inside his mouth. The custard just melted his heart. Every single bite was so scrumptious that a tear escaped his eye.

Finally, he released a burp after quenching his insatiable hunger by drinking all the water left in the jar.

The initial brain-dead feeling ceased as his body slowly replenished its energy. However, the dull ache still followed him as he slowly made his way out of the mansion.

Wounds suffered inside the tutorial rift vanished when cultivators returned to the real world. However, it still left a phantom pain that played a cruel trick on the mind. Alaric supposed the pain in his body would subside by the end of the day, now that he had eaten something.

A wave of nostalgia hit him as he witnessed the guards practicing their sword drills under the pleasant morning sun. The same moves, but new faces. Many of the new recruits during that period had been promoted to sergeants and captains by now, while many more had been dispatched to guard the house’s commercial properties.

Memories from seven years ago flashed by his eyes in an instant, eliciting a happy grin on his face. The form of a small, seven-year-old child struggling to do simple push-ups or complete a lap around the field, the daily sword training with Captain Aldric, and of course, the sparring matches with his friends a few years later.

He relished the bittersweet feeling slowly building inside his chest and wondered how his friends - Rowan, George, and Gareth - were doing nowadays.

How far have you climbed, Rowan? His fingers curled into a fist in excitement. An intense desire to spar with Rowan surged inside his chest before being replaced by quiet solitude.

He had grown so strong now, and accomplished almost every major goal he wanted to before leaving for the academy. A solid mana core, a fully reforged body, and his superior mana manipulation ability.

He had even partially-awakened six of his seven chakras, acquired his true vision ability, and managed to awaken the bloodline of his paternal lineage. Still, a sense of hollowness gripped his chest, refusing to leave.

But Alaric didn’t hate it. In fact, he welcomed that feeling with open arms, refusing to snub it by cycling his sacral chakra. It has a constant reminder of how much he missed his friends and yearned to meet them again.

Inhaling a deep breath, he finally dismissed those thoughts as he marched towards the main building in search of his father. Edgar would probably be there already. As much as he wanted to simply relax and unwind for the day, there was work to do.

He only had a month left to get used to his newly reforged body and conquer the hidden boss of the final zone. Not to mention, he would need to ascend to Tier 2. Besides, how could he surprise his friends if he didn’t absolutely demolish them with his power when they met again?

***

“Come in,” a deep voice echoed from inside his father’s office in response to his knocking. A slight discomfort reared its head as he pushed open the door and entered the room bathed in warm colors.

Even after all these years, he still couldn’t get over the feeling of being an impostor whenever he met Count Eustace. The count slowly placed his quill to the side, before gently resting his hands over the thin stack of paperwork on his desk.

His sharp eyes roved over his form, as if trying to discern some truth hidden deep. In such moments, Alaric’s heart fluttered as he wondered if a father's instinct was strong enough to penetrate through the ruse of pretending to be his child.

He wasn’t afraid of any punishment, only of his capacity to deliver a brutal, unintended truth that could ravage the man’s heart.

Fortunately, his father had his own reasons to keep contact with him at a minimal level. In fact, in all these years, he can count the number of times he had spoken with the count directly on his fingers.

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A part of him was glad for that arrangement. He didn’t want to form a deep attachment with that man, lest he couldn’t overcome his guilt when the truth was uncovered somehow.

Another part of him experienced sorrow at being denied the opportunity to experience fatherly love - something he sorely missed.

“Sit down, my boy,” the count said as he gestured for him to take a seat. Alaric obliged and took a seat, just in time to notice a shadowy form materialize a few steps behind his father.

The head-butler had a smile etched into his face. Perhaps he could already guess why Alaric had come to visit the count.

Alaric couldn’t really discuss the events he had gone through inside the final zone. None of the adults had progressed as far, hence limiting their access to that information. But that wasn’t his goal.

When he informed them he was ready to ascend to Tier 2, both of them seemed delighted. However, when he proudly declared that he had achieved a supreme grade reforged body, both of them displayed completely different reactions.

Edgar grinned wider than ever, as if he couldn’t believe Alaric had finally achieved what he had promised years ago. He guessed if they weren’t in the presence of the count, Edgar would have hugged him.

After all, which teacher wouldn't have been proud of his disciple achieving a feat that was considered impossible for the masses?

Count Eustace’s face darkened, before he masked it with an expression of neutrality. Alaric could feel the turmoil bubbling inside the man’s chest, threatening to spill over. But he didn’t sense any malice in that emotion, only concern and fear.

Huh…what are you so afraid of, Father? He didn’t voice his thoughts out loud, sensing it wouldn’t be appropriate to bring up that issue right that instant when his father felt so vulnerable.

The thin strands of white peeking through the deep black hair covering his father’s temples made him slightly anxious. Subtle age lines cracked his cheek, announcing the decline of his vitality.

The count was no doubt a powerful cultivator. However, it seemed his position as the head of a noble household had sapped away at his strength much faster than possible in the mere seven years - from when he first met him.

“That calls for a celebration,” his father said after a long silence. “But before that, I have to witness your strength with my own eyes.” He turned to Edgar and nodded.

The head-butler slowly emerged from the shadows and slapped Alaric on the back. “What do you say we all visit the old forest, just like old times?”

Alaric smiled, nodding his assent. He hadn’t sparred with Edgar in over a year; there was simply nothing left for him to teach Alaric at that stage. His daily routine consisted of defeating monsters in the tutorial rift, reforging his body, and meditating on his chakras.

Now, Alaric was eager to demonstrate just how much he had grown.

***

Count Eustace POV

Eustace watched solemnly as Alaric and Edgar clashed inside the special sparring area in the Whispering Woods. Witnessing him going toe-to-toe with Edgar left him speechless.

Sure, Edgar had limited his powers to peak Tier 2 and withheld his aura, but that didn’t diminish the surprise even a little bit. Especially considering that his son had a perpetual smile on his face while fighting an opponent a whole tier above his weight class.

His intuition told him that Alaric wasn’t really putting his all into the sparring match either. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t really unleash the power of a reforged body without ascending to Tier 2.

When Edgar had informed him that Alaric was growing up to be a monster, he hadn’t exactly refuted that claim. After all, he had witnessed the boy’s potential with his own eyes a long time ago.

He knew that Alaric was a talented child, but now Eustace couldn’t claim his child was anything other than an exceptional prodigy.

How did you grow so strong, Alaric? He let out a half-hearted chuckle. Must be the royal blood flowing in your veins. But still…He shook his head, suppressing his doubt.

Realizing that his child had blossomed into such a talented cultivator swelled his chest with pride and joy. However, the claws of superstition injected his mind with anxiety and fear whenever he tried to relish those emotions.

He felt as if fate was waiting to play a cruel trick on him if he allowed himself to be happy. Already, he had to deal with an inquisitor while witches were biding their time, waiting to reveal themselves during a moment of weakness.

He had birthed a treasure, but now the burden of protecting his son haunted him every night. Alaric had grown too powerful, and that kind of power attracted unwanted attention.

And he hated the fact that in comparison to the true powerhouses that could turn their gazes on his child, his own strength was like a napkin - so easy to crumble. Even after all these years, the great chasm that prevented him from ascending to Tier 4 remained as vast as ever.

Perhaps if he weren’t the lord of a noble family, he could’ve dedicated more time to his training. Eustace chuckled, realizing the hollow excuse for what it was. No amount of training was enough to overcome the lack of insight.

But that wasn’t the cause for his sadness. In truth, all he wanted was for his children to grow into decent human beings and become capable enough to manage and protect the residents of his county who depended on their lord.

Witnessing Alaric’s overwhelming talent in his earlier days, Eustace had half a mind to announce him as his heir. And, if that wasn’t officially possible, he envisioned Alaric serving as a pillar of strength and guidance for his half-brothers.

Now, it was evident that Alaric’s path would diverge from his vision quite a bit. Alaric’s strength had far exceeded his expectations.

Alaric definitely had the potential to ascend to the higher floors of the Tower of Trials, bond with a powerful entity, and reach peak Tier 4, or perhaps even Tier 5. He couldn’t be confined to a small county - destiny wouldn’t allow it.

Not that he wanted to keep him bound to his estate forever, witnessing his potential blaze like a thousand suns. Eustace simply feared he would fail his duty to protect Alaric as his father until he became strong enough to reject the powers that be.

Eustace wanted to spend more time with Alaric, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t let the world know how much he loved him. Nothing was easier than turning love into weakness. And he was sure there were too many eyes on his son.

I have to send him to Evercrest Academy. Eustace had no doubt that with Alaric’s talent, he could easily crack the test of any prestigious academy. And once he secured admission, he could breathe a sigh of relief.

Life in a capital city academy would come with its fair share of troubles. However, it would be a much safer place than his residence, at least.

Besides, he had no doubt that his child could navigate the complexities of social interaction - hopefully. On second thought, he realized that Alaric’s strength could probably spark some trouble with arrogant noble brats from powerful houses.

I’ll have to warn him not to bite off more than he could chew. With that thought in mind, he called for a halt in the match. Rolling his shoulders, he slowly cracked his neck and strode into the sparring area.

“Now, I’ll be testing you, Alaric,” he said, witnessing the surprise evident in both of their eyes. As Edgar slowly marched out of the ring, Alaric took his position.

“I’m ready whenever you are, father,” said Alaric with a grin. There wasn’t a shred of fear in Alaric’s eyes, only an eager anticipation to demonstrate his strength.

“Really?” he replied, as tendrils of blue lightning crackled around his form. “Let’s see how well you fight when you don’t hold back.”