Vergil stared at the blank sheet resting on the easel and pondered what he should draw.
This would be his final painting within the cavern.
Earlier that morning, Sierra had informed him that they would leave for Mercury City tomorrow.
The competition would begin in a week.
To arrive before the event, they needed to depart immediately.
His Painting mastery had reached 99.9% several days ago.
Yet no matter how many times he painted afterwards, it refused to advance any further.
The situation frustrated him.
One disadvantage of training a Skill without a teacher was the lack of guidance whenever a bottleneck appeared.
Vergil tapped the brush lightly against his palm while reviewing everything he had painted over the past year.
Landscapes.
Mountains.
Forests.
Magic beasts.
Plants.
Buildings.
Even microscopic details.
He had once spent three days drawing every strand of fur on a dead beast to test whether greater realism would trigger a breakthrough.
It had not.
The problem was not skill.
The problem was understanding.
He felt as though he were missing something fundamental.
Then a realisation struck him.
His eyes widened slightly.
“I’ve never painted a person.”
More specifically—
“I’ve never painted myself.”
His thoughts immediately shifted toward his long-term goal.
A clone.
He still had no guarantee that advancing the Origami Seed would grant him a clone ability.
Abilities were partially dependent on luck.
Unless he discovered a cultivation technique specifically designed around clones, there was no certainty.
Because of that uncertainty, he had already prepared a backup plan.
If he could not obtain a true clone ability, then he would create one himself.
A human-shaped paper puppet.
A perfect self-portrait drawn upon it.
Combined together, Painting and Origami could potentially imitate a clone.
At higher levels, the imitation might become nearly indistinguishable from the real thing.
The more Vergil considered the possibility, the more convinced he became.
Without wasting another second, he grabbed the easel and rushed toward the underground town.
The streets were nearly empty.
Most of the trainees had already been sold or transferred.
Only a handful remained.
Gregory.
Cedric.
Sean.
Ricky.
And himself.
The others were gone.
Aaron, Basil, and Damien had already been purchased by various organisations and taken away.
Vergil entered the general store and spent a small amount of contribution points on a polished mirror.
Then he carried both the mirror and easel to the rooftop of a nearby building.
The cool underground breeze brushed against his face.
He positioned the mirror before him.
Adjusted the easel.
Mixed his paints.
Then he began.
Every brush stroke carried absolute focus.
The shape of his face.
The structure of his jaw.
The angle of his eyes.
The subtle imperfections of his skin.
Nothing escaped his attention.
Hours passed.
The outside world gradually faded away.
Vergil became completely immersed in the act of creation.
Inside his Soul Space, something began changing.
The dormant energy surrounding his Painting mastery stirred.
Then it gathered.
Slowly.
Steadily.
Like countless streams converging toward a single destination.
Meanwhile, the portrait continued taking shape.
The painting became increasingly lifelike.
The eyes seemed alive.
The skin appeared real.
The image looked less like a painting and more like a person trapped within the canvas.
The moment the final brush stroke landed—
Boom.
A silent explosion echoed through his Soul Space.
A new seed formed.
Painting Seed.
The newly born Skill Seed settled beside the others.
At the same time, a torrent of information flooded directly into his mind.
Vergil closed his eyes.
Countless insights regarding colour, structure, form, and artistic creation flowed through his consciousness.
Several minutes later, he slowly opened his eyes.
Then he lifted his brush.
Without paper.
Without canvas.
He painted directly into the air.
Black ink remained suspended before him.
Stroke after stroke appeared in empty space.
Soon, the outline of a small bird emerged.
Wings.
Feathers.
Eyes.
Beak.
The final line connected.
The painted bird suddenly flapped its wings.
Then it flew.
Vergil’s eyes widened.
The tiny creature circled above the rooftop.
At the same time, he felt a faint mental connection linking them together.
He could control it.
Not perfectly.
Not intelligently.
The bird could only follow simple commands.
Anything complicated exceeded its understanding.
Still, it was alive.
A true creation.
“Fly higher.”
The bird obeyed.
It climbed through the cavern air.
One minute later, the connection suddenly weakened.
The painted creature froze.
Its body dissolved back into ordinary ink.
Black droplets splattered harmlessly onto the stone streets below.
Vergil stared at the falling ink for several seconds.
Then a slow smile spread across his face.
This ability alone was worth all his effort.
And more importantly—
It proved that his idea was possible.
If a painted bird could become real, then one day a painted human could as well.
The next morning arrived quickly.
Vergil stood in the central training field with the remaining participants.
Gregory.
Cedric.
Sean.
Ricky.
And himself.
Five survivors.
Five competitors.
Five products awaiting sale.
Several large carriages waited near the gate.
Beyond those gates lay Mercury City.
And beyond Mercury City lay the greatest opportunity Vergil had encountered since arriving in this world.
Freedom.
The word lingered in Vergil’s mind.
Then Sierra walked onto the training field with an armed guard following closely behind her.
The guard carried a large metal tray.
Sierra stopped before the five youths.
“I imagine all of you are excited by the possibility of gaining freedom.”
None of them responded.
Gregory remained expressionless.
Cedric kept his arms crossed.
Sean and Ricky stood stiffly.
Vergil simply watched her quietly.
Sierra smiled faintly.
“But before any of you gain your freedom, we must first recover our investment.”
She glanced toward the guard.
Only then did Vergil notice the objects resting on the tray.
Several wide silver rings.
At first glance, they resembled oversized bracelets.
His eyes narrowed.
Some kind of monitoring device?
Sierra picked up one of the silver rings and walked toward Ricky, who stood at the end of the line.
The ring suddenly unfolded in her hands.
Vergil immediately realised its purpose.
It wasn’t a bracelet.
It was a collar.
A moment later, Sierra placed it around Ricky’s neck.
Click.
The collar locked shut.
Runes immediately lit up across its metallic surface.
A slave collar.
The realisation settled heavily in Vergil’s chest.
Sierra continued down the line.
Sean.
Cedric.
Gregory.
One after another, collars were secured around their necks.
Finally, she stopped before Vergil.
Without a word, she fastened the final collar around his throat.
Click.
Cold metal pressed against his skin.
The runes activated.
A faint current passed through the collar before fading away.
Sierra returned to the front of the group.
“Now,” she said calmly, “if any of you attempt to escape, this will happen.”
The runes flashed.
Instantly, pain exploded through Vergil’s neck.
The sensation felt as though molten needles had been driven directly into his nerves.
Beside him, Gregory, Sean, Cedric, and Ricky all groaned in pain.
The punishment lasted only a second.
Then it vanished.
Sierra watched their reactions with satisfaction.
“That was merely a demonstration.”
“If you genuinely attempt to escape, the pain will be a hundred times worse.”
Nobody doubted her.
The collars alone were enough proof.
Sierra turned around.
“Follow me.”
The five youths obeyed.
Soon they boarded a large carriage waiting near the edge of the compound.
The interior differed greatly from ordinary carriages.
There were no windows.
Only small ventilation holes near the ceiling.
A glowing crystal embedded overhead illuminated the compartment with soft white light.
Once everyone entered, Sierra stopped at the doorway.
“The journey will take three days.”
She looked at each of them in turn.
“You will remain inside this carriage for the entire trip.”
“Do not leave without permission.”
Then she closed the heavy door.
A few moments later, the carriage began moving.
The silence lasted several minutes before Sean finally spoke.
“What do you think the academies will look for?”
Nobody answered immediately.
Gregory eventually opened one eye.
“The higher your ranking, the better your chances.”
Ricky nodded.
“Then you and Vergil should have the highest chance among us.”
Cedric snorted dismissively.
Then he closed his eyes and leaned against the wall.
Vergil thought for a moment before speaking.
“There won’t be only one academy.”
The others looked toward him.
“Different academies value different talents.”
“If your abilities fit their path, they may not care as much about your ranking.”
Sean slowly nodded.
That made sense.
For a while, the conversation continued.
They discussed academies.
Cultivation paths.
The competition.
Their hopes for the future.
Eventually, however, the discussion faded.
One by one, everyone fell silent.
Each of them sat alone with their thoughts.
The future.
Freedom.
Opportunity.
Slavery.
The coming competition.
No one knew what awaited them in Mercury City.
The journey passed slowly.
Several times each day, guards opened the carriage door.
The captives were allowed outside briefly to eat and take care of basic necessities.
Every time Vergil stepped outside, he noticed something different.
The surrounding caverns changed constantly.
Some contained forests of glowing mushrooms.
Others contained underground lakes.
One cavern held an entire settlement built around a massive crystal formation.
The Underground Realm was far larger than he had ever imagined.
Three days later, the carriage finally came to a halt.
The door opened.
A guard stood outside.
“Everyone out.”
The five immediately exited the carriage.
Vergil stepped onto solid ground and looked around.
They were still inside a cavern.
But this cavern dwarfed every previous one he had seen.
Countless glowing crystals illuminated the massive underground space.
Wide stone roads stretched into the distance.
Thousands upon thousands of people filled the streets.
Towering buildings rose toward the cavern ceiling.
Carriages moved continuously through the city.
Cultivators carrying strange weapons walked openly among the crowds.
The sheer scale made Rock Hill Town resemble a tiny village.
Sean stared in disbelief.
Ricky’s mouth hung open.
Even Gregory’s calm expression cracked slightly.
Vergil slowly looked toward the distant centre of the city.
There, a colossal silver tower pierced upward through the cavern like a divine pillar.
Its shining surface reflected the crystal light across the entire city.
Mercury City.
At last, they had arrived.