"To cultivate is to be miserable," he said to me.
I didn’t think I’d hear those words coming from the man responsible for uniting the nine realms. Was it like that famous adage: Money doesn’t buy happiness.
Easy to say when you’re rich.
"So I ask again. Are you sure?" Athan hid his face behind his fan. Those sharp eyes were indecipherable.
The eerie silence in the Palatine of Wisdom didn’t help my decision. "Yes," I eventually muttered.
Athan chuckled like a viper’s hiss.
"Your unique... condition deprived you of a dantian. Where your center of cultivation should be, a void is in its place. Truly one-of-a-kind."
His words felt like a song. A melody from nature itself.
"Incurable, it should be. A challenge, only I see. Cultivators should be cultivators not just in body, but in mind and soul as well. Mayhaps you start on that aspect first," Athan said.
By the time I realized what he was saying, he was gone. His last words echoed off of the walls like a ghostly siren.
"Spend an entire millennium in these books. Then, we can talk."
That was when I was imprisoned in the Immortal Library of Ræzoň for a thousand years.
...
...
...
Eren’s dantian called him back to consciousness.
It felt like a second heart. Beating, pulsating, circulating a strange new sense of power in his body.
Just below his navel, an organ shriveled from a decade of immobility from a coma was now completely revitalized.
His Dantian was healthy. It was functional.
It wasn’t like his second life. Back then, his crippling disease not only destroyed his dantian, but also obliterated any chance of it ever growing back. No amount of miracles and surgeries could make him sustain a Dantian, especially when his own body destroyed it like a virus each time.
But not anymore.
"You’re awake." Dr. Reid’s voice welcomed him as he opened his eyes to the blaring lights of the hospital room.
Was it a hospital room? He couldn’t tell at first. A fireplace on the left, a flat-screen television surrounded with bookshelves and cabinets and sofas and chairs on the right. All ornate, all premium-looking. Many would mistake this as the living room of a low-ceiling mansion.
It didn’t take him long to realize where he was.
The VIP ward of the hospital. One reserved only for Awakeners.
"Hopefully, you’re not feeling too tired," Dr. Reid said, looking down at Eren from his side. She wasn’t alone.
Behind her, he saw three men wearing black and white suits complete with dark sunglasses standing at attention near the door. The patch of the United Governments was emblazoned on their chests.
"These guys have a few questions for you about the erratic Awakener."
Upon Dr. Reid’s introduction, one of the men approached Eren and began interrogating him.
The questions were easy and brief. It focused entirely on what he saw before, during, and after the psychiatric patient’s outburst. He answered it plainly and without having to omit anything.
A question centered on his coincidental appearance in the Psychiatric Ward did come up, but he answered with simple reasoning.
"I wanted to explore the hospital."
It was a reason corroborated by his everyday activity. Being stuck inside the hospital day in and out could get boring for a teen like him. So, exploration became his only output.
The interrogation continued, and Eren realized that the questions were just a formality. They already knew the answers, they just had to hear it from him.
After two minutes, the questions ended. They were satisfied with his answers. Truly, they were more concerned about the psychiatric patient than anything else.
The UG agent thanked him for his time and cooperation before retreating back to the other men in black. They then addressed Dr. Reid and declared that their time here in the hospital had concluded.
Before they left through the door, one of them turned back. "Eren Grayson. We hope to see a man of your talents very soon."
The door closed, leaving Eren and Dr. Reid alone in the room.
"Feeling better?" Dr. Reid turned to him. "You should be. I used my Psionic magic to heal your injuries."
No wonder Eren felt better. Several of his ribs should have been broken, and his stomach should have been inflicted with numerous internal injuries. But now, he was healthy enough to sit up and answer questions without coughing blood.
"Thank you," he muttered. "What happened—"
"Usually, I wouldn’t have been able to perform such intensive healing to you," she said, interrupting him. "My healing is usually toxic to anyone who can’t store Psions in their body. Namely, mortals and..."
Dr. Reid gave a pointed stare at his stomach. "...and coma patients. You know why?"
She must have noticed his recovered Dantian. "Why?"
"My Psionic Magic uses the inner Psions of an individual to speed recovery. That can’t happen if they don’t have Psions stored in their bodies.
But you... you do. Your Dantian’s already cured."
That was the very reason why she’d been so strict with him, why she couldn’t let him go out of the hospital or participate in the dangerous License Exams.
His Dantian wasn’t healed. He might have been able to walk, but that didn’t mean he could use Psions.
And without Psions, he’d be dead weight in the License Exams. She thought it would take him months, if not years to recover before his Dantian fully healed.
Eren didn’t speak. She wasn’t looking for an answer. She was expressing her shock.
A minute passed, and the door opened. Geister came in and gave Eren a salute. "Heya, kiddo."
Then, he turned to Dr. Reid. "Did ’ya tell him?"
She pursed her lips.
"Elena... you have to. How are you going to explain to the United Governments that you didn’t let a talented prospect try out for the License Exam?
A mortal bleeding an Awakener. If not for those agents, this would have been frontline news."
Geister winked at Eren as he continued his ’compliment’. "Kids these days are not as vulnerable as you think they are. I barely taught him the Primal Strike and he’d already reached the first stage of mastery. If he’s not a genius, I don’t know who is."