Wasting no ti, the group soared into the sky, heading back toward their Cultivation Manor. The flight took so ti, as they had to traverse several thousand kiloters, but before long, the familiar outline of their residence ca into view.
The mont they arrived, Mikael extended his divine sense—now partially under his control—and imdiately detected the faint fluctuations of spatial movent. A teleportation formation was in the process of anchoring itself near the entrance courtyard, no doubt the work of a sect elder acting on Great Elder Jianhai’s earlier instructions.
Without delay, they stepped into the manor. At first, they were about to separate and head to their individual quarters—cultivation being a deeply personal affair, usually most efficient when done in solitude. However, a change of plans quickly erged. Since they were all sharing a single manual, it made more sense to continue together.
Silently, they moved as one, expressions calm and focused, determined to push forward and bring their divine sense to the Entry threshold—to reach the point where it would finally be under their full control.
In this manner, Mikael and the girls found their way to the courtyard, eventually settling beneath a blooming sakura tree. Its delicate petals drifted through the air, adding a quiet beauty to the scene. Sitting cross-legged in lotus position, they began their cultivation, following the detailed instructions from the Divine Sense Refining thod manual.
Once more, Mikael focused inward, attempting to grasp the essence of his divine sense. Yet compared to where he had started, the difference was like night and day. If, at the beginning, he had been trying to scoop up grains of sand with bare hands, now it felt as though he wielded a bucket—making the grasping process far easier. However, control remained elusive. Still, Mikael was satisfied with the steady progress he had made, and without hesitation, he continued pressing forward.
***
[Cultivation thod: Divine Sense Refining thod has reached the Entry Level]
Mikael released a long, steady breath, the tension in his shoulders gradually easing as the system notification lingered before his eyes. A small, controlled smile tugged at his lips.
‘Finally… I’ve reached it.’
It hadn’t co easily. Days of silent ditation, relentless ntal discipline to sharpen his focus, and countless hours spent deciphering the nuances of the refining thod—all of it had built up to this exact mont. And now, with the threshold finally crossed, the dormant force that had long slumbered in the depths of his consciousness began to stir, like a limb he had just discovered he could move.
No longer inert. No longer hazy and imprecise.
Now his divine sense belonged to him.
Without wasting a second, Mikael closed his eyes and straightened his back beneath the sakura tree, his breathing calm and even. With a subtle flex of will, he extended his awareness outward. A silent surge pulsed from him—unseen, unheard, yet undeniably real.
At first, there was only emptiness. Then—presence.
Dim shapes flickered to life within his mind’s eye. He perceived the general outline of the courtyard, the gentle sway of the sakura branches overhead, and the vague forms of the girls seated near him in ditation. There were no colors, no precise details—only impressions: shifting density, subtle movent, fluctuating pressure. It resembled a living map stitched together by sensation alone. Like holding dozens of invisible threads tied to drifting leaves, and feeling where each one pulled.
A breeze passed. Mikael’s brows twitched slightly.
He didn’t see it—but he felt it. The subtle bend of the grass as the wind passed over it, the way the current curled around the base of a stone lantern at the garden’s edge. His range wasn’t vast, but within its periter, nothing escaped his perception.
Even with his eyes closed—or blindfolded—he would know where every individual stood, how they breathed, and whether their aura shifted from strain, emotion, or concentration.
A bird flew past the periter of the courtyard. As it entered his range, Mikael imdiately sensed the disturbance—the faint displacent of air caused by its beating wings. The creature remained oblivious to his presence, flying along peacefully, unbothered.
Yet Mikael knew it was there.
‘This… this really is a ga changer, just as Master said. In a real battle, it could make all the difference. With this, getting ambushed becos far less likely, and during a fight, the chance of being caught off guard is reduced imnsely. My divine sense gives a full three hundred and sixty-degree perception… a form of extrely limited omniscience within its range!’
Being the first among them to fully comprehend the intricacies of his Divine Sense, Mikael rose from beneath the sakura tree. After exchanging a few brief words with the girls and bidding them farewell, he calmly turned and began to walk away.
As he wandered through the peaceful scenery, Mikael continued experinting with his Divine Sense, pushing its limits and exploring its potential applications. It was during this phase of quiet testing that he made an unexpected discovery—his Divine Sense could serve as a form of weak ‘telekinesis’.
His eyes imdiately lit up with interest. Without hesitation, he shifted Sangrelia from its usual position at his waist to being strapped across his back. This adjustnt resolved an issue he had faced from ti to ti—naly, the longsword’s length occasionally causing it to knock against objects as he moved.
However, this change also brought a new problem. Drawing the sword quickly from his back would be far more inconvenient than from his waist. But Mikael wouldn’t have changed Sangrelia’s position if that had remained an issue. After all, now that he could manipulate her through his Divine Sense, he was able to draw her effortlessly using ‘telekinesis’, regaining both practicality and speed.
With Sangrelia now securely resting across his back and the potential drawback efficiently handled, Mikael turned his attention to the Cultivation Manor. He placed his spiritual imprint onto the formation protecting the area, thereby gaining the authority to control and activate it at will. In doing so, he ensured that the girls inside would have both privacy for their training and protection from any wandering visitors. Once that was done, he took off into the sky once more.
Having spent nearly an entire week in a deep ditative state without doing anything else, Mikael—who wasn’t accustod to this kind of focused, stationary training—felt the need to unwind.
After all, while he did enjoy training, spending an entire week seated in ditation wasn’t aligned with his usual habits. It was still sothing he had difficulty adjusting to.
With that in mind, he spent the following hours exploring the Core Court at his own pace. He wandered past its many notable landmarks—the Mission Hall, Disciplinary Hall, Alchemy Pavilion, Martial Courtyard, and several others. Each location had its own distinct character and appeal, and Mikael took his ti absorbing the subtle details of their design and intended function.
Yet, despite the elegance and purpose woven into each structure, what truly stood out to him—what left the most lasting impression—was the striking emptiness of the Core Court.
Unlike the Outer and Inner Courts, which spanned vast areas and teed with life, the Core Court was far smaller in scale, and its number of disciples was drastically lower. The result was a space that felt quiet, still, and almost deserted. It could have easily felt lifeless—if not for the breathtaking natural beauty surrounding it.
The entire sect was nestled within the Skycleave Mountain Range, a place of such raw, untouched splendor that the silence and emptiness only enhanced its allure. The quietude didn’t rob the area of vitality—it amplified its serenity, imbuing the sect with a sense of untouched purity and tranquil isolation.
In that sense, the lack of bustling activity didn’t diminish the Core Court’s appeal. On the contrary, it gave the place a calm, ditative charm that resonated with the very ideals of cultivation.
Over the course of his exploration, Mikael encountered no more than ten Core Disciples in total. That number remained shockingly low—especially when he recalled the swarms of Outer and Inner Disciples he had seen just a week prior while flying above the sect.
Eventually, as he flew back in the direction of his manor, sothing caught his eye—a series of elegant pavilions aligned in a graceful arc beside one another.
At first glance, there wasn’t anything too unusual about them. The Wandering Sword Sect was filled with beautiful structures, after all, and Mikael had already seen plenty during his earlier wanderings.
What truly drew his attention this ti, however, wasn’t the buildings themselves—it was the sight of people. In the otherwise empty Core Court, nearly a dozen Core Disciples were seated within the pavilions, casually drinking tea and engaging in light conversation.
The scene stood out, not just for its rarity, but for the opportunity it presented.
Intrigued, Mikael decided to approach. He wanted to observe the Core Disciples more closely—to gauge their deanor toward an unfamiliar face. He was well aware that his earlier interactions with sect mbers had been shaped by the fact that the elders already knew of his talent. But these disciples had no idea who he was.
Their attitude toward a stranger would serve as a more honest indicator of the Wandering Sword Sect’s true internal culture—sothing that could help him form a clearer picture of where he stood and how to move forward.
With that in mind, he landed a few ters from the pavilion where the disciples were idly passing the ti.
As he stepped into the open-air structure, the first to notice him was a long-haired woman with a spear strapped to her back and striking crimson eyes. She acknowledged him with a brief nod—no words, just a silent gesture of greeting—but there was a flicker of confusion in her gaze, likely due to not recognizing him.
The next to react was a tall man seated at the center. He turned toward Mikael with an amused smile.
“Welco, brother…” he said, pausing slightly, clearly unsure of Mikael’s identity but unfazed by it. “...to the Hebdomary eting of the Core Disciples Who Have Nothing Better to Do With Their Lives!”
A wave of light chuckles rippled through the group as another disciple interjected, “Brother Li… you really didn’t need to say the last part.”
Brother Li shrugged with a grin. “What? It’s our unofficial title. Gotta welco the newcor properly, right?”
Another round of laughter followed, filling the pavilion with an easy, relaxed energy as Mikael took a seat at the table.
Then, a drowsy-looking Core Disciple with heavy dark circles under his eyes and robes in slight disarray raised his head with clear effort. His voice was slow, almost painful, as if each word took real effort.
“First… layer… Spiritual… Foundation… Realm?”
He didn’t wait for a reply. The mont the words left his mouth, he lowered his head back onto the table, seemingly intent on dozing off again.
But his words rippled through the gathered Core Disciples like a shockwave, stirring visible surprise among them.
“He’s right… he’s only at the 1st layer of the Spiritual Foundation Realm?”
“How is that even possible? Isn’t reaching the 6th layer of the Spiritual Foundation Realm the bare minimum to qualify for Core Disciple status? And even then, the promotion trial isn’t supposed to happen for another eight months, if I rember correctly!”
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