Anyways, he went on to create hundreds of clones of himself, splitting his power over and over until each individual copy was only as capable as a normal human.
The clones all went off to do their own things—and calling them "clones" wasn't entirely accurate. Each one was Ethan. They weren't copies or echoes; it was Ethan existing in more than one place at the same time, sharing the same mind and the same will.
That was why his strength dropped with every split—the power wasn't being duplicated, it was being divided.
Some of the clones entered a time chambers diffrent from the one the shinobi were in to cultivate, others sat down to comprehend martial arts, and others focused entirely on breaking down and understanding the deeper layers of his cultivation art.
Thetime chamber had been fused with the storage ring on the finger of the Ethan that remained sitting on the throne. With the bulk of his selves locked away in training, one final Ethan stood up and headed off to see someone.
"With so many clones cultivating at once, once I fuse back together with all of them, hopefully I can at least reach Level 30 or so Martial Disciple." He said softly to himself, walking down a dimly lit tunnel that sloped deeper underground.
The tunnel eventually opened up into a lab—a wide, cluttered space filled with half-finished projects, scattered blueprints, and humming equipment. In the middle of it all, a pink-haired girl sat hunched over a computer, her fingers flying across the keyboard without pause.
"What is it?" She snapped without looking up, not even bothering to check who had entered her workspace.
She liked to be alone when she worked, and she made that preference known to anyone who got within ten feet of the door. Sure, she normally had helpers and assistants, but they too were off in their own separate labs, running their own experiments and research.
"Rude as always," Ethan said, and the sound of his voice made her head snap up instantly, her eyes going wide with shock that he was actually standing there in person.
"Master!" She said with genuine joy, practically lighting up at the sight of him. Ethan's face twisted in annoyance at the title. She called him "master" because she was fully convinced that he was some kind of hidden expert who was pretending to be weak for reasons she hadn't figured out yet. No matter how many times Ethan tried to make it clear that he was, in fact, just a mortal with no cultivation, she refused to believe it.
"What are you working on?" Ethan asked softly, stepping further into the lab and glancing at the screens she had been staring at.
"I wanted to improve the attack power behind the energy blast. I want them to rival a nuclear bomb like the one you built… But how can I condense all of that power into one single blast?" She said softly, her brow furrowed as she pulled up a diagram on the screen to show him the problem she was stuck on.
Years ago, Ethan had built a nuclear bomb. It had been shockingly easier to construct in this world compared to modern-day Earth, thanks to the materials and tools that cultivation made available.
Of course, Ethan wasn't stupid enough to build something like that anywhere near civilization—he had done it on a lifeless, uninhabited planet, and the entire construction process had been handled remotely through a puppet he was controlling from a safe distance.
"You can do that later. I came to give you a cultivation art. It's called the Super Brain Cultivation Art," Ethan said with a smile, and she raised an eyebrow in confusion, not sure what to make of the name. This cultivation art was the fusion of five separate arts: the Rick Cultivation Art, the Tony Stark Cultivation Art, the Reed Richards Cultivation Art, the Azmuth Cultivation Art, and the Dr. Victor Von Doom Cultivation Art.
Yeah, "Super Brain Cultivation Art" had been named by Ethan himself. He was too lazy to think up anything better, so that was what stuck. But the name didn't matter—this cultivation art was perfect for Emily.
She was someone who lived to build things, to take apart problems and put them back together in ways no one else had thought of. She had virtually no talent for traditional cultivation, but she was able to absorb and apply everything Ethan taught her.
She was the one who had turned his Iron Man blueprints into functional armor, and she was the one behind every piece of equipment his forces currently used.
"Does this mean I passed your trial?" Emily asked with bright, hopeful eyes, and Ethan rolled his eyes at the question.
"Sure. Shatter your cultivation and start cultivating that art. It would focus mainly on your brain, forcing you to use your intellect instead of raw power and brute force. At the same level, you would be weaker than most cultivators in a head-on fight, but with time, even an immortal can fall into your hands." Ethan said with a smile, and the weight of those words settled over her like a promise.
"I understand," Emily said, bowing deeply, her voice carrying a reverence that bordered on worship at the opportunity she had just been handed.
"I will leave you to comprehend it. Call me if you have trouble. There is a door leading to a dimension in the meeting room. Go there to cultivate." Ethan said lazily, already turning to leave. From there, he went on to distribute similar cultivation arts to the other researchers and engineers working under him—each one tailored to their specific skillset and strengths. Once that was done, he headed back to the throne room, sat down, and waited.
By the way, these were the cultivation realms of this world, from lowest to highest: Martial Disciple, Martial Warrior, Martial Master, Martial Grand Master, Martial Saint, Martial Lord, Martial King, and Martial Emperor.
Above all of that were the beings known as Demi Gods—existences that stood at the very peak of what cultivation could achieve, so far above everything else that they were practically a different species.
Raven was considered a genius because she wasn't even forty years old yet and had already reached Martial Saint. That was a pace that most cultivators could only dream of matching in ten lifetimes.
But the shinobi serving under Ethan ranged from Martial Saints all the way up to half-step Martial Kings… so how was that possible? How did a mortal's personal army reach levels that rivaled a generational genius like Raven?
Simple. They used demonic arts to cultivate faster. Ethan wasn't a good person—not by any stretch of the imagination. He used to be a billionaire, and since when did a billionaire build their wealth by being kind?
Ethan had assassinated business rivals, stolen their wealth after they were gone, framed innocent people for crimes they didn't commit, and done whatever else needed to be done to stay on top. Morality was a luxury he had never been able to afford, and he had stopped pretending otherwise a long time ago.
So when someone like him needed military power, what did he do? Simple. He got his hands on a demonic cultivation technique and had his subordinates start using it to grow stronger at a speed that normal methods could never match.
He was able to cover it all up because the human race was at war. It had been for years. His shinobi would secretly slip onto the battlefields where humanity clashed with the demon race, and there, under the cover of chaos and carnage, they would absorb energy from both the fallen demons and the dead humans to fuel their growth.
Sure, it meant they carried a demonic aura that would have exposed them in an instant if anyone got close enough to sense it. But Ethan had already thought of that—the armor they wore sealed in their aura completely, hiding every trace of what they had done.
And with the armor equipped, their combat strength jumped well beyond their base cultivation, pushing them into territory that approached Martial King. So honestly, Ethan already had a powerful force at his disposal, and it was about to get significantly stronger once they recultivated to Level 12 Martial Disciple and set their sights on breaking into Martial King for real.
***
Elsewhere, Ellen could be seen in her personal chamber within the palace, seated before a large mirror that didn't reflect her face. Instead, the surface showed the image of a demon—a being that looked strikingly similar to a human, save for the cold, predatory intelligence behind its eyes.
"How are things going?" The demon asked, looking at Ellen through the mirror with narrowed eyes that missed nothing.
"Tomorrow is the perfect chance. I will draw out a Demi-God, the princess of the Immortals' Union, and more geniuses of the human race. It's the perfect opportunity for you to strike, dealing a massive blow to the human domain in one move." Ellen said with a cold smile, her voice carrying the steady calm of someone who had been planning this for a very long time.
"Good work. But keep Ethan alive. Use him to step into other lands. For a mortal, he is a valuable tool." The demon said calmly, and Ellen dipped her head in acknowledgment.
"Understood," Ellen said, her eyes narrowing slightly as the word left her lips. With that, the demon's image faded, and the mirror returned to normal, reflecting her own face back at her.
She was a beautiful woman—her dark hair tied up into a clean ponytail, her features sharp and refined. Her beauty didn't pale compared to any elf or demon; she was ranked as the number one beauty of the human domain for a reason.