Caleb quickly realized that "adding points" wasn't as simple as a menu click. The experience points didn't just vanish into a state bar; instead, they ignited his spirit power, forcing it to roar through his body along a complex, ancient-feeling path.
The energy didn't just move; it galloped. It was a violent, magnificent expansion of his power that he could feel in every fiber of his being. I see, Caleb thought, a flash of realization cutting through the heat of the breakthrough. This isn't a game world—it's reality. The system isn't "giving" me power; it's acting as a high-speed autopilot for cultivation.
He felt as though an invisible master had taken control of his spirit power, steering it through hidden meridians he hadn't even known existed.
Wait... An audacious idea took hold. If the system is guiding this energy along a specific route, isn't that path effectively a God-tier meditation manual? Better than anything some dusty academy library could offer.
Caleb gritted his teeth, refocusing his willpower. He stopped being a passenger and became a student. He tracked every twist and turn of the energy, memorizing the rhythm of the flow and the way his veins expanded to accommodate the surge.
Time lost all meaning. Eventually, the system's "autopilot" flickered and died, leaving the spirit power to circulate under its own momentum. The ease vanished instantly. Now, every inch of progress required Caleb's own mental strength and physical stamina.
It was grueling. It felt like dragging a heavy iron chain through thick mud. His spirit and body were screaming in exhaustion, yet the tiny, cooling springs of power being born from the cycle kept him tethered to consciousness.
One cycle... two... The growth was immense. Three cycles... four... Caleb was at his absolute limit.
By the fifth cycle, he was forced to stop. A sensation like steel needles piercing his skull flared behind his eyes, and a deep, gnawing void opened in his stomach. He gasped, his eyes snapping open as he tumbled back onto his thin mattress.
Panting, he called up the panel:
[Host: Caleb] [Spirit: Blue Silver Grass Lv2 (In Evolution)] [Spirit Power: Rank 5 (9%) +] [Experience: 0]
Experience gone, but his rank had jumped twice in a single night. Breakthroughs like this were unheard of without rare herbs or divine intervention. Just one fight with Leo gave me enough juice for two levels, Caleb thought, his lips curling into a tired smile. If I keep grinding, I'll hit Rank 10 before the first month is up.
The sun had long since set, casting the dorm in deep shadows. A figure approached his bed—Julian.
"Caleb," Julian said, his voice low and serious. "I need a favor. My Master is taking me to obtain my first spirit ring tomorrow. I'll be away from the academy for a while."
He didn't wait for a response before continuing, "I've already spoken to Lyra. I need you two to handle the garden cleaning while I'm gone. When I return, I'll take over all the remaining shifts for the year. You'll still get your full pay. Are you willing?"
Caleb sat up, the phantom needles still pricking his brain. "You arrived today and you're already going for a ring? That's some terrifying talent, Julian."
Julian's expression softened slightly, though his voice remained guarded. "Your talent isn't bad either. You'll hit Rank 10 soon enough."
"I hope so," Caleb replied, his tone unreadable.
After Julian left, Caleb collapsed back onto his bed. His mind was screaming for sleep, but his stomach was screaming for fuel. He fumbled through his bag, shoveling dry bread and a few remaining fruits into his mouth before his eyes finally rolled back, and he plummeted into a dreamless, heavy sleep.
The next morning, Caleb was shaken awake by Leo. Even after a full night's rest, he felt like he'd been put through a grain thresher. That meditation manual has some serious recoil, he thought, splashing cold water on his face to dull the headache.
He donned his new school uniform—the fabric was high-quality, smoother than anything he'd ever touched—and followed the group to the canteen. After a hurried breakfast, the work-study students filed into the auditorium for the opening ceremony.
It was the usual fanfare: the principal's speech on the history of Spirit Masters, the dean's summary of the previous year's growth, and the promises of glory for those who could secure a spot in an Intermediate Soul Master Academy.
Caleb tuned most of it out, his fingers tracing the faint pulse of his Rank 5 spirit power. To the teachers on stage, he was just another face in the crowd. But beneath his toasted skin, the "weed" was already preparing for its next evolution.