Reaper of the Martial World

Book 8: Chapter 211: Devour (1)

{Persistence is a good thing to have for a martial warrior, but persistence along the wrong path leads to folly, young one. Is there a need for you to be so stubborn?}

{What was the point of your entry into Calming Lake? This isn’t a place you use to just build taller walls, you need to break down walls with weak foundations to build up one with a stronger foundation. What is the point of you being here if you’re not going to exit as a changed man?}

Three months. No, nearly four of constant pestering. The patience of the Crystal Dragon Ancestors seemed endless, they all had a calm disposition fitting for the Agios Clan.

Even continuous drops of water could eventually split a boulder.

It was safe to say that Dyon had last longer in Calming Lake than anyone else of his cultivation could, at least in recent memory. Even Little Lyla only endured for a few weeks at a time before taking a break. Yet, despite the near four months of perpetual hardship, Dyon had yet to descend to the fourth tier.

This wasn’t to say that Dyon didn’t benefit at all. In fact, it could be said that he was benefitting greatly. He was no closer to becoming the man he wanted to be, but his mental energy stores were skyrocketing.

At first, it was hardly noticeable. But, the more he endured the constant stream of attacks, and the more streams of consciousnesses that he devoured, the greater his focus became.

Mental Energy, despite its title, wasn’t something easily quantifiable. One could measure conventional energy by cultivation stage, or strength output, or even control, but mental energy couldn’t be defined so easily.

To make matters worse, mental energy couldn’t be cultivated just because you wanted to. It was something that could only gradually increase with time and persistence.

This was why Calming Lake was such a grand treasure. Albeit for a small time for most individuals, it provided a systematic method of increasing your mental energy. With persistent entries, one could raise their level without stumbling around blindly.

In the beginning, Dyon absorbed the streams of consciousnesses around him by normal method. He would overwhelm them with his thoughts, devouring their schools of thought.

But, Dyon felt that this was getting him nowhere. Sure, he was moving forward and sure, his capacity for focus was greatly increasing, but there was something missing… His mental state wasn’t improving at all. He was the same Dyon – inflexible and arrogant.

Though Dyon knew that a person changing wasn’t so simple, seeing it playing out before him was almost depressing.

He didn’t want to change. He didn’t want to become a new person. He wanted to be himself, the same Dyon he had always been, wasn’t that enough?

Didn’t he treat his subordinates fairly? Didn’t he love his wives equally? Wasn’t he putting his life on the line for the sake of the entire Plane and not just himself?

Where were his imperfections? Where were his flaws? Who were these Dragons to tell him that he needed to change? Who were they to encroach upon his beliefs with their own?

An inborn arrogance that could light a night sky pulsated around Dyon.

Since his birth, what he hated the most was being tested. No matter how good the intentions of the individual doing the testing was, a deeply irrational part of Dyon seethed with rage whenever such a thing happened.

It almost felt like the individual doing the testing was looking down on him, as though they had the right to pass judgement about whether or not he was good enough.

How dare they.

He, Dyon Sacharro, wasn’t a man that could be measured by just anyone. He couldn’t be broken down into systematic measurements and stuffed in a box of walled potential others perceived as his limits.

He was Dyon Sacharro. He didn’t have such limits, there didn’t exist a box that could contain him, nor did there exist an individual who could measure him. He didn’t lose. Not ever. historical

{But is that true, do you really never lose?}

{You seem to have the pride and arrogance of a man who stands above the Mortal Plane. No, of a man who stands even above the Immortal Plane, but what have you done to earn such arrogance?}

{You entered Focus Academy and the first thing you did was enter a battle you had no chance of winning, why? Because you had a little fame in you Mortal World? Because your mind worked a little bit better than others? Did you think that because you worked ‘hard’ it was enough to justify your high bridged nose?}

{Unfortunately for you, the martial world doesn’t reward hard work. There are individuals who could work just as hard as you yet never accomplish a thing.}

{Whether you want to believe it or not, the reality will always be the reality. The Heavens are inflexible. The duty of a cultivator is to work within its framework, to calmly accept the tides as they come. It might be commendable to hold your head high despite these tides, but that will never stop the tides from coming. Fighting against them is foolish, you must fight within them. Who do you think you are.}

The same things were being said, over and over again. Dyon wasn’t fooled by their different wordings. These third tier dragons were saying the same things the second tier dragons said, and those second tier dragons said the same thing those first tier dragons said.

An indescribable rage built up within Dyon’s chest.

These moronic bastards.

A dark pressure descended upon Calming Lake as a manifestation that seemed to hold up the skies appeared.

‘[DEVOUR].’