The Elven Cultivator

In the bathroom of his apartment.

Anton stood before the mirror, looking at the unfamiliar face reflected back at him.

The person in the mirror had unremarkable features, the kind of ordinary face that would disappear into a crowd, never to be found again.

This face didn’t belong to an Elf, a Cultivator, or anyone on the Dawn Continent.

It belonged only to an ordinary person.

An ordinary person living in a world called ”reality.”

Anton stared at his reflection, his gaze calm and profound.

The obsessions and fears that had been repeatedly questioned, examined, and resolved in countless Heart Demon Illusion Realms had now settled into the most solid of foundations.

He was no longer filled with doubt or confusion.

He was Anton.

A Transmigrator, an Elf, a Cultivator.

A member of the Silver Moon Clan, Romance’s childhood friend, Eleanor’s guide, and a teacher to those children.

Everything he owned, everything he had experienced, everything he had chosen... all of it had formed the person he was now.

”I am who I am,”

Anton declared.

The moment he finished speaking, the mirror shattered violently.

And along with it, everything else around him began to shatter as well.

The world started to collapse, revealing a void of darkness behind it.

The basketball court downstairs, the trees lining the street, the distant residential buildings... everything dissolved into countless tiny motes of light that scattered into the void.

The motes of light grew more distant and sparse, eventually vanishing completely into the endless darkness.

The world returned to nothingness.

Back in the quiet room, Anton slowly opened his eyes.

Deep within his amber eyes, a five-colored radiance flowed like an aurora. It was so profound it seemed capable of drawing in a person’s soul, but it quickly returned to calm.

The true Heart Demon Tribulation was far more perilous than the rehearsals simulated by the Heart Demon Guide.

If the latter was practice in the shallows, the former was a life-or-death struggle against the giant waves of the deep sea.

The slightest misstep would mean being trapped in the Illusion Realm forever, a fate from which not even a heaven-defying Cultivation Level could save you.

However, it was precisely the repeated tempering from those twenty-three simulated Heart Demon Tribulations that had, without him realizing, polished his Dao heart to a state of transparent perfection.

The obsessions, fears, and self-doubts that once lurked in the depths of his soul had already been repeatedly questioned, examined, and resolved during those rehearsals.

And so, when the real Heart Demon Tribulation arrived, this accumulation of experience became his most solid foundation.

This time, he had ”returned” to that world called ”reality.”

A world without Spiritual Qi and Magic, without Giant Dragons and Elves.

A world of only nine-to-fives, of mundane necessities, of one day bleeding into the next.

He lived in a small apartment. Every morning, he was jolted awake by an alarm clock, squeezed onto the subway to get to work, and wasted the day away staring at a computer screen in a cubicle.

In the evening, he would drag his exhausted body back home, shower, eat, scroll through his phone, and go to sleep.

On weekends, he would occasionally meet up with friends for a meal, chat about trivial matters, and then wait in a state of Sunday-night anxiety for the next workday to arrive.

It was peaceful and stable, yet tinged with a subtle, indescribable sense of dissonance.

It was as if something important had been forgotten.

He began to doubt, to think, to search for a crack in that seemingly indestructible layer of reality.

The keen perception of ”real” versus ”illusory” that he had honed in the simulated Heart Demon Tribulations played a crucial role at this moment.

He no longer passively accepted this world’s ”reality” as he had in his first Heart Demon Illusion Realm; instead, he actively sought out its flaws.

He began to contemplate the nature of the self.

And the moment he finally saw through the fog and understood his true self, the Heart Demon Illusion Realm shattered.

The Heart Demon Tribulation was over. Anton’s mind was now a vast expanse of clarity and purity.

He sank into his consciousness, and scenes from his life as a Cultivator flashed before his eyes. Then, they all faded away, leaving only a void.

He faintly sensed an enormous, invisible net in the world around him, enveloping him and preventing him from taking the next step.

These were the shackles of the world itself.

The limitations placed upon mortals by the Celestial Dao.

Anton smiled to himself, then suddenly rallied his will and charged straight at that giant net.

BOOM!

There was no sound, no light, only a tremor that erupted from the depths of his soul.

When Anton came back to his senses, he had already broken through the shackles.

A bright flame ignited in his heart.

This was the Dao Fire, the fire of the heart. It was a radiant light born from the very source of life, ignited at the moment when essence, energy, and spirit united, and when Heaven, Earth, and Man converged.

Endless light fell upon the Pill Seed in his Qi Sea, submerging it completely.

Anton felt a violent tremor in his mind, as if something had exploded in the depths of his consciousness.

A misty energy began to steam and boil from his Dantian. In an instant, it coursed through the meridians and acupoints of his entire body—at times a raging torrent, at others a gentle spring rain.

When he gathered his aura and looked inward at his Qi Sea again, he saw that a Pill Fruit, incomparably clear and pure like flawless crystal, had already settled within it.

The Golden Core was formed!

Anton couldn’t help but let out a hearty, triumphant laugh.

He felt utterly refreshed from head to toe, his mind more at ease than ever before.

He had passed through the gates of life and death today, and from now on, his being was one with the Dao itself.

From this day forward, he had transcended the mortal world and grasped the authority of the Dao.

Amid his laughter, his Divine Sense spread out.

In an instant, the world became clearer than ever before.

Although nothing around him had changed, in Anton’s perception, it was completely different.

In the eyes of a Foundation Establishment Cultivator, the world is one of flowers, grass, trees, mountains, and rivers—a physical existence that can be seen and touched.

A rock is just a rock, flowing water is just flowing water, and the wind is just the wind.

They have their own shapes, textures, and temperatures; they can be touched, seen, and felt, but that is all.

In the eyes of a Golden Core Cultivator, however, the world is one of flowing Spiritual Qi and the interplay of the Five Elements.

A rock is no longer just a rock.

He can see the earthy-yellow Spiritual Qi slowly settling within it.

Flowing water is no longer just flowing water.

A misty, deep-blue Water Attribute Spiritual Qi hovers above its surface, rising and falling with the ripples.

And the wind is no longer just the wind.

Pale cyan cyclones drift through the air, and every wisp of the current carries the trajectory of wind-attribute Spiritual Qi.

He began to perceive the existence of the Heaven and Earth Law.

These Laws were like countless transparent threads, crisscrossing to weave a giant net that covered the sky and the earth.

They have no form, no color, yet they truly exist.

They determine that water flows downward and fire burns upward; they dictate the birth and death of life and govern the operating principles of all things.

A Foundation Establishment Cultivator cannot perceive their existence and can only passively be affected by them.

A Golden Core Cultivator, on the other hand, can vaguely sense the network and direction of these threads.

It is still a blurry perception, like looking at something through frosted glass—only the general outline is visible, with no discernible details. But the direction has been set, the path has been paved, and the road ahead is wide open.

Foundation Establishment cultivates Technique, while Golden Core cultivates the Dao.

This is the fundamental difference.

Second is lifespan.

A Foundation Establishment Cultivator’s lifespan increases greatly, allowing them to live for several hundred years.

But as for a Golden Core Cultivator, as long as they don’t meet an untimely end, living for two or three thousand years is commonplace.

Anton himself is a long-lived species with a naturally high lifespan. With an increase of another two or three thousand years, his lifespan was now three to four times that of an ordinary Elf.

This meant he had even more time to pursue the Great Dao.

Next is the transformation of True Essence into Magical Power.

After a Cultivator successfully solidifies their pill, the Qi and Essence throughout their body condense into one, and the Golden Core becomes their core of power.

Magical Power is the immense force generated when the Golden Core commands the mysterious and profound spiritual mechanisms of the world.

Before this, a Cultivator’s body existed in a state where ”Qi” and ”Essence” were separate.

Spiritual Qi (True Essence) was stored in the Qi Sea, while essence-qi flowed through the flesh and blood.

After the pill is formed, Qi and Essence merge, and one’s power becomes a unified whole.

It is no longer a quantifiable ”Spiritual Qi” or ”True Essence,” but a more fundamental power originating from the source of the Golden Core itself.

The purity and density of Magical Power are far beyond what True Essence can compare to.

When the same Technique is activated with Magical Power, its might is amplified by at least four or five times.

More critical is endurance.

A Foundation Establishment’s True Essence is like water in a jar; every bit used is a bit lost.

A Golden Core’s Magical Power is like water from a spring. Though not infinite, the Golden Core automatically rotates, constantly drawing in energy from the world to replenish itself. The difference in combat endurance is like heaven and earth.

As long as it’s not a prolonged, high-intensity battle of attrition, a Golden Core Cultivator almost never has to worry about their Magical Power running out.

In short, Magical Power is the signature ability of the Golden Core realm.

Only by condensing Magical Power can one use Divine Techniques, and only then has one truly taken the key step through the gate of the immortal Dao.

Beyond that, his Divine Sense also underwent a qualitative leap.

The range of a Golden Core’s Divine Sense is more than ten times that of the Foundation Establishment stage.

At this moment, everything within a radius of more than two hundred kilometers was within Anton’s perception.

And the range of one’s Divine Sense is also the attack range of one’s flying sword.

This meant the maximum distance his sword light could reach had increased dramatically, far surpassing what it was before.

Even from hundreds of kilometers away, as long as his Divine Sense could lock onto a target, his sword light could arrive in an instant.

More importantly, the Divine Sense of a Golden Core Cultivator is a weapon in itself.

With a slight shift in his thoughts, Anton spread an invisible spiritual pressure outward from his position.

It was a form of suppression from a higher-level Divine Soul.

If a Low Tier Cultivator were caught within it, in a mild case they would lose their composure and their combat power would be greatly reduced. In a severe case, their Divine Soul would be shaken, and they would faint on the spot.

He could also condense his Divine Sense into a needle or a cone to directly pierce an enemy’s Divine Soul.

This form of attack, formless and intangible, was impossible to defend against. It was another trump card that allowed Golden Core Cultivators to crush those of a lower tier.

”Not bad.”

Anton nodded in satisfaction. With a thought, a dark-gold sword light leaped from his chest and hovered before him.

The sword light pulsed and expanded, splitting into layer after layer until, in the blink of an eye, it had become sixteen beams.

Then, with another flicker, it became thirty-two.

And with one more, sixty-four.

Anton continued to channel his power, and the sword light split once more.

This time, the splitting process was noticeably slower. The edges of the sword beams trembled slightly, showing faint signs of dissipating.

After a good while, the sword light finally succeeded in splitting, reaching a total of one hundred and twenty-eight beams.

But it was clear they were still trembling constantly, unable to stabilize their form.

Anton wasn’t worried.

He had just broken through and wasn’t yet proficient in his use of Magical Power.

Once he adapted, he would quickly master the Light Splitting and Reunification technique to create one hundred and twenty-eight beams.

He recalled the sword light, and the Sword Pill submerged back into his chest.

Feeling the abundant Magical Power in his Dantian, a satisfied smile appeared on his face.

Golden Core and Foundation Establishment were two completely different levels, a chasm as wide as the heavens.

To a Golden Core Cultivator, a Foundation Establishment Cultivator was not much more than an ant.

This was evident from the changes in Anton himself.

Just from Magical Power and the Flying Sword Skill alone, his strength had already skyrocketed several times over.

Once he mastered his Divine Techniques, his strength would take another quantum leap.