The Elven Cultivator

The essence of cultivating the Five Elements Flame Transformation Skill lay in using one's body as a cauldron to repeatedly grind, collide, and merge the Five Elements Spiritual Qi until the first wisp of a fire seed was born.

Anton sat cross-legged in quiet meditation. Within his Dantian, eighteen wisps of primordial Spiritual Qi swirled like roaming dragons, transforming into the Qi of the Five Elements and cycling without end.

He drove his Wood Attribute Spiritual Qi to act as kindling, his Fire Attribute Spiritual Qi as the catalyst, his Earth Attribute Spiritual Qi as the furnace, his Metal Attribute Spiritual Qi as the grindstone, and his Water Attribute Spiritual Qi for quenching. As the five types of Qi cycled, they soon formed a miniature Five Elements cycle within his Dantian.

At first, the Five Elements cycle operated smoothly.

But as soon as Anton mobilized the Five Elements Spiritual Qi to merge them, their mutually destructive nature was instantly unleashed. Water fought fire and metal clashed with wood, causing his Dantian to roil as if boiling.

Anton gritted his teeth, forcefully suppressing the chaos with his willpower and struggling to maintain the balance of the Five Elements. Yet he could only hold on for three or four breaths before the cycle collapsed with a thunderous crash.

The five types of Spiritual Qi erupted instantly, running rampant through his Dantian like unbridled wild horses and throwing everything into chaos.

Enduring the intense pain, Anton took a great deal of effort to rein in the Spiritual Qi and revert it back to its primordial state.

"Whew... A High Tier fire seed is certainly not easy to condense."

He let out a long sigh and wiped the fine beads of sweat from his forehead.

That being said, Anton had no intention of giving up. After a short rest, he began his second attempt.

For the next three-plus months, he focused on cultivating the Five Elements Flame Transformation Skill.

Anton had been mentally prepared for the Cultivation Technique's extreme difficulty. He wasn't anxious, choosing instead to advance steadily and gradually increase the length of time he could sustain the cycle with each attempt.

During this period, he also cultivated another Technique: the renowned introductory Thunder Skill, 'Palm Thunder'.

However, this Technique was also quite difficult to cultivate, and he was prepared to put in the long, arduous work required.

Refining Spiritual Qi, condensing Spiritual Fire, practicing Techniques, researching materials... Anton was run off his feet, yet he felt no fatigue. On the contrary, he felt exceptionally fulfilled.

The sensation of clearly feeling his own power gradually increase was truly addicting.

However, something else came up at the same time.

Now that he had turned sixty, it was time for Anton to participate in the practical combat course, as per Clan regulations.

...

A cluster of treehouses was situated on the northeast side of the settlement.

The community of treehouses was backed by a hill that rose like a reclining ox. A thousand-year-old oak grew on the hilltop, its crown spreading out like a canopy and serving as a natural watchtower.

This was the garrison of the Forest Guard, located right on the edge of the forest and less than three kilometers from the outer perimeter.

Early one morning, Anton and Romance arrived at the entrance to the garrison.

Today was the day of their first practical combat course.

"The instructor said our opponents for this course are Lizard-men."

Romance shouldered her War Axe, looking like she was itching for a fight.

"I've never fought a Lizard-man in my life. I'm going to kill my fill today!"

The young woman's excited voice drew strange looks from a few Elves nearby.

Anton, however, was long past being surprised by it.

Despite being an Elf, Romance was more belligerent than a Beastman to her very core.

Ever since he'd defeated her, she had been dragging him into spars every few days. No matter how many times he beat her, she would come back for the next challenge full of vigor.

It had to be said, her tenacity was truly admirable.

Romance's advancement to the Black Iron Tier at such a young age wasn't just due to her talent. Her disposition was also a major contributing factor.

"Anton. Romance."

Aemon and Braiden walked over just then.

Both were wearing grayish-blue robes, on which the faint glimmer of Magic Power circuits was visible.

These were magic robes issued by the Elf Race specifically for its Casters. They were inscribed with runes for effects like temperature regulation, moisture-proofing, waterproofing, and arrow avoidance, and were classified as lesser magic items.

Any young member of the race who passed their magic instructor's assessment could receive a magic robe, signifying they were now an introductory Caster.

Lesser magic items, which would be expensive in the outside world, were standard issue for every young Caster in the Silver Moon Race. This fact alone was a testament to the Clan's profound heritage.

This was the advantage of being a long-lived, intelligent people.

"Anton, where's your magic robe?"

Seeing Anton wearing only a suit of leather armor with a jet-black Long Sword at his waist, Aemon couldn't help but look puzzled.

"A magic robe is too cumbersome. I'm fine in this," Anton chuckled.

'I have important business today; a magic robe would just get in my way.'

Aemon and Braiden exchanged a baffled glance.

'A magic robe is cumbersome?'

'But don't all Casters wear them?'

Seeing that Anton didn't plan to explain, the two of them tactfully dropped the subject and began chatting about the day's combat course instead.

Though it was called a practical combat course, it was really more of an assessment.

Participants would have to hunt targets in an area prepared by the Forest Guard. It would be a true battle with live weapons, and blood would be shed.

Although the Forest Guard had some protective measures in place, many Elves were still injured every year, and there had even been a few deaths.

For the sparsely populated Elf Race, the decision to hold such a practical assessment was not one taken lightly.

As time passed, more and more people arrived at the garrison entrance.

Soon, more than twenty people had gathered, chatting quietly in small groups.

Anton suddenly felt a gaze on him. Turning his head, his eyes met Eleanor's from over twenty meters away.

When she saw him looking, Eleanor gave him a long, hard look before turning away, her expression unreadable.

'Is it just me, or did she look at me like she's got a problem with me?'

Anton was puzzled, but he quickly shook his head and put it out of his mind. He turned back to continue his idle chat with Romance, Aemon, and Braiden.

Nearby, Laila had noticed their little exchange and chuckled quietly. "What's this? Eagerly anticipating Anton's performance today?"

"I wouldn't say 'anticipating'," Eleanor replied coolly. "I just hope today's battle will make him realize his own shortcomings and understand that talent isn't everything."

Laila grinned. "You're so mean, wanting to see a newcomer make a fool of himself."

Eleanor shot her a glare and ignored the comment.

"Quiet!"

A deep, resonant voice suddenly rang out, silencing all the whispers.

A male and a female Elf walked out from the garrison and came to a stop before the crowd.

The male Elf on the left was tall, his long, dark brown hair tied into a ponytail. His features were as firm and resolute as if carved from stone.

He wore exquisite leather armor engraved with the Silver Moon crest, a Long Sword hanging at his waist. His entire being radiated an aura as steady as a mountain.

The female Elf on the right was much more slender, with neat, short, dark-red hair. There was a sharp, piercing quality to her eyes.

"I am Finn," the male Elf began, his voice deep and powerful. "Captain of the Forest Guard's First Squad."

"Rosaline, Captain of the Second Squad," the red-haired woman added, her tone crisp and efficient. "The two of us will be presiding over today's practical combat course."

"We're moving out to the grounds now."

The moment he finished speaking, Finn turned and headed away from the settlement. Rosaline and the other guards immediately followed, their movements remarkably decisive and efficient.

This wasn't the first practical combat course for Eleanor, Laila, and their group. Accustomed to the routine, they immediately fell in step behind them.

The newcomers froze for a moment before snapping out of it and scrambling to keep up.

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