Vampire Progenitor of the Immortal World

Chapter 48: Chapter 45 : Measured Strength (2)

He tried again the following day.

It failed.

Ethan stared at the page for a while afterward, then laughed quietly.

"So it isn’t that simple."

That was fine. The failure told him something too. He had assumed the previous success had come from physical exertion. Perhaps it had, perhaps not. There were too many differences between the two situations: his physical condition, his breathing, his concentration, the time of day, what he had eaten, how long he had cultivated beforehand, and even his state of mind.

Too many variables.

Ethan rubbed his forehead. He had wanted an answer. Instead, he had acquired another question. But it was a better question. He did not need certainty yet. He needed a direction.

So he continued. He changed one thing at a time, rested more between attempts, and did not deliberately push himself toward exhaustion. When the warmth appeared, he watched it rather than chasing it. When it disappeared, he stopped. When nothing happened, he recorded nothing more than that.

Slowly, the failures began to feel less like failures. They were narrowing the possibilities, and that was progress.

The process also changed something else. Ethan began to recognize the earliest signs. Before, Blood Tempering had always seemed like something that happened to him. Now he could sometimes sense the approach: a subtle warmth, a change in circulation, and a slight difference in how his body responded to exertion. None of those signs guaranteed activation, but they gave him warning. That alone was valuable.

One evening, after another short attempt, Ethan leaned against the wall and looked at his notes. There were more pages now. Not many, but enough. He read them slowly. The conclusion forming in his mind was still incomplete, yet one thing had become clear.

Blood Tempering did not seem to be a simple reserve of strength that he could pull out whenever he wished. It was closer to a response, something his body could enter under the right conditions. And the stronger the response, the greater the cost.

That explained his experience in the forest. He had not been calmly using an ability. His body had been pushed into a state where it had no choice but to respond. The result had saved him, but the price had nearly left him helpless afterward.

Ethan closed the journal. He remembered the forest: the blades, the pain, the exhaustion afterward, and the long recovery before he could even continue his mission. He did not want to repeat that experience, not unless there was absolutely no other choice.

That thought stayed with him. If he ever used Blood Tempering in a real fight, he would not know how long the fight would last. He would not know how much strength he would need, and he would not know whether an opponent would force him to use it again. Practice could be stopped. A fight could not always be stopped when he wanted. That made the difference enormous.

Ethan reached into his bag and felt the small packets of traveler’s strength brew. He had bought them for a simple reason:

preparation.

Not because he expected them to save him, and not because he intended to rely on them, but because walking into an uncertain situation without considering the consequences was foolish. He put the bag away, then looked at his short dao. His understanding of that weapon was still shallow compared with someone who had trained for years, but he had stopped expecting quick answers. Some things took repetition. Some things took mistakes. Some things required knowing when to stop. Blood Tempering appeared to belong to all three.

The next attempt was his cleanest yet. Ethan had returned from work tired but not exhausted. He ate, rested, and cultivated. When the familiar warmth appeared, he did not chase it. He allowed it to remain.

One breath.

Two.

Three.

Then he gently withdrew his attention. The warmth faded. No collapse followed. No sudden weakness. Only ordinary fatigue. Ethan remained seated, his breathing calm, and he smiled. It was small, almost nothing, but it was the first time the sensation had felt less like an accident.

He opened his journal.

This time, he wrote more carefully:

The response can appear without reaching exhaustion. He stared at the sentence, then added:

Short activation is possible. Control remains inconsistent.

He stopped. That was enough. He closed the journal. He had wanted strength. What he had gained was something more useful.

A limit.

And limits could be measured.

The days continued. The city remained busy around him. Merchants shouted prices, carts rolled through the streets, cultivators came and went, and ordinary people lived their ordinary lives without knowing that Ethan was quietly trying to understand something no one else around him could see.

He continued working, cultivating, using the reddish-brown herb sparingly when recovery required it, carrying his small reserve of traveler’s brew, and recording only what mattered. Blood Tempering remained unfinished. Sometimes Ethan could trigger a brief response. Sometimes he could not. Sometimes the warmth came during cultivation, sometimes after exertion, and sometimes it refused to appear at all.

But the difference between now and the beginning was undeniable. He no longer waited helplessly for it. He was learning where the boundary lay, and that boundary was becoming clearer.

One evening, Ethan sat alone and counted the remaining resources in his room: food, herbs, the small recovery brew, cultivation materials, and money. He looked at them for a long moment. He had been careful, very careful, but careful did not mean endless.

The resources he had purchased when he first settled into the city were slowly disappearing. So was his money. Ethan leaned back. He had spent enough time thinking about strength. Now reality was reminding him of something else.

Cultivation required resources.

Food cost money. Lodging cost money. Recovery cost money. Even learning cost money. He looked at the remaining supplies again, then at his journal. He had finally begun to understand how much control mattered, but control alone would not carry him forward.

If he wanted to continue cultivating, continue experimenting, and continue traveling, he needed something that was running out faster than patience.

Money.

Ethan closed the bag and stood. Tomorrow, he would need to find work again, and this time, he would have to make sure the work took him somewhere worth going.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!