CHAPTER 53: DISCIPLE CULTIVATION SYSTEM CH53 FINAL PREPARATION.

Art POV

I returned home, dejected about my failure.

Launching myself into the soft comfort of my couch, I flipped over and stared at the ceiling of my home with an expression even I couldn’t decipher.

I felt hopeless and over the edge.

Not because of the holes in my memories, but the growing wariness.

Lying still on the couch, I began to realize how misinformed those webnovels I’d read back then were.

I didn’t come into this world with a plan—heck, I don’t even remember when I arrived. It just suddenly happened, and before I knew it, I was staring at a strange woman calling me her son.

I had been confused back then, but within a day, I learned to adapt and began forming a plan.

It wasn’t much.

Just use my system and make sure the story’s plot ran the same.

When I first arrived, I thought it would be that easy—and to my surprise, it actually was.

If I hadn’t been so power-hungry and had learned to observe, so many of my problems wouldn’t be here.

"That actually isn’t true."

Frankly, I didn’t know how much of a hand I had in the ongoing diversion, but I didn’t want to accept it was my fault.

I wanted to believe there was something more at play, something I couldn’t quite see or seem to understand yet.

"I need some fresh air."

Finding my apartment too stifling for comfort, I got off the couch and made my way to the exit.

Grabbing the remaining slice of my cake stored in a plastic container, I left home, choosing to take a walk in the nearby park.

It wasn’t that late in the evening, and yet the streets were less crowded than usual.

Most of the Pillars, including Legacy, had their ranking assessment tomorrow—hence the rather dull evening.

"I guess I have the night to myself."

Crossing the road, I made a swift turn to the park at the corner.

The street lamps cast long shadows of the few crowds taking a walk on the pitch-green grass.

After a few minutes of walking, I made myself comfortable on an unoccupied bench and took a bite out of my cake.

It felt tasteless—a side effect of the horrible day I’d had.

Unable to finish it, I tossed it back into the plastic package and leaned forward.

The rustling of leaves, the chirp of crickets, and the occasional chatter among friends and couples alike echoed in my ears.

A perk of having superhuman senses.

I always coated myself in aura.

I could switch it off if I wanted—or if I had to—but around 90% of my day, I was always engulfed in its glow.

This habit was born of my paranoia, and yet, right now, when I was stressed the most, I found myself switching it off.

I just wanted peace and quiet—and that I got when my senses dulled and returned to human levels.

I could still hear the crickets, the leaves, and even the chatter, but it wasn’t enough to draw my attention.

"Deep breaths." I whispered and closed my eyes, choosing to circulate aura throughout my body.

I didn’t wish for enhancement, hence my senses remained dull while my consciousness was lost to time.

Mages grow through knowledge—as for Warriors, our path of growth lies in enlightenment.

Choosing to forgo my problems, I began to ask myself: How do I achieve enlightenment?

The process varied from person to person.

Some achieved it through training, others after evoking a strong enough emotion.

My enlightenment from three-star to four-star was a product of the latter.

Back then, my desire to overcome Grim fueled my body—not only awakening my intent but also advancing my core.

Of course, this could only be achieved because I had tempered my core for days. If not, I would have only gained intent—not a rank-up.

"Combat experience is back on the menu." I found myself grinning and looked up—

"What the heck?"

In a daze, I muttered, my eyes drawn to the crimson moon hanging in the sky.

---

The Iron City of Kingford—or the Gray City, as it was dubbed—was a large, bustling settlement enclosed on both sides by snowy mountain ranges.

In the lands bleached by pure snow, the city stood tall and imposing, massive metallic-gray walls constructed around it to act as both a cage and a last line of defense.

Above the city and right below the windy clouds was a scar—a long and thin streak of red that cut from the east sector of the city to the north.

The scar, commonly known as the Rift, was an interdimensional bridge between the material world and the Abyssal World.

It was also the main reason the city below it existed.

A bridge allowed both entry and exit.

Just as the Rift was visible to the material world, so too was it visible to those of the Abyssal World.

The bridge itself had appeared sixteen years ago. A year later, the world experienced its first contact with the Abyss.

When entities of that realm were left to their own devices, they corrupted and eroded the world. Hence, to protect it, a city and a fortress were built to kill anything that stepped outside the Rift.

In Kingford City, it was called the "kill on sight rule" —and today was no exception.

A stray creature had slipped out of the Rift and managed to fall into the city undetected.

It observed the living beings in the city and concluded it couldn’t fit in, judging by its appearance.

So it hid, observed, and learned.

It first noticed some living beings hid their appearance—not just in metallic plates of armor but in long, thick clothing that also concealed their faces.

After a few more observations, it realized it could shield its irregular body underneath the cloth and blend in.

Hidden within the alleyway of the bustling streets, it scanned for the perfect opportunity—and right when a living being in a cloak passed by, it stretched out its thin hand and dragged them into the dark alleyway.

It was night, and the streets were far too crowded to take notice of a missing person.

After the successful capture, it snapped the neck of the living being and wore their cloak.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was beginning to understand this world and its inhabitants—hence, it concluded that as long as it mimicked their mannerisms, it could go unnoticed.

Grabbing the corpse, the creature tossed it into a large garbage bin and began its attempt at walking outside.

The path ahead was new but strangely enchanting.

This newfound intelligence frightened it but also filled it with curiosity.

So many possibilities raced through its mind. It wanted to embrace it—it wanted to evolve—hence it took its first step outside.

It was cleaved in half after.

A high-pitched scream ran wild among the crowd at the sudden gruesome sight—and yet, after what lay underneath the cloak was revealed, screams turned into horrified expressions.

That wasn’t human... no, it didn’t even fit the criteria to be seen as a race.

It was grotesque, disfigured, and alien.

Something that could only be birthed by the Abyss—and yet, its form shared a strange resemblance to the humanoid races.

"Dear God!"

A silver-haired man with a scarred face exclaimed, landing right over the Abyssal creature’s corpse.

Holding a silver spear laced in deep black blood, he clicked his tongue, his green eyes squirming in disdain.

"These things are evolving!"

Shivering at that thought, he backed away, watching eagerly as the city’s defenses rushed toward the death scene to examine the corpse.

His gaze only left the corpse after the city defense carried it away—and yet, his expression remained unchanged.

"Anastasia... are we really ready for what’s to come?"

The individual he was addressing could be thousands of miles from him, but he knew she would hear.

So, until she responded, he leaped onto a roof and gazed at the moon, his tense expression warming into one of serenity.