As Esdeath and Aizen entered the Virtual Battle Arena, the others began speculating.
Richest Man: "Who do you think will win?"
Ordinary Group Leader: "Genuinely no idea."
Ordinary Group Leader: "Before, I would've said Aizen for sure."
Ordinary Group Leader: "But after Esdeath fused with Extreme Ice: Phoenix, she's become incredibly strong. Meanwhile, Aizen—that sneaky bastard—barely shows his face in the chat group. My impression of him is still stuck in the past. I have no clue how much he's improved..."
Ordinary Group Leader: "So I'd say fifty-fifty. He didn't even participate in any Transmigrator missions."
Uchiha Dance King: "Aizen will win."
The instant Roxie finished speaking, Madara flatly dismissed her prediction, choosing Aizen without a shred of hesitation.
Ordinary Group Leader: "???"
Ordinary Group Leader: "Why are you so sure?"
Madara said nothing. His mind drifted back to their last battle in the Virtual Battle Arena.
He had fallen asleep.
He'd had a dream.
In that dream, he and Aizen fought with everything they had. He'd used nearly every ocular technique at his disposal.
And the outcome was beyond question—he won.
At the time, he hadn't even suspected it was a dream.
Because it had been too real. So real that both his body and his mind insisted it was reality.
The reason he'd woken up was almost laughable.
In the dream, Aizen's Kyōka Suigetsu had been ineffective against him—so Aizen had relied on various Shinigami techniques to engage him in combat. By all rights, at his current level of power, he shouldn't have needed more than a handful of ocular techniques to defeat Aizen. Yet he'd found himself involuntarily deploying nearly every single one.
Among those techniques, quite a few should have killed Aizen outright. But against all odds, Aizen had escaped death each time through one contrived method or another.
He'd won in the end, but felt no satisfaction whatsoever.
Instead, doubt had crept in.
He'd realized that Aizen's true strength should have made it impossible for him to dodge those techniques through such absurd means. And he himself was not so weak as to need his full arsenal against Aizen.
From doubt to certainty—it took only an instant.
The moment he confirmed he was inside an illusory world, the dream shattered, and he returned to reality, face to face with the real Aizen.
"Kyōka Suigetsu?"
He looked at Aizen and asked, frowning.
"That was a different world's reality."
"This battle—you won."
Aizen had said those words, then immediately surrendered and forfeited.
Madara exited the Virtual Battle Arena. Aizen announced his loss in the chat group, and Madara said nothing more.
He could tell Aizen was concealing the true extent of his abilities, but he had no intention of exposing him.
Everyone had a few hidden cards up their sleeve.
Still, that illusion had been strange. Even his enhanced ocular power hadn't seen through it.
This time, he'd broken free by questioning his own performance and Aizen's apparent weakness. But next time?
Now that he recognized Aizen's strength was likely on par with his own, he wouldn't be able to escape using the same method.
So—what would he do?
---
Meanwhile, in the real world, the internet—already buzzing with discussions about newly recognized Second-Sequence and First-Sequence Awakened appearing across the globe—erupted into even greater excitement when a wave of videos surfaced.
The videos came from people in different regions of the Dragon Kingdom, but their content was remarkably similar.
Mutated beasts. Beast tides. Daoist priests in flowing robes.
Shushan, Quanzhen, Longhu Mountain, Wudang... the disciples of every major sect were visible, and in significant numbers.
In every video, they wielded strikingly similar abilities.
Swordsmanship. Talismans. Ritual instruments. Formations. Spells.
There were videos of Buddhist monks too, though fewer in number. Their disciples also displayed near-identical abilities.
Claw techniques. Fist arts. Palm strikes. Leg methods.
When Xu Qing and Fa Hai had first demonstrated abilities like these, people assumed they were simply Awakened powers—personal expressions of their spiritual abilities. Some had even joked that Daoists and Buddhists being Daoists and Buddhists naturally meant their Awakened abilities would match their traditions.
But then video after video emerged, one Daoist disciple after another displaying the same kinds of abilities.
Sword-riding, for instance, had become practically standard equipment for them.
Gradually, people realized these weren't Awakened abilities at all. These practitioners were genuinely using martial arts, Daoist spells, and immortal techniques.
After all, even within the same sect, it would be impossible for everyone to awaken the exact same ability.
So the Spiritual Energy Revival hadn't just brought Awakened powers—they could actually cultivate immortality now?
"Enough said—with this many videos right here, I initially thought Xu Qing and the others were using Awakened abilities, but they were actually using real Shushan swordsmanship?"
"I knew the Spiritual Energy Revival couldn't just bring Awakened abilities! What's so great about Awakened abilities? We're from the Dragon Kingdom—we should be cultivating immortality!"
"Before the revival, we were in the Age of Dharma Decline and couldn't cultivate. Now that spiritual energy has returned, isn't it perfectly normal? smug.jpg"
"But why hasn't the government said a word about this? If cultivation is really possible, shouldn't they have revealed it sooner? Or just released a universal cultivation method for everyone?"
"That's what I'm wondering too. It can't be because they want to hoard the spiritual energy, right? Cultivation depends on aptitude! According to every xianxia novel, the number of people who can actually cultivate is pretty small."
"And it's dangerous out there now—shouldn't they be making more talented people stronger so we're all safer?"
The debates raged.
In the past, plenty of cynical or hostile comments would have appeared. But although some people raised doubts, and suspicious thoughts lurked in many minds, nobody aired them publicly. Instead, they asked their questions while waiting for the government's official response.
Some went so far as to tag the social media accounts of various Daoist sects, demanding to know whether the sects had started cultivating behind everyone's backs.
Time passed as the discussions continued, and the official response finally arrived in the form of a video.
Countless netizens clicked in—excited, agitated, anxious—and a scene filled their screens.
Rows upon rows of densely packed bookshelves, all loaded with ancient texts.
Daoist and Buddhist scriptures of every kind could be found here. Of course, these were all printed editions.
"We understand everyone's questions, and we appreciate the urgency you feel."
"In truth, if cultivation were truly available to all, we would want every person to cultivate diligently, to grow stronger, to gain the ability to protect themselves."
"But unfortunately, not everyone can cultivate."
"At present, those who can cultivate are limited to practitioners within the sects—those who possess deep understanding of, and commitment to, their own Dao."
"..."