Harvest of One Hundred Thousand Years
At this moment, Leon had already returned to his room.
The wooden door closed behind him with a soft sound.
The chamber was quiet. Sunlight filtered through the paper windows, painting pale golden lines across the floor. Dust motes drifted slowly through the light like tiny floating stars.
Leon stood still for a moment.
Then he spoke calmly.
"System…"
A familiar mechanical voice echoed immediately in his mind.
[Ding…]
[You imparted one thousand years of cultivation to your student, triggering a Critical Hit Return.]
[Activate?]
Leon's lips slowly curled upward.
That expression—
half calm, half sly.
"Activate."
A glint of anticipation flashed in his purple eyes.
For a brief moment, the room felt strangely quiet.
Then—
[Congratulations.]
[You triggered a one hundred times critical strike.]
[You obtained one hundred thousand years of cultivation.]
Leon froze.
Then his eyes widened slightly.
"A hundred thousand years!!!"
