WebNovels

Chapter 5 - Chapter 5: Power Levels and Divine Limitations

The next morning, I woke with a purpose that felt clearer than it had in weeks.

"Sharanga, I need to understand something," I said as I got dressed. "Those thugs last night – they were Body Foundation Level 5 or 6, right?"

"Correct. You sensed their cultivation accurately."

"And I'm only Level 3. But you're a divine weapon. Couldn't we have defeated them if I'd fought?"

There was a pause. When Sharanga spoke, its tone was carefully measured. "Yes and no. We need to discuss something important, little archer. Something about what I actually am."

I sat down, giving the bow my full attention.

"I am Sharanga, a divine weapon forged in the Age of Gods. At my peak, I could level mountains. Create arrows that pierced through dimensions. My previous wielder could fire a single shot that destroyed an entire army." The bow's voice grew somber. "But that power isn't mine alone. It's ours together. A divine weapon is only as strong as its wielder can handle."

"I don't understand."

"Think of me as a reservoir of infinite water, and you as the pipe through which it flows. Right now, you're a small pipe. You can access only a fraction of my true power – the amount your Body Foundation Level 3 cultivation can channel without killing you."

The explanation hit me like cold water. "So even though you're divine, I can't use your full strength."

"Exactly. At your current level, I'm essentially a very high-quality normal bow with some special properties. You can create basic energy arrows, achieve perfect accuracy within your skill range, and I won't break no matter how much you use me. But the legendary abilities – the dimensional-piercing shots, the reality-breaking arrows, the ability to fire multiple targets simultaneously across vast distances – those require you to be much, much stronger."

"How much stronger?"

"Core Formation Realm minimum for mid-tier divine abilities. Soul Manifestation for advanced techniques. Domain Creation before you can even attempt my true form." Sharanga paused. "My last wielder was at Divine Ascension Realm. Only then could I operate at full capacity."

I felt a mix of disappointment and relief. Disappointment that I didn't have instant OP power. Relief that there was a logical system to how this worked.

"So against those Level 5 thugs last night...?"

"You could have fought them, yes. Your advantage would have been accuracy and the fact that I never miss when you aim correctly. But in terms of raw power output? You'd be roughly equal to one of them. Three on one, with your current combat experience? You would have lost."

"That's... humbling."

"It's realistic. Divine weapons don't make you instantly powerful. They give you the potential to become powerful, and tools that grow with you. Right now, I'm helping you cultivate faster than normal weapon users. Your progression from nothing to Level 3 in three weeks would take others three months."

"So I'm leveling faster, but still need to actually level."

"Precisely. There are no shortcuts to true strength, little archer. Even with me." Sharanga's tone softened. "But here's what I can do for you now: Perfect accuracy within fifty meters. Energy arrows that hit harder than mundane ones. The ability to sense cultivators' power levels accurately. And most importantly, a cultivation method that will get you to Spirit Awakening Realm in about two months if you train diligently."

"Two months." I did the math. "That's when the Imperial Tournament happens. The one where all the young cultivators compete."

"Is that significant?"

"Very. It's where prodigies make their names. Where sects recruit talented disciples. Where noble families show off their strength." A plan was forming in my mind. "If I could enter at Spirit Awakening Realm and do well, it would completely change how people see me. But also..."

"It would expose you."

"Yeah. Once people know I can cultivate, the questions start. How did I fix my meridians? Where did I learn weapon cultivation? Why did I hide it?" I rubbed my temples. "I need to time it perfectly. Enter strong enough to make an impact, but with a believable cover story."

"Two months gives you time to prepare both the power and the narrative."

That afternoon, I asked Priya to meet me in the old library archive – a dusty, forgotten section where no one ever went.

"Why all the secrecy?" she asked, looking around at the cobweb-covered shelves.

"Because I need to show you something, and I need to understand what I'm dealing with." I took a breath. "You're Soul Manifestation Realm, right?"

"Early Soul Manifestation, yes. Why?"

"Can you demonstrate your power? Show me what that level of cultivation actually looks like?"

She raised an eyebrow but didn't question it. "Alright. Stand back."

Priya held out her hand, and the temperature in the room dropped dramatically. Ice crystalized in the air around her, forming intricate patterns. Then she pushed, and the ice shot forward, slamming into an old wooden bookshelf twenty feet away.

The impact was devastating. The entire shelf shattered into splinters, ice spreading across the wreckage like frozen lightning. The force of it made the floor shake.

I stared at the destruction. "That's... that's what Soul Manifestation can do?"

"That's what I can do with about thirty percent of my power." Priya let the ice dissipate. "At full strength, I could freeze this entire wing of the library solid. And I'm not even particularly combat-focused – I specialize in healing and support techniques."

"So actual combat cultivators at your level..."

"Would be much scarier. Yes." She looked at me seriously. "Why are you asking? What's your current level?"

I hesitated, then decided she deserved partial truth. "I'm trying to understand the power scaling in this world. In my old life, I studied the theory, but experiencing it is different. Those thugs last night were Body Foundation Level 5 or 6. You're Soul Manifestation. That's... what, three realms above them?"

"Two realms. Body Foundation, then Spirit Awakening, then Soul Manifestation." She counted on her fingers. "But yes, the gap between realms is massive. Each realm is exponentially stronger than the last. A Soul Manifestation cultivator could defeat dozens of Body Foundation cultivators simultaneously."

"And the realms above you?"

"Core Formation can create their own core of energy, basically having infinite stamina in combat. Domain Creation can manifest their own territory where they control reality itself. Law Comprehension can bend natural laws. Heaven's Defiance can break those laws entirely. And Divine Ascension..." She shook her head. "That's basically becoming a god. There are maybe ten people in the entire empire at that level."

The scale was daunting. I was at Body Foundation Level 3. The top cultivators were literally five realms above me, each realm representing a gap I could barely comprehend.

"Aanya, are you okay? You look pale."

"Just realizing how far I have to go." I forced a smile. "Thanks for the demonstration. It helps to see it, not just read about it."

"Anytime. But seriously, what are you planning?"

"Survival," I said honestly. "Just trying to survive long enough to become strong enough to protect myself."

That night, I returned to training with a new understanding of what I was up against.

"I saw a Soul Manifestation cultivator in action today," I told Sharanga as I practiced my forms. "The power difference is insane."

"Welcome to cultivation reality. Now you understand why hiding your abilities is smart. At your level, you're an ant to most serious cultivators."

"Thanks for the confidence boost."

"I'm being honest, not encouraging. You need to understand the stakes." Sharanga guided my grip. "But here's the thing about weapon cultivation that makes it unique: we scale differently than normal cultivators."

"What do you mean?"

"Normal cultivators build their power slowly, accumulating energy over years. But weapon cultivators grow through battle and mastery. Each fight, each challenge, each technique you perfect unlocks more of my power. The bond between wielder and weapon deepens, allowing greater synchronization."

"So I can grow faster through experience?"

"Yes, but it's more dangerous. Normal cultivators can train safely, meditating and absorbing spiritual energy. You need to push boundaries, face challenges, risk yourself. The greater the trial, the greater the growth."

I nocked an arrow, channeling energy through my meridians and into Sharanga. The arrow formed – not a physical projectile, but pure energy shaped by our combined will. When I released, it flew faster and straighter than any mundane arrow could, slamming into the target tree with a burst of blue light that left a smoking hole.

"That's new," I said, impressed.

"That's your progress. Yesterday, you couldn't manifest energy arrows at all. Today, you can create basic ones. Tomorrow, they'll be stronger. In two months, you'll be able to fire multiple arrows simultaneously, each one tracking its target independently."

"But only if I keep pushing myself."

"Only if you keep pushing yourself," Sharanga agreed. "Which brings us to a problem: you need real combat experience. Training against trees only gets you so far. You need to fight actual opponents."

"Any suggestions that don't involve getting killed?"

"The Underground Arena."

I paused mid-draw. "The what?"

"There's an illegal fighting ring in the Lower City. Cultivators bet on matches, warriors test their skills, no questions asked about identity or background. You could fight there, gain experience, and no one would connect the Trash Princess to a masked archer."

"That sounds incredibly dangerous."

"It is. It's also perfect for your needs. You'll face Body Foundation opponents of various levels, learn real combat, and earn some money on the side. Plus, masks are required – no one will know it's you."

I thought about it. Two months until the tournament. I needed combat experience desperately. The Underground Arena sounded shady as hell, but also like exactly what I needed.

"How do you even know about this?"

"I've been around for three thousand years, little archer. I know many things about many places. The Underground Arena has existed in various forms for centuries. Cultivators need somewhere to fight without sect or family politics involved."

"Alright. I'll check it out. But just reconnaissance first – I need to see what I'm getting into."

"Smart. Always scout before engaging."

Two days later, I snuck into the Lower City wearing a hooded cloak that hid my face.

The Underground Arena was exactly as sketchy as I'd imagined. Located beneath an abandoned warehouse, accessible only through a hidden entrance in an alley. The moment I climbed down the ladder into the underground space, the noise hit me – shouting, cheering, the clash of weapons and the crack of cultivation techniques.

The arena itself was a circular pit about thirty feet in diameter, surrounded by stands packed with spectators. In the pit, two cultivators were fighting viciously. One wielded a sword wreathed in flames. The other fought with bare hands wrapped in stone.

I watched them exchange blows, analyzing their techniques. Both were Body Foundation, maybe Level 6 or 7. The sword wielder was faster, but the stone-fist fighter was more durable. Each hit sent shockwaves through the arena.

Then the sword cultivator made a mistake – overextended on a strike. The stone-fist fighter caught the blade, and with a single punch to the chest, sent his opponent flying out of the arena. The crowd roared.

"First time here?" A voice beside me made me jump.

An old woman sat at a betting table, her eyes shrewd despite her age. She was thin as a reed, dressed in practical clothing, with cultivation aura that suggested Core Formation Realm – way above my level.

"Just observing," I said carefully, keeping my voice neutral.

"Smart girl. Always watch first." She studied me with unnerving intensity. "You're here to fight eventually though. I can tell. You've got that look – hunger for something. Power? Money? Experience?"

"All three."

She laughed, a sound like cracking wood. "Honest too. I like you. Name's Kalyani. I run this place. You want to fight, you register with me. Matches are organized by cultivation level. Body Foundation fights Body Foundation, Spirit Awakening fights Spirit Awakening, and so on. Kill your opponent and you're banned for life. Permanent injury is discouraged but not forbidden. Understand?"

"What about weapons?"

"Allowed, encouraged even. Makes for better fights." Her eyes drifted to my bow, currently hidden under my cloak. "Archers are rare here though. Most people think ranged weapons are cowardly in arena combat."

"Most people are idiots then."

Another crackling laugh. "Oh, I definitely like you. What's your name? For registration."

I thought quickly. "Kali." It meant "dark" or "time" in Sanskrit – appropriate for someone hiding their identity.

"Kali. Good name. Cultivation level?"

I hesitated. If I lied and said higher, I'd face opponents I couldn't beat. If I said my real level, I'd reveal information about my progress.

"Body Foundation Level 4," I lied, splitting the difference.

"Level 4. Weapon specialization. Got it." She scribbled in a ledger. "Entry fee is ten silver. You win, you get twenty. House takes the rest. Interested?"

Ten silver was about a week of allowance for me. Twenty was twice that. And more importantly, this was real combat experience.

"When can I fight?"

"Tomorrow night. We have a Level 4 fighter who needs an opponent. Show up, wear a mask, and try not to die." Kalyani waved dismissively. "Next!"

I left the Arena with my heart pounding. Tomorrow night, I'd face my first real opponent.

"Are you sure about this?" Sharanga asked as we walked home.

"No. But you're right – I need combat experience. And this is the safest way to get it while maintaining secrecy."

"Safe is relative. You could get hurt."

"I know." I pulled the cloak tighter. "But staying weak is more dangerous than getting hurt. Aditi's already sent thugs after me once. Next time might be worse. I need to be ready."

"Then we train hard tomorrow. Get you as prepared as possible."

The next day was a blur of intense practice. Sharanga drilled me on combat scenarios, teaching me techniques I'd never considered.

"In arena combat, you won't have time to aim carefully like in practice. You need to shoot on instinct. Feel where the target is, trust me to guide the arrow, and release."

We practiced quick-draw techniques. Moving while shooting. Creating energy arrows faster. Fighting while maintaining awareness of my surroundings.

By evening, I was exhausted but as ready as I'd ever be.

"Remember," Sharanga said as I prepared to leave. "I can't make you win. I can only help you not lose. Your skill, your tactics, your determination – those will decide the outcome."

"No pressure."

"None whatsoever. Just your first real fight that could result in serious injury or death. Totally casual."

Despite my nerves, I smiled. "When did you develop such a dark sense of humor?"

"Around year two thousand. Helps with the existential dread."

I made my way to the Underground Arena, my heart hammering with each step. This was it. My first real test.

Time to see if the Trash Princess could actually fight.

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