Chapter 5: The Path
The question remained suspended before my eyes.
[Choose a path.]
[Knight]
[Mage]
I stared at the words without moving.
In the novel, this choice had been simple.
The protagonist chose the path of the Knight—pure physical combat, aura reinforcement, overwhelming frontal power. It was a straightforward route, favored by the world itself. Knights were glorified. Their growth was visible. Their strength was easily measured.
It was the path destiny approved of.
But I was not destiny's favorite.
And more importantly—I remembered something the protagonist never questioned.
In the early part of the novel, there had been another character.
Someone who did not shine like the protagonist. Someone who did not receive blessings at every turning point. Someone whose existence felt… inconvenient to the narrative.
Yet despite that, for a long time, that person stood above the protagonist.
Stronger. More refined. More dangerous.
If not for the protagonist's plot armor—if not for destiny bending events in his favor—he would never have surpassed that person.
That character had chosen a path far more difficult.
A path most people avoided.
A path that demanded more mana, more control, and more discipline than ordinary cultivators could ever sustain.
Spellblade.
A dual path.
Knight and Mage.
Body and spell.
Power and precision.
There was a reason this path was rarely chosen.
Spellblades consumed far more mana than ordinary cultivators. As their realm increased, the mana required to maintain both physical reinforcement and spellcasting multiplied exponentially.
Most people collapsed early—either their bodies failed, or their mana reserves dried up.
But in exchange—
Spellblades were monsters.
They were stronger than cultivators of the same realm. Strong enough to fight enemies who stood a full realm above them and still survive.
Risk and reward.
That was the kind of road I needed.
I lifted my gaze.
"System," I said calmly, "I choose both."
For the first time since its appearance, the system hesitated.
[Warning.]
[Dual-path selection detected.]
I did not blink.
"Confirm," I said.
A moment passed.
[Confirming host intent…]
"Yes."
The system responded.
[The host has chosen the path of the Spellblade.]
The instant the words appeared, I felt the change.
The flow of mana inside my body shifted.
Previously, it had moved in a single circuit—gathering, compressing, stabilizing.
Now, it split.
One stream flowed outward, reinforcing muscles, bones, and organs. My body grew heavier, denser, sturdier.
The other stream refined itself inward, sharpening, condensing, becoming volatile and precise—ready to be shaped into spells.
It was uncomfortable.
No—painful.
But pain was expected.
This was not a path meant for comfort.
I continued cultivating.
The Star Breathing Technique drew mana toward me relentlessly. The night sky outside was still dark, stars faintly visible through the window. Under their light, the technique's effect intensified.
Mana poured into my body at an incredible rate.
[Congratulations.]
[You have reached the Awakening Stage — Mid Tier.]
My heart beat harder.
My breath grew heavier.
But my posture did not break.
I did not stop.
[Congratulations.]
[You have reached the Awakening Stage — High Tier.]
The pressure increased dramatically.
My veins burned faintly. My muscles trembled as mana surged through them, reinforcing and reshaping.
Still, I pushed forward.
I remembered the protagonist.
How he broke through realms as if the world itself was clearing the path for him. How his reckless cultivation never backfired.
I pushed again.
[Congratulations.]
[You have reached the Awakening Stage — Peak Tier.]
The room shook.
Mana surged violently, colliding within my meridians. For a brief moment, I felt something crack—like a warning tremor before collapse.
Then the system intervened.
[Warning.]
[Host, please stop cultivation immediately.]
[Severe instability detected.]
My brows knit together.
"…What?"
[Breaking through multiple sub-stages without stabilization will result in bodily collapse.]
I clenched my jaw.
"Then how is the protagonist fine when he does this?"
The system answered without hesitation.
[The protagonist possesses plot armor.]
[You do not.]
Silence filled the room.
"…That's unfair."
[Confirmed.]
For a moment, I almost laughed.
So that was the difference.
No destiny.
No narrative protection.
Just raw consequence.
I stopped pushing mana forward and instead began stabilizing the realms I had already broken through. I circulated mana slowly, reinforcing my meridians, compressing excess energy, forcing my body to adapt.
This was the unglamorous part of cultivation.
The part the novel skipped.
Hours passed.
By the time I opened my eyes again, pale morning light filtered through the window.
I exhaled slowly.
Peak-tier Awakening Stage.
Stable.
A knock sounded.
Knock. Knock.
Before Aria could respond, I spoke.
"Who is it?"
"It's Edward, young master."
"Come in."
The door opened.
Edward stepped inside—and froze.
He had served Lucian Valemont for years. He knew his fear, his weakness, his constant avoidance of cultivation.
But now—
The young man before him stood upright, aura stable, mana flowing naturally through his body.
Peak-tier Awakening Stage.
Edward felt a chill run down his spine.
I watched his reaction calmly.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Y-young master," he said, bowing quickly, "the lord has called you for the family breakfast."
"Alright," I replied. "I'll come after getting ready. You may go."
"Yes, young master."
He left hastily.
I could have concealed my cultivation.
The system could do that.
I chose not to.
I disliked hiding when it was unnecessary—and more importantly, hiding would change nothing.
With Aria by my side, assassination was no longer simple.
In the entire Valemont family, the highest realm achieved in this generation was Spirit Link Stage — Mid Tier.
Early realms were easy to break through.
The higher one climbed, the lower the chance of success.
For now, I was still beneath them.
But the gap was shrinking.
I finished preparing and stepped outside.
"Let's go, Aria," I said calmly. "Time for this so-called family breakfast."
"Yes, my lord," she replied, falling into step behind me.
I walked forward without hesitation.
Toward a table filled with people who cared for me so deeply—
They had placed eyes on every corner of my life.
And now, for the first time—
Those eyes would begin to realize something was wrong.