"Come here! Come here!"
"Everyone, take a look at these magical boots! Made from Bronze Snake leather! They'll make you run faster than your dad ran off to buy milk!"
"Forget the boots! Check out my grandfather's secret medicine! One bottle and even two inches becomes Mount Tai! Personally tested!"
"What?! Really, brother?!"
"Really! You can ask your mother!"
"Check out this thirteen-inch—"
The streets below the Clear Sky Sect were alive.
Merchants and vendors crowded both sides of the road, shouting shamelessly as they hawked their… exotic wares. Cultivators in flowing robes mixed with mortals in plain clothes, turning the entire street into a chaotic marketplace beneath the open sky.
Damon walked calmly through the noise, exiting the Clear Sky Sect grounds.
He wasn't wearing the outer disciple robe anymore. Instead, an old, faded grey robe hung loosely from his shoulders.
Normally, this alone would earn him a report to the elders—perhaps even punishment for violating sect dress code.
But Damon didn't care.
After all, he wasn't bound by the sect anymore.
"Leaving the sect was really easy…"
With his hands resting behind his head, Damon strolled down the mountain road, his destination clear—the city at the base of the mountain.
It had been over two hours since he obtained the system.
After choosing to advance his Spirit Root, he had blacked out for a few minutes. When he awoke, the world felt… different.
Cold, yet comfortable energy surrounded him.
Dense.
Incredibly dense.
The sensation was strange—like being submerged in water, yet still breathing air. The feeling pressed against his skin, making his body feel heavy and slightly uncomfortable, as if it hadn't yet adapted to the new state of existence.
He instinctively knew what it was.
Spirit Energy.
Pure, ambient energy—now clearly perceptible to him.
***
[Spirit Root]
Grade: Primordial
Effects:
• Primordial-Grade Aptitude
• Primordial-Grade Energy Sensitivity
• Primordial-Grade Energy Affinity
Description:
Spiritual roots of the highest grade possible in this world. Grants the greatest possible sensitivity, aptitude, and affinity toward cultivation and energy.
***
Primordial grade.
A level so absurd that only a handful of beings across the entire world—even in the Divine Realms—had ever heard of it.
In the original novel, this grade was something that only existed theoretically. Even the protagonist could only reach it through repeated amplification.
And now—
Only Damon possessed it.
Calling off the system interface, Damon focused forward as he finally reached the base of the mountain.
Carriages lined the road. Merchants shouted prices. Peddlers argued with customers.
And in the distance, along the straight stone road ahead, the massive outline of a city loomed.
After obtaining the system, Damon hadn't hesitated.
He left the sect immediately.
He had no interest in the brainholed plot, pointless sect politics, nor did he want to be shackled by rules, obligations, or power struggles.
With the system, resources would never be an issue.
So instead of tying himself to any force, Damon chose the path of a rogue cultivator.
There was another reason too.
His growth speed would soon become abnormal—terrifyingly so. Treasures, abilities, and changes with no reasonable explanation would inevitably follow.
Staying inside a sect meant scrutiny.
Questions.
Suspicion.
So Damon chose solitude—both to avoid the plot and to avoid explaining things that should never be explained.
Leaving the sect was simple.
Return the disciple robe.
Return the identification token.
Return any sect martial arts manuals.
Damon did exactly that.
The only manual he possessed was Beginner's Body Technique—an ungraded manual compiling basic punches, kicks, and movement.
Everyone had access to it.
Returning everything, Damon left without hesitation.
He had no intention of using the system further within sect territory. Any physical change, any unusual fluctuation of cultivation, would attract attention from elders far beyond his current ability to handle.
The city came into view.
"Finally… I'm here."
Damon passed through the massive city gates into Clear Sky City, a mortal city governed by the Clear Sky Sect.
Eastern-style medieval buildings lined the streets. Wooden structures, tiled roofs, and hanging banners filled his vision.
He smiled.
He carried nothing but an old, empty pouch at his waist.
System, multiply the coins.
Selecting a single bronze coin, Damon issued the command.
In an instant, the number multiplied—reaching one billion.
"…A hundred should be enough."
He filled the pouch with exactly one hundred coins.
Spiritual crystals existed—but using such currency in a backwater city like this would only invite trouble.
"First things first… a new robe."
Damon glanced at his ragged grey clothing and sighed.
In a novel world like this, wearing tattered clothes was practically begging to be humiliated by young masters.
He headed toward the marketplace—but avoided the large stores. Instead, he stopped at a small stall near the entrance.
An old man sat on the ground, selling robes laid neatly over a cloth.
"Come here, come here, son!"
Seeing Damon approach in his worn clothes, the old man's eyes lit up.
"Wearing that thing must be unbearable. Look here—this blue robe would suit you perfectly."
He held up a dark blue robe.
Damon crouched and examined it.
Plain. Cheap. But new—and infinitely better than what he was wearing.
"How much?" Damon asked politely.
"Not much at all," the old man smiled. "Thirty copper coins."
"Thirty?" Damon scoffed. "You're joking. Twenty."
"Don't mess with me, kid!" the old man snapped. "I'm already giving you the lowest price. Twenty-eight—final."
"Twenty."
Despite possessing absurd wealth, Damon had no intention of splurging.
Haggling was a habit carved into him over seventeen years of life.
After several rounds, the deal was struck at twenty-five copper coins.
Damon immediately put on the new robe, discarding the old grey one without hesitation.
As the fabric settled on his shoulders, his confidence rose.
With renewed spirit, Damon entered the city proper—first to enjoy a hearty meal, then to book a room in an inn near the inner district.
For now…
Life was just beginning.