The sun was setting over the Ashworth estate, casting long shadows across the immactely kept gardens. I stood by the window in Old Master Ashworth''s private study, watching as thest rays of golden light painted the western sky in brilliant hues of orange and crimson.


    "Bold move, young man," Michael Ashworth said from his seat. Despite his advanced age and declining health, his voice still carried the strength of a man who hadmanded respect for decades. "Challenging the ckthorne heir publicly... not many would dare."


    I turned to face him. "Sometimes the best strategy is the one your opponent least expects."


    The old man chuckled, then broke into a cough that shook his frail frame. Isabelle, who sat beside him, quickly poured a cup of medicinal tea and helped him drink it.


    "Grandfather, please rest," she said softly, concern etched across her beautiful features.


    When his coughing subsided, Michael Ashworth looked up at me with sharp eyes that belied his weakened body. "My granddaughter believes in you, Mr. Knight. That alone makes you worth my attention."


    Isabelle''s cheeks colored slightly, but she didn''t deny his words.


    "I hope to prove worthy of that belief, sir," I replied, meaning every word.


    The old man studied me intently. "Do you know what I wish for most before I leave this world?"


    I remained silent, waiting for him to continue.


    "To see my Isabelle married to a man of true worth." His gaze flicked between us. "Someone who values her for more than just the Ashworth name and fortune."


    Isabelle''s eyes widened. "Grandfather!"


    He patted her hand affectionately. "An old man can speak his mind, dear one. Especially when time grows short."


    A heavy silence fell over the room. The implication of his words hung in the air between us, both a blessing and a burden.


    "I should return to my preparations," I said finally. "The duel with Preston Ironwood approaches quickly."


    Michael Ashworth nodded. "Indeed. And how goes your breakthrough attempt?"


    My expression must have answered his question because he sighed. "I see."


    "I haven''t given up," I assured him. "There''s still time."


    "Not much," Isabelle said quietly. "Four days isn''t long to achieve what you need."


    She was right, and we all knew it. Without a breakthrough to the next stage of cultivation, my chances against Preston Ironwood were slim at best.


    As I bowed and turned to leave, Michael Ashworth called out, "Mr. Knight."


    I paused at the doorway.


    "My family has always recognized true strength, even when ites in unexpected packages." His eyes met mine with surprising intensity. "Don''t disappoint us."


    ---


    Back in the secluded valley Adrian had found for me, I sat cross-legged on arge, t stone, my eyes closed in deep meditation. Three days had passed since my conversation with Old Master Ashworth. Three days of continuous attempts to break through to the next cultivation level.


    Eight Earth Rank pills consumed. Eight pills that should have been more than enough to propel most cultivators to a breakthrough. <var ss="in-imprint-a">The full series lives on My Virtual Library Empire (*).</var>


    Yet my body had absorbed their energy without advancing.


    Adrian watched me from a few paces away, his brow furrowed with concern. "Perhaps we should try a different approach," he suggested as I opened my eyes.


    I exhaled slowly, frustration evident in my breath. "We''ve tried everything. Different pills, different techniques. Nothing works."


    Adrian stroked his chin thoughtfully. "It''s unprecedented. Your body has absorbed enough energy to advance three cultivation stages, yet you remain at Foundation Establishment."


    "And my duel with Preston Ironwood is in four days." I stood up, muscles stiff from sitting for hours. "At this rate, I''ll face him without the power I need."


    "You could still withdraw the challenge," Adrian offered, though he knew what my answer would be.


    I shook my head firmly. "Never."


    We fell silent as I paced the small clearing, trying to work through the problem. The pills had strengthened my foundation considerably—my spiritual energy was denser, my meridians wider—but the breakthrough barrier remained solid and unyielding.


    "It''s strange," Adrian mused after a while. "In my decades of experience, I''ve never seen anyone unable to advance after consuming so many high-quality pills. It''s almost as if..."


    "As if what?" I prompted when he trailed off.


    His eyes lit up with sudden understanding. "As if your potential is so vast that it requires more energy than normal to advance. Like filling an ocean instead of ake."


    The theory made a certain kind of sense. "So you''re saying this isn''t failure. It''s just... insufficient resources?"


    Adrian nodded excitedly. "Exactly! This actually confirms what I''ve suspected—your talent is truly exceptional. Most cultivators would have exploded trying to contain the energy you''ve absorbed."


    While his words were encouraging, they didn''t solve my immediate problem. "Exceptional or not, I still have to face Preston Ironwood in four days."


    The next morning dawned clear and bright, but it brought no breakthrough. I stood at the edge of the valley, watching the sunrise with heavy thoughts. One more day had slipped away, leaving just three before my duel.


    Adrian approached, carrying tea he had brewed over a small fire. "Any progress?"


    I epted the cup with a grateful nod. "None."


    "Liam," he said seriously, "let me take your ce in the duel."


    I nearly choked on my tea. "What?"


    "The challenge was issued to defend my honor as much as yours. I should be the one to face Preston."


    I studied my friend and mentor''s face. The offer was genuine, but I couldn''t ept it. "This is my battle now. I won''t hide behind anyone else."


    "But without a breakthrough—"


    "I''ll find another way," I cut him off. "Every obstacle has a solution. I just haven''t found this one yet."


    Adrian sighed, recognizing my stubbornness. "Then what''s your n?"


    Good question. I took another sip of tea while considering my options. "My cultivation level isn''t everything I have. My physical body has been tempered beyond what most cultivators achieve."


    "True," Adrian acknowledged. "Your physical strength might match a cultivator two levels above you. But Preston is at least three levels higher, possibly more."


    "And he relies heavily on technique rather than raw power," I added, remembering what I knew of Preston''s fighting style. "Which means I need to counter with superior technique of my own."


    I set down my tea and pulled out the jade slip containing my father''s legacy. Over the past weeks, I had been studying differentbat techniques recorded within it, searching for something that might give me an edge.


    One technique in particr had caught my attention: "Shrinking Ground Into An Inch." It was a movement technique that altered the user''s perception of distance, allowing them to cross great spaces in what appeared to be a single step.


    "This," I said, showing Adrian the jade slip. "This might be my answer."


    Adrian''s eyes widened as he recognized the technique. "That''s... remarkably advanced. Where did you find this?"


    "My father''s legacy. You recognize it?"


    He nodded slowly. "It''s a high-level technique. Few masters can perform it correctly."


    "But you can," I said. It wasn''t a question—I had seen Adrian use a simr movement technique during our training.


    "I learned an imperfect version years ago," he admitted. "It took me a decade to master even that."


    "I don''t need a decade. I need three days."


    Adrian looked skeptical. "Even with your talent, that''s asking the impossible."


    "Maybe. But it''s the only chance I have." I stood up, determination filling me. "Will you help me?"


    After a moment of hesitation, Adrian nodded. "I''ll teach you what I know, but the rest will be up to you."


    For the next two days, we trained relentlessly. Adrian broke down the technique into its coreponents—the specific cirction of spiritual energy, the mental visualization required, the precise timing of each movement.


    I practiced until my meridians burned and my legs trembled with exhaustion. By the end of the second day, I could manage a crude version of the step—covering twice the normal distance, but nowhere near the instantaneous movement the full technique promised.


    "It''s not enough," I muttered, copsing onto the ground after another failed attempt.


    Adrian handed me a waterskin. "You''ve aplished in two days what takes most cultivators months. Be patient."


    "Patience is a luxury I don''t have," I reminded him. "The duel is tomorrow."


    As the sun set on our final day of training, I sat in meditation, reviewing everything I had learned. The technique remained iplete, my breakthrough stubbornly out of reach.


    Yet somehow, I felt calm. The path forward was clear, even if victory wasn''t guaranteed.


    "Onest attempt," I said, rising to my feet. "Then we rest for tomorrow."


    Adrian stood opposite me, acting as my target. I took a deep breath, centering myself and gathering my spiritual energy. The key, ording to the jade slip, wasn''t forcing the energy but allowing it to flow naturally while maintaining perfect focus on your destination.


    I fixed my gaze on Adrian, thirty paces away. In my mind, I copsed that distance to nothing—a single step, an inch, a breath.


    Then I moved.


    The world blurred around me. For a heartbeat, I felt weightless, disconnected from physical space. Then I was there, directly in front of Adrian, close enough to see the shock in his eyes.


    "You did it," he whispered, amazed.


    I nodded, equally surprised. "Not perfect, but enough to surprise Preston."


    As we packed up our camp to return to the city, a thought suddenly struck me. The technique had seemed familiar when I first saw it in the jade slip—not just because I had seen Adrian use something simr, but because I had witnessed it elsewhere too.


    In Preston Ironwood''s own fighting style.


    A cold feeling settled in my stomach. If Preston already knew this technique, my advantage would be neutralized. Worse, he might have mastered it to a degree I couldn''t match in such a short time.


    I turned to Adrian, my heart pounding with sudden urgency.


    "Adrian," I asked, my voice tense with the weight of everything riding on his answer, "did you ever pass this cultivation skill on to Preston Ironwood?"