Villain Seduces to Rise in Status-Chapter 18 - Weight of Progress

The morning air was cold against his skin as Cale pushed open the dorm door. The sun hadn’t fully crested the horizon yet, painting the sky in shades of amber and deep purple.

Break of dawn. Perfect.

He moved quickly toward the small training ground behind the quarters, keeping his footsteps light. The academy was still mostly asleep at this hour, which meant fewer eyes to watch him.

The ground was empty and quiet, exactly what he needed.

He rolled his shoulders, feeling the difference in his new bones. The new skeletal structure had settled into place, but it felt foreign and strange in a way that made every movement slightly awkward, like wearing someone else’s body entirely.

Okay, let’s try it.

He began running through the moves he’d learned in the dream realm. Basic stuff like how to imbue your skin with aura, how to channel focus during cultivation. Simple techniques that even apprentices should master in their first week.

He called up the first regimen of Blue Thunder Arts in his mind. He’d heard that name his entire life. Half the family knights used it. It was common, widespread taught to thousands of soldiers across the empire.

But the version he’d learned from the previous system users was totally different from what the empire taught. It was original and untainted by decades of modifications and dilutions that had weakened its effectiveness.

He moved through the strikes, body flowing from one motion into the next with increasing intensity. By the eighteenth strike, his entire body was screaming.

"Aaagh!"

He stopped, breathing heavily, hands on his knees.

The new skeleton was stronger and more resilient than before but adaptation was brutal nonetheless.

His muscles didn’t know how to work with this new structure yet, and they kept fighting against it, resisting something that should have made them far more efficient.

"That was just one of the first steps. It’s easy even for novice rankers but here I am having difficulty."

And he still had menial tasks to do, cleaning, maintenance and all the bullshit that came with being the lowest-ranked student in the entire academy.

He sat down on the cold ground, his breath coming in heavy clouds of mist.

So this is what happens when your family has so many heirs. You get neglected and don’t even exist.

If there were only one or two heirs, factions would form. People would compete for position and favor. But with twenty-something siblings and probably fifty or more cousins scattered across the empire? Nobody cared. He was just another name on a very long list.

He forced himself through the academy’s basic cultivation program next, though it was pathetic compared to what he’d learned in the dream realm. The progress was frustratingly slow, but it was at least working in some capacity.

After about ten minutes had passed, the system suddenly chimed loudly.

[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: HOST HAS SURPASSED LIMITS]

[CULTIVATION RANK: NOVICE RANK 3 ATTAINED]

[REWARD PENDING]

His eyes widened in shock as the notification registered in his mind, and a grin spread across his face before he could stop it, unable to contain his joy at the breakthrough.

Hahaha, finally. It took so much time just to get here, and I broke through in just a few hours. Is this thanks to the skeleton? No... maybe?

Then his stomach betrayed him without warning.

He barely made it to the side of the training ground before his breakfast came up. His body convulsed, expelling everything he’d eaten that morning in violent heaves.

Is this... what they call impurities? Like in those novels?

His body was still adapting. Every time his cultivation increased, the adaptation got more intense. Impurities accumulated. The body had to purge them somehow.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, tasting bile.

"Ugh. I do feel happy, but this isn’t even real progress compared to others. They might already be in higher levels."

Rexa had been Novice Rank 6 when they’d last met. Emma was probably even higher by now. And here he was, barely scraping Rank 3, covered in sweat and vomit, with maybe two hours of training time before his duties started.

He cleaned himself up as best he could and headed back to the quarters.

By midday, he was sharpening swords.

The repetitive motion was almost meditative. His hands moved on memory while his mind wandered elsewhere.

The new techniques are good. They’ll take years to master, so at least I have a goal. But with only one or two hours of training and almost no supplies to help... how long can I actually keep this pace? And if I leave this place, who knows how long it will take to reach Inkarsia.

The eastern continent. That’s where real cultivation sects operated.

He was so lost in thought that he didn’t hear the others approach.

"Hey, what’s up with him?"

"He’s been doing the same sword for an hour now."

"Haha, what a weirdo."

A guy moved to hit him, swinging toward his head without warning.

Cale’s body reacted on instinct. He shifted left, and the punch sailed past him. The momentum carried the guy’s arm straight into a spear propped against the wall with a solid impact.

"Ahh!"

The guy yelped, cradling his arm against his chest.

Cale blinked, suddenly aware of where he was again.

"Are you alright? When did you all get here?"

"Don’t worry, don’t worry. But when did your reflexes get so good? You avoided that almost instantly."

Cale extended a hand to help him up, but the guy waved him off and backed away.

"Wait...where are you going?"

"Don’t you remember? It’s been a week. We get our points distributed today."

Oh. Right.

"Ah, you’re right. We can finally eat like humans today."

The guy nodded and hurried off.

Cale stood alone in the courtyard, the sword still in his hand.

Doing these tasks gives me ten points. Even losing a duel gives at least one. Total... thirty-three points.

That was pathetically low. Ten points barely bought a single plate of steak. Thirty-three points meant three meals, maybe four if he was careful and skipped breakfast for a few days.

When will that realm open? When can I leave this place?

The student hall was nearly empty when he arrived. 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

Most were already celebrating with their points, heading to the better dining areas or the market outside the academy grounds.

Teacher Silvester Floyd was asleep at his desk, his head tilted back at an awkward angle, snoring softly.

The teacher was famous—a medal owner from the last war, someone who’d seen real combat. But right now, he just looked like a tired old man taking a nap.

"Sir."

He called out but received no response whatsoever.

"Sirr."

Still, there was nothing but continued snoring from the slumped teacher.

"Sirrrrr!"

Silvester jolted awake like someone had shocked him, his eyes wide and panicked. He looked around frantically, as if someone caught him watching adult stuff.

"Ah, it’s you, young boy."

Cale couldn’t help himself.

"Yeah, it’s me. What women were you dreaming of today, pervy old man?"

Silvester straightened in his chair, trying to maintain some dignity.

"I’m still a teacher here, you know."

"Yeah, by god’s grace."

Silvester stared at him for a long moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. It was the kind of look that made people nervous. Cale took a step back instinctively.

"What are you staring at?"

"Why didn’t you come by this morning for more tasks?"

"I was training."

Silvester leaned back in his chair, studying him for a moment longer. Then a smirk spread across his face.

"Well, you seem to have grown a bit. I’ll trust you on that."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out thirty-three silver tokens, laying them out on the desk one by one. The metallic clinks filled the silence between them.

"With the speed you’re going, it won’t be easy to get your hands on that diluted beast blood."

Cale’s eyes widened slightly at the mention of it. Beast blood was valuable for anyone trying to progress past basic cultivation levels, especially him who had a bloodline superiority.

"Can’t you stop anyone from buying that bottle? Please. I need it."

"Why shouldn’t I give it to others? They’ll offer more points than you could ever manage."

He’s keeping it.

"I know you’ve stuffed it inside your pocket. You never planned to sell it."

Silvester’s expression flickered, surprise flashing across his features before he could mask it.

"How did you—no. You got it right. I’m not selling it."

Now I just need the right leverage.

"Not even for a bottle of Sula Brut Tropicale?"

His mouth watered at just saying the name. It was a wine, an incredibly rare one. Sixty years aged, that cost more than most people made in a year.

Silvester’s eyes went wide, his jaw clenched as he thought what Cale had just offered him.

"Really? You have that?"

"Yup. Sixty years brewed."

The teacher swallowed hard.

"Deal. I won’t sell it. But you still need to give me points or my job is gone."

Cale nodded in agreement.

"Okay. I’ll get you the points."

Silvester leaned back.

"So I heard you were beaten up again."

Cale turned to leave, but Silvester’s voice stopped him.

"Hey. Let’s have a chat."

What chat? He just wants to brag about his glory days and make fun of me.

He was already moving toward the door when Silvester spoke again with a serious tone.

"Don’t go to the eastern plains. Those people there... they might look calm, but all of them are battle hungry guys."

Cale paused mid-step, and then he turned back slightly to face the older man once more.

"Hmph. Exactly what I needed."

He left before Silvester could say anything else.

A minute later, sitting alone at his desk, Silvester sighed deeply.

My oh my. I had to lie about that blood just to keep the kid here and train a bit before he left. Kids like him will roar anywhere they go.

With actual money for the first time in a week, Cale made his way to the capital beyond the academy grounds.

The good side of the city was bustling—rich merchants hawking exotic goods, varieties of materials from distant lands, new discoveries every single day. It was the kind of place where you could lose yourself for hours just walking and looking.

But the capital had a dark side too, filled with slums, kidnappers, terrorists, and people desperate enough to sell their own children for coin.

While walking through the crowded streets, he spotted a senior from the academy talking to thugs in an alleyway.

He didn’t pay much attention to it since it wasn’t really his business to get involved.

Inside a small grocery and eatery shop, while he was picking through the fruit display, a commotion erupted from the back.

A man came through, dragging someone behind him. The second guy looked wounded, blood staining his clothes.

"Where is the fucking owner? Come out!"

Thugs. Again. This was becoming far too common.

The owner waddled out quickly, his fat belly wobbling noticeably with each step he took.

"Yes, sir, how can I help—"

"You! Do you have no heart? Did you poison the young master here? Whose order did you receive to poison his food?"

"That’s not possible, sir. We don’t do that kind of thing here."

"He started puking blood after ten minutes of eating your food! How can I not believe you poisoned him?"

The owner’s face went pale. He started begging.

"Sir, there must be some misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding? Hehe. Let’s see who the officials support with."

The owner suddenly shifted tactics, his desperation was showing clearly.

"Can’t we sort this with some... things?"

Cale started to move forward.

"Hey, you—"

But the owner suddenly grabbed his arm and pulled him back with strong grip.

"Shhhhh. Don’t argue with them."