Void Cultivation-Chapter 259-

Then, involuntarily, his thoughts shifted inward... toward himself.

After the failed possession attempt, his memories had grown even more fractured. What little he retained now came in broken fragments—fleeting flashes of places he did not fully recognize, emotions that felt both distant and intimately familiar, and moments that did not always feel as though they belonged to him.

Sometimes, when he replayed those memories in his mind, a disturbing thought would quietly surface.

Was that truly me?

Or was it someone else?

The fog within his sea of consciousness remained thick and suffocating. It was not mere forgetfulness. No — it felt deliberate. As though something, or someone, was actively obscuring the truth.

Whenever he tried to probe deeper, to force his way through the haze and seize clarity, the fog did not thin. If anything, it only grew denser. He could feel resistance — subtle, almost intelligent. The more he searched, the more the obscurity pressed back.

It was as if the truth itself refused to be seen.

And yet...

Unlike the captain, whose solemn demeanor stemmed from the burdens of her past...

Grey’s eyes slowly sharpened.

A decisive light flickered within them.

’Why should I fear my past?’ he thought coldly. ’What’s done is done. Whether I was a sinner, a tyrant, or something even worse... it changes nothing.’

His fingers curled slightly, nails pressing into his palm.

’What matters is what I become.’

Strength.

That was the key.

Only by becoming stronger would he gain the ability to disperse the fog clouding his memories. Only by standing high enough would he be able to look down upon whatever truths were buried within him.

Power was not merely a tool.

It was clarity.

It was freedom.

As for that mighty figure from his fragmented memories...

The one who had torn the heavens asunder with a single motion.

The one who had, if only briefly, forced even God to halt His blinding radiance.

Grey’s pupils narrowed.

Even recalling that scene sent a tremor through his consciousness. The sky had split like fragile parchment. The firmament itself had cracked under the weight of that being’s will. An overwhelming aura had dominated everything — proud, absolute, defiant.

’That person...’

He could not see the figure’s face clearly. The memory was distorted and fractured, like a reflection upon shattered glass. Each time he tried to focus, the image warped and blurred.

But the presence...

That overwhelming aura.

The defiance against heaven itself.

That much was undeniable.

’He is the reason behind all of this.’

Whether enemy, past self, or something else entirely...

That existence was tied to his fate.

A cold glint flashed through Grey’s eyes.

’If he stands in my way,’ he thought, his heart hardening, ’then he will become my greatest adversary.’

A grim expression settled over his features. But beneath that grimness was something far stronger than fear.

Refusal.

Unwillingness to bow.

And a burning resolve that refused to be extinguished.

No matter what the truth of his past was, no matter who that figure ultimately turned out to be, Grey would not allow himself to be controlled by it.

His future would not be dictated by shadows.

It would be forged by his own hands.

—

The captain, flying slightly ahead of him, sensed the subtle shift in Grey’s aura. Her eyes flickered with a sharp glint, though she did not turn back to look at him.

The air around them burned faintly red as she surged forward.

They continued through the skies at tremendous speed. The captain utilized the power of her three Spirit Fires to tear through the air like a blazing arrow. Flames trailed faintly behind her figure, distorting the space around her with sheer intensity.

Her presence alone forced the winds to part.

Meanwhile, Grey pushed his body to its absolute limit.

The inheritance of the Wind Monarch had fundamentally transformed his physique. Every fiber of his being resonated with the concept of speed. The air did not resist him — it embraced him. The winds curved around him, reducing drag, guiding his movements, amplifying his acceleration.

At full speed, he was already faster than most ordinary Foundation Establishment Realm cultivators.

But in the end...

He possessed only a single ball of Spirit Fire.

Not two.

Not three.

He could not hope to compare directly with the captain, whose three brilliant Spirit Fires burned like miniature suns within her dantian, radiating overwhelming power.

The gap between them was undeniable.

And yet—

Grey’s gaze hardened.

If raw cultivation was lacking, then he would compensate elsewhere.

He circulated his energy more violently, pushing his meridians to their limits. The acknowledgment he had received from the Wind Monarch began to resonate more intensely within him. A subtle wind current formed around his body, spiraling tighter, compressing, refining.

His speed increased once more.

The air beneath his feet condensed, forming invisible platforms that propelled him forward in bursts. His silhouette blurred, almost dissolving into the wind itself.

Gradually...

He began to keep pace.

However, a bright glint suddenly flashed across Grey’s eyes.

’I can go faster than this!’ he growled inwardly.

Without hesitation, he summoned everything within him, every strand of spiritual energy, every ounce of physical strength, and forcefully pushed his speed beyond its current limit.

In the next instant, all of Grey’s spirit perforations ignited.

They burned furiously, like countless tiny suns erupting within his body. Brilliant light burst from his pores, illuminating him from head to toe. His silhouette blurred violently as his speed spiked.

Then...

Muffled booming sounds echoed from deep within his flesh and bones.

His meridians trembled.

His muscles tightened to the brink of tearing.

Grey gritted his teeth and endured the searing pain spreading throughout his body. Veins bulged across his arms and neck as he focused entirely on accelerating.

Faster.

Even faster.

The captain watched him from the corner of her eye.

A faint smile tugged at her lips.

Without warning, she increased her speed again.

Her three Spirit Fires flared brilliantly, and she shot forward like a streak of blazing light. In mere breaths, she surpassed Grey and widened the distance between them, flying ahead at over three thousand feet.

Then, deliberately, she slowed down slightly, maintaining a constant gap between them.

A silent challenge.

Seeing her figure pulling away, Grey’s jaw clenched.

"You think this is my limit?" his gaze seemed to say.

He poured even more strength into his movement technique.

In his mind, something began to stir.

At first, it was nothing more than a blurry haze.

Then slowly... a shape began to form.

It resembled an inheritance.

More precisely...

The inheritance of the Wind Monarch.

From the very beginning, although Grey had been acknowledged by the Wind Monarch and his body had been blessed with extraordinary affinity for speed, he was not a true Scion. He was merely someone who had received recognition, a fortunate recipient of residual will.

A Scion was different.

To become one required more than talent.

It required obsession.

The way to becoming a Scion was to acknowledge the wind, not as a tool, not as a technique, but as a path. One had to yearn for speed above all else. To desire it beyond cultivation. Beyond power. Beyond even survival.

Few had ever thought to pursue such a path.

Many had devoted their entire lives to studying the wind. Some isolated themselves in high mountains. Others meditated in endless deserts where gales never ceased.

They all sought speed.

Yet none had been acknowledged.

The Wind Monarch did not recognize effort.

It recognized desire.

The only reason Grey had been acknowledged in the first place was because, on those mist-covered mountains in Green City, he had longed to run as freely as the wind itself. He had not sought power.

He had simply wanted to move.

Unbeknownst to him, that mountain range held a faint connection to the Wind Monarch’s lingering will.

And so, he had been noticed.

But now...

As the hazy inheritance slowly took clearer form within his mind, something was changing.

He was no longer merely acknowledged.

He was beginning to align.

The inheritance pulsed faintly, as though responding to his relentless push for speed.

Grey, however, remained unaware of this transformation.

He did not sense the inheritance forming.

He did not realize he was stepping onto the path of a Scion.

He only knew one thing:

He wanted to become stronger.

And in his heart, he instinctively understood that greater speed meant greater power.

Speed was not directly tied to cultivation.

Yet Grey felt that if he forced his body to its absolute limit through velocity, if he pushed himself to the brink of destruction, then his cultivation would be compelled to break through as well.

In that case, there was only one way.

The wind.

’Although the wind is invisible,’ Grey murmured inwardly, ’it is incredibly powerful. No matter how strong a cultivator is, if his body is not tempered enough, he will be torn apart by it.’

His eyes locked onto the captain’s back.

’The captain can endure such speeds because her body has grown stronger with each breakthrough. But what would happen if I matched her speed with my current physique?’

There was no hesitation.

He tried.

Instantly, muffled explosions erupted from within his body as he forced himself to accelerate violently.

His bones seemed to creak and his muscles were strained.

His internal organs felt as though they were being compressed by unseen pressure.

Minute after minute passed as he steadily closed the distance.

But the wind at such speed was no longer a gentle current.

It became a weapon.

The air transformed into countless invisible blades. It pressed against him with crushing force, resisting his every attempt to move faster.

Pain began to spread across his skin.

At this velocity, Grey could already sense the danger.

If he went any faster, his body would be ripped apart.

His eyes turned bloodshot but he pushed anyway.

The moment he did, a violent gale assaulted him head-on.

It felt as though thousands of knives were slashing across his body simultaneously. His skin split. Blood sprayed into the wind and was instantly scattered into blood mist that fused with the red mist that was in the sky.

Grey’s vision darkened and his body trembled.

Immediately, he reduced his speed slightly, allowing his body a brief moment to adapt.

Though the extreme velocity had only lasted a few breaths, the damage was severe. His clothes were already dyed red. Thin streams of blood ran along his arms and legs before being torn away by the wind.

Grey did not care.

With a grim expression, he circulated the power of the purple crystal within his heart. A faint violet glow pulsed beneath his skin as his wounds rapidly began to close. Flesh knitted together and cuts sealed.

All the pain he felt was dulled.

The moment his body was restored, he let out a low growl.

And burst forward again.

This time,

He unleashed his absolute maximum speed.

The world blurred into streaks of color.

The wind howled like a furious beast.

Again, countless invisible blades slashed at him. Fresh wounds opened instantly across his face and torso. Blood splattered outward, only to be shredded into mist.

Grey felt, with terrifying clarity, that if he accelerated even a fraction further, his body would truly be cut into pieces.

His face bore several deep cuts.

His entire body was soaked in blood.

Finally, he decelerated.

The moment he slowed, the overwhelming pressure eased.