Ch8 Absolute Energy Barrier

Ryan settled into the center of the narrow platform bed and reopened the Cultivation Manual.

If he wanted access to his Talent, he first had to open Qi Point 001.

The instructions sounded simple when reduced to a few lines: sense the Esoteric Energy in the environment, draw it into his body, refine it through his core into X Energy, then circulate that energy toward the first Qi Point until the blockage opened.

Actually doing it was another matter.

Ryan crossed his legs, straightened his back, and closed his eyes.

He had already managed to sense Esoteric Energy once. The faint pressure surrounding him had disappeared the moment he'd reached for it, but now he knew what he was searching for.

The manual instructed him not to force the process. Beginners often failed because they imagined absorption as physically dragging energy into themselves. According to the text, the better approach was to synchronize his breathing with his core and allow the newly Awakened organ to perform the function it had been designed for.

Ryan inhaled slowly.

Held the breath.

Then exhaled.

His core pulsed beneath his sternum.

Again.

Inhale.

Hold.

Exhale.

He gradually stopped noticing the hard mattress beneath him or the distant hum of the orbital station. His awareness narrowed until only his breathing and the steady rhythm of his core remained.

Then he felt it.

That same strange pressure brushed against the edge of his senses.

This time Ryan didn't reach for it.

He simply breathed.

The sensation remained.

With his next inhale, something cool drifted into him alongside the air.

Ryan's brow furrowed.

There.

It wasn't oxygen.

The sensation moved through his lungs differently, passing through his respiratory tissue as though the boundaries of his body meant very little to it. The coolness spread into his chest before being drawn toward his core.

Ryan almost opened his eyes.

Instead, he maintained the breathing pattern.

Another breath brought more.

Then another.

What began as an almost imperceptible trickle gradually became easier to distinguish. Esoteric Energy existed everywhere around him, diffused throughout the station's atmosphere like an invisible ocean he'd spent his entire life unable to perceive.

His core drew that energy inward.

The moment the raw energy entered it, the sensation changed.

Cool became warm.

Diffuse became dense.

Ryan could feel the difference even without fully understanding it. Raw Esoteric Energy entered his core, and something more concentrated emerged from the other side before spreading into the pathways intertwined with his bloodstream.

X Energy.

So that's how it works.

His core wasn't merely a source of power.

It was a refinery.

Ryan continued breathing.

Minutes passed.

The lingering exhaustion from the Awakening gradually receded. The ache in his muscles softened, his headache disappeared, and the strange hollow sensation that had followed Captain Unkud's aura faded until his body felt almost completely restored.

Ryan had expected cultivation to be exhausting.

Instead, at least at this stage, it felt like drinking after being thirsty for hours.

He continued until a subtle pressure began building inside his circulation pathways. It wasn't painful, but instinct told him he'd reached some kind of limit.

A notification appeared behind his closed eyelids.

[ X ENERGY CAPACITY REACHED ]

Ryan opened his eyes.

He felt incredible.

Not overwhelmingly powerful, but refreshed in a way sleep had never managed. His thoughts were clearer, his breathing deeper, and every movement carried a subtle vitality that hadn't existed before his Awakening.

Then he remembered why he'd started.

"Qi Point One."

Ryan reopened the manual.

A translucent anatomical model appeared before him, highlighting the first point along an energy pathway beneath his core.

[ QI POINT 001 ]

[ BEGINNER OPENING PROCEDURE AVAILABLE ]

Ryan read the instructions carefully.

Unlike absorption, this part did require force.

Controlled force.

He closed his eyes again and focused inward until he found the warm current of X Energy circulating with his blood. Guiding it consciously was awkward at first. Every time he tried to push the energy directly, the current seemed to scatter.

Ryan frowned.

He tried again.

Instead of forcing the entire reservoir to move, he focused on a smaller portion and imagined directing it along the pathway shown in the manual.

Something shifted.

A thin stream of warmth moved through his chest.

Ryan's concentration sharpened.

"Okay."

He followed the pathway.

The X Energy traveled several centimeters before striking something.

Ryan's body jerked.

It wasn't a physical object, exactly. The blockage felt more like pressure meeting pressure, an invisible knot buried inside a part of himself he'd never known existed.

Qi Point 001.

Ryan gathered more X Energy.

Then pushed.

Pain flashed through his chest.

"Ah!"

His concentration broke.

The energy scattered.

Ryan opened his eyes and rubbed the spot.

"That would've been useful to mention."

A line appeared in the manual.

[ DISCOMFORT DURING INITIAL QI POINT OPENING IS NORMAL. ]

Ryan stared at it.

"Now you tell me."

He tried again.

This time he was ready for the pain.

He gathered X Energy, directed it along the pathway, and pressed it against the blockage.

The point resisted.

Ryan maintained the pressure.

His chest began to burn.

Sweat formed along his forehead.

The temptation to force everything into the blockage at once grew stronger, but the manual's warnings about ruptured pathways and internal hemorrhaging remained fresh in his mind.

So Ryan stayed patient.

Pressure.

Release.

Pressure again.

Each attempt weakened the resistance slightly.

This content has been misappropriated from NovelPhoenix; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

He lost track of time.

Then, during another push, something gave.

Ryan gasped.

A sharp sensation spread through his chest, followed by a sudden rush of warmth as the X Energy that had been accumulating behind the blockage surged through.

His entire body tingled.

For several seconds, Ryan simply sat there, breathing.

The pathway felt different.

Wider.

Clearer.

As though a door inside him had been opened for the first time.

A soft chime sounded.

[ QI POINT 001 OPENED ]

Ryan's exhaustion vanished beneath a surge of excitement.

Another notification appeared immediately.

[ INITIAL CULTIVATION MILESTONE ACHIEVED ]

[ TALENT ASSESSMENT UNLOCKED ]

Ryan grinned.

"Finally."

He didn't waste another second.

"Skynet, show me my Talent."

[ REQUEST STATUS DISPLAY. ]

Ryan frowned.

"You couldn't just—"

He stopped himself.

There was no point arguing with it.

"Skynet, status."

A translucent blue panel unfolded across his vision.

[ STATUS ]

Name: Ryan Lowell

Species: Human

Sex: Male

Cultivation Rank: Unranked

Qi Points: 1 / 360

Rank One Progress: 1 / 40

Talent: Absolute Energy Barrier

Strength: 7

Constitution: 7

Dexterity: 8

Speed: 7

Mental Energy: 8 / 8

X Energy: 9 / 9

Skills: None

Unique Skills: None

Ryan's eyes immediately locked onto one line.

Absolute Energy Barrier.

He reread it.

Then again.

"So I'm defensive."

A flicker of disappointment surfaced before he could stop it.

Ryan had spent years watching combat streamers tear monsters apart. Firestorms, gravity attacks, shadow blades, lightning, impossible physical transformations—those were the abilities that dominated highlight reels.

Nobody clipped a stream because someone stood behind a wall particularly well.

He'd imagined discovering some destructive Talent that would let him charge into battle and overwhelm whatever stood in front of him.

Instead, he had a shield.

Then Ryan remembered the assembly chamber.

Bodies on the floor.

Jessica describing the boy who had died beside her.

His disappointment faded almost immediately.

Maybe surviving wasn't as flashy as destroying something.

It was still important.

And one word continued bothering him.

Absolute.

Ryan leaned closer to the display.

That didn't sound weak.

"Skynet, explain Absolute Energy Barrier."

[ DETAILED TALENT DATA UNAVAILABLE. TALENT FUNCTION MUST BE DEVELOPED THROUGH USER DISCOVERY AND MASTERY. ]

Ryan frowned.

"So you're not going to tell me what it does?"

[ BASIC FUNCTION MAY BE DETERMINED THROUGH ACTIVATION. ]

"How do I activate it?"

[ FOCUS AND ATTEMPT ACTIVATION. TALENTS ARE NOT GRANTED AS LEARNED SKILLS. THEY ARE UNLOCKED CAPABILITIES THAT MUST BE DEVELOPED THROUGH USE. ]

Ryan considered that.

The Awakening hadn't downloaded instructions into his head. It had simply made something possible that hadn't been possible before.

Now he had to figure out the rest.

Ryan climbed off the bed.

There wasn't much open space in the room, but there was enough between the bed and the opposite wall.

He extended his right arm.

"Barrier."

Nothing happened.

Ryan stared at his hand.

"Good start."

He tried again, this time focusing on the core beneath his sternum.

He could feel X Energy circulating through the newly opened pathway. Ryan imagined drawing some of that energy upward, through his shoulder and down his arm.

Warmth followed his intention.

His eyes widened.

The energy reached his palm.

Ryan pictured a wall.

Something solid.

Something nothing could pass through.

The warmth left his hand.

Tiny sapphire particles appeared in the air.

Ryan held his breath.

The particles multiplied, weaving together into threads of blue light. Those threads intersected and connected, creating a geometric lattice suspended several inches beyond his palm.

More energy flowed from his body.

The lattice thickened.

Two seconds later, the light condensed.

A translucent blue barrier hovered in front of him.

Ryan's mouth fell open.

It was roughly the size of his torso, rectangular and almost perfectly transparent except for the faint sapphire glow around its edges. The surface resembled polished glass, though subtle geometric patterns moved deep inside it.

A low hum filled the room.

Ryan slowly lowered his hand.

The barrier remained.

"No way."

He stepped closer.

Ryan reached out with his left hand and touched it.

Cold.

Smooth.

Completely solid.

He pressed harder.

Nothing.

Ryan put both hands against the barrier and shoved.

It didn't move.

His grin widened.

"Okay. That's actually pretty cool."

Then the room tilted.

Ryan stumbled backward.

His vision blurred.

A hollow ache pulsed through his core, and the barrier dissolved into thousands of fading blue particles.

Ryan grabbed the bed frame.

"Whoa."

He waited for the dizziness to pass.

Then he looked at his wrist.

"Skynet, status."

The interface appeared.

Mental Energy: 8 / 8

X Energy: 5 / 9

Ryan stared.

"Four?"

He'd used almost half of his entire X Energy reserve creating one barrier.

Ryan straightened slowly.

"That's terrible."

In a real fight, two full-strength barriers would nearly empty him. If the third attempt failed because he lacked enough energy, he'd be standing in front of an enemy with nothing except optimism and a locked gun.

Ryan dismissed the status display and stared at the empty space where the barrier had been.

Something determined settled over him.

There had to be more to it.

"What determines the cost?"

Size seemed like the obvious answer.

Maybe thickness.

Distance.

Duration.

Possibly all of them.

Ryan lifted one hand again.

This time he didn't imagine a wall.

He pictured a disc no larger than a dinner plate.

X Energy flowed.

Sapphire particles gathered.

The lattice formed.

Two seconds later—

Hum.

A circular barrier appeared in front of his hand.

Ryan checked his status.

The drain was dramatically smaller.

He smiled.

"Size matters."

That was useful.

Unfortunately, the small disc covered almost nothing.

Ryan moved it in front of his face.

Then his chest.

Then his stomach.

Protecting one area exposed another.

Against a knife or a precisely aimed projectile, maybe that could work. Against a sweeping blade, explosion, or multiple attackers, a dinner plate wasn't going to save him.

Still, he'd learned something.

Ryan dismissed the barrier and began experimenting.

The next few hours passed faster than he expected.

He cultivated until his X Energy reserve recovered, then spent it again.

Each cycle taught him something new.

He could change the shape.

Circular barriers were possible.

Rectangles were easier.

Curved surfaces took considerably more concentration, but they worked.

Distance mattered too.

Creating a barrier several meters away was possible, though the farther from his body he tried to form it, the harder it became to maintain the exact position during construction.

The biggest problem was activation speed.

No matter what Ryan tried, the process took roughly two seconds.

Intent.

Energy movement.

Particle formation.

Lattice construction.

Solidification.

Two seconds.

Ryan tried shortening the sequence through sheer concentration.

It didn't work.

He tried pushing more X Energy into the formation.

That only wasted energy.

He tried imagining the completed barrier instead of the construction process.

Still two seconds.

Ryan sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the latest shield hovering in front of him.

"Two seconds."

In everyday life, that was nothing.

In combat, it was forever.

If an enemy swung a sword at his neck, he couldn't wait until the blade was coming before creating a barrier. By the time the shield solidified, his head would already be somewhere else.

That changed everything.

His Talent wasn't a panic button.

At least not yet.

He would need to anticipate attacks.

Read movement.

Predict trajectories.

Place barriers before the attack arrived.

Ryan imagined an enemy charging him.

If he could recognize the attack early enough, he could place a shield along its path.

But real fights wouldn't happen one strike at a time. Enemies would move. Feint. Attack from different directions.

Trying to predict every blow perfectly was unrealistic.

There had to be another solution.

Ryan stared at the barrier.

Then a thought occurred to him.

"What if I don't dismiss you?"

He waited.

The barrier continued hovering.

Ryan checked his status.

X Energy: 5 / 9

He waited another minute.

Still five.

Ryan's eyebrows rose.

He stood.

"Interesting."

He moved to the side and imagined the barrier following him.

The shield slid through the air.

His X Energy didn't change.

Ryan checked another number.

Mental Energy: 7.9 / 8

His eyes narrowed.

He continued moving the barrier.

The X Energy remained stable while his Mental Energy decreased almost imperceptibly.

A grin slowly spread across his face.

Creating the barrier required X Energy.

Maintaining it didn't.

Once fully formed, the barrier appeared to remain stable without continuously draining his core. Moving and controlling it consumed Mental Energy instead, but at a rate so low that Ryan could barely measure it over short periods.

That completely changed the problem.

He didn't need to summon a barrier after an enemy attacked.

He could summon one before the fight started.

Ryan walked around the cramped room while the translucent shield floated beside him.

He moved it in front.

Behind.

Above his head.

Back to his left side.

The response wasn't instantaneous, but it was far faster than creating a new barrier.

Ryan smiled wider.

"Now we're getting somewhere."

He tested another possibility.

"Stay."

Ryan released his mental control.

The barrier remained exactly where he'd left it.

His Mental Energy stopped decreasing.

Ryan stared.

It wasn't merely a shield.

It was an object he could place.

That opened possibilities.

Block a doorway.

Seal a corridor.

Create cover.

Divide enemies.

Protect someone else.

Trap something between barriers if he eventually had enough X Energy to create several.

Ryan's initial disappointment now felt embarrassingly premature.

He still didn't know what Absolute meant, but the Talent clearly had more potential than he'd assumed.

The problem was capacity.

Nine X Energy was almost nothing.

And the answer to that problem was cultivation.

Ryan looked at his status.

Qi Points: 1 / 360

One point had been enough to unlock his Talent.

What would ten do?

Forty?

A hundred?

Ryan dismissed the barrier and returned to the bed.

He should have been exhausted.

Instead, his mind was racing.

Tomorrow he would be sent to another planet, and for the first time since Captain Unkud announced it, Ryan felt slightly less unprepared.

Not ready.

Definitely not powerful.

But no longer completely blind.

He closed his eyes and resumed the breathing sequence.

There was still time before morning.

And if he could open another Qi Point before deployment, he wasn't going to waste it.

Far above the residential sectors, Captain Unkud sat alone inside an office carved into the orbital station's command tower.

Streams of information floated above a slab of polished black alloy in front of him. Recruitment statistics, biological reports, Awakening results, and casualty figures moved across the displays as he reviewed the final numbers.

Thousands of human records were marked red.

Dead.

Unkud barely paused over them.

He had expected worse.

The pressure test had removed many of the obviously unsuitable candidates before Awakening began, which had kept the mortality rate within acceptable limits. Even so, the humans remained remarkably fragile compared with Zorvak juveniles of equivalent developmental age.

A tone sounded.

The displays vanished.

Golden text appeared before him.

[ PRIORITY COMMUNICATION ]

[ PRINCE VORASH ]

Unkud immediately straightened.

"Accept."

Blue light gathered on the opposite side of the desk.

A holographic figure materialized.

Prince Vorash.

Even through a projection, the resemblance to Lord Vorthan was unmistakable.

The prince possessed the same towering Zorvak frame and dark scales, though he was younger and somewhat leaner than his father. Ornate imperial armor covered his body, its black plates trimmed with gold and engraved with symbols denoting his royal bloodline.

Where Lord Vorthan carried the oppressive stillness of someone accustomed to unquestioned authority, Vorash possessed something more restless.

There was aggression in the way he stood.

A contained violence that seemed perpetually one insult away from being unleashed.

Unkud rose and placed a clawed fist against his chest.

"Your Highness."

"Report."

Vorash wasted no time.

"How did the humans perform?"

"Within acceptable parameters. The initial aura screening removed the weakest candidates before Awakening. Of those who proceeded, approximately three percent died during the transformation."

Vorash's amber eyes moved toward the casualty statistics.

"Three percent."

"Yes, my prince."

"And the survivors?"

"Most stabilized successfully. Several demonstrated better-than-expected resistance to my aura."

That earned the faintest sign of interest.

"How much pressure?"

"Half."

Vorash looked back at him.

"Half?"

"Approximately."

The prince's mouth curved slightly.

"Perhaps they're not entirely useless."

Unkud remained silent.

Vorash moved around the holographic projection as though physically occupying the room.

"What are your plans for tomorrow?"

"I have prepared the standard training zones. Several Class-One wilderness worlds have suitable environments for new Awakened. Low-level fauna, stable Esoteric density, controlled extraction access—"

"No."

Unkud paused.

Vorash's expression had hardened.

"My prince?"

"Do not send them to beginner worlds."

Unkud studied him carefully.

"What alternative do you propose?"

"The frontier."

Silence followed.

Unkud's claws rested against the desk.

"Your Highness, most of these humans opened their first Qi Point only hours ago. Some have yet to do even that."

"Then they should learn quickly."

"Class-Three frontier worlds contain predators capable of killing Rank-One cultivators."

Vorash's smile widened.

"Then they'll have motivation."

Unkud didn't share his amusement.

"Your survival requirement remains in effect."

The smile faded slightly.

Unkud continued.

"If more than half of your assigned intake dies before the end of the trial year, High Command will classify your oversight as a failure."

"I remember the conditions my father imposed on me, Captain."

Unkud bowed his head.

"Of course."

Vorash turned away.

"I am not ordering you to slaughter them."

He clasped his hands behind his back.

"Give them equipment. Objectives. Information sufficient to keep the intelligent ones alive. Establish extraction zones if necessary."

His amber eyes returned to Unkud.

"But I will not waste a year watching humans kill harmless wildlife on some domesticated moon."

Unkud considered the order.

"The mortality rate will rise."

"Then monitor it."

"It may rise significantly."

Vorash's claws flexed.

"Then ensure it does not reach fifty percent."

There it was.

The contradiction at the heart of the prince's assignment.

Push them hard enough to become strong.

Keep enough alive to satisfy Lord Vorthan's conditions.

And somehow produce a squad capable of reaching the top ten.

Unkud inclined his head.

"It will be done."

Vorash's expression remained sour.

"My siblings already expect me to fail."

Unkud looked up.

The prince paced slowly.

"They know what happens if I do. Another cycle wasted here, supervising another batch while they continue building influence within the inner territories."

His claws tightened behind his back.

"I would not put it past some of them to interfere."

"Directly?"

"They aren't stupid enough for that."

Vorash's lip curled.

"But accidents happen on frontier worlds. Mercenary groups wander into restricted territories. Predators migrate unexpectedly. Teleportation coordinates become compromised."

Unkud understood.

Royal politics.

Zorvak succession rarely remained peaceful for long.

"If an unusual mortality pattern develops," Unkud said, "I will investigate immediately."

"Do more than investigate."

Vorash looked directly at him.

"Protect my investment."

Unkud lowered his head.

"Yes, Your Highness."

The prince's attention shifted toward the human records floating beside him.

"Use Skynet aggressively. The system can direct their development far more efficiently than instructors."

"Mission assignments?"

"Exactly. Survival objectives. Bounties. Resource acquisition. Combat targets. Reward useful behavior."

"X Energy crystals?"

"Among other things."

Vorash reached toward one of the holographic human profiles, though his claw passed through it.

"Humans are wonderfully predictable when offered rewards. Give them something they want, place danger between them and it, and they'll usually convince themselves entering the danger was their own idea."

Unkud couldn't disagree.

"Prioritize those who distinguish themselves," Vorash continued. "Better missions. Better rewards. More difficult targets."

"And the weaker candidates?"

"Give them enough opportunity to improve."

Vorash paused.

"If they refuse to improve, they become irrelevant."

Unkud nodded.

"What of your top-ten requirement?"

At that, the prince smiled.

"That's what interests me."

He enlarged the recruitment database.

Thousands upon thousands of profiles filled the space between them.

"Somewhere inside this mass of soft flesh is at least one squad capable of becoming useful."

Vorash dismissed the profiles.

"Find them."

"And once we do?"

"If a group survives the frontier for a full year and demonstrates exceptional development, I will take personal control of their advanced training."

Unkud's brow shifted slightly.

That was more attention than he'd expected the prince to offer humans.

Vorash noticed.

"Do not misunderstand me, Captain. I have no affection for them."

"I would never suggest otherwise."

"I require results."

The prince's amber eyes gleamed.

"If one of these human squads reaches the top ten, my father gets his proof that I can manage lesser forces, and I leave this tedious assignment behind."

A sharp smile exposed his teeth.

"Until then, they're insects in a box."

He turned away.

"Shake the box."

Unkud placed his fist against his chest.

"It shall be done."

The projection vanished.

For several moments, Captain Unkud remained motionless.

Then he sat.

The standard deployment map reappeared.

Dozens of Class-One training worlds glowed green.

Safe.

Controlled.

Predictable.

Unkud swept them aside.

A second map opened.

This one contained far more red.

Frontier worlds.

Hostile environments.

Unstable territories.

Predator populations.

Contested regions where the Exclipse maintained only limited control.

Unkud studied them carefully.

Prince Vorash wanted danger.

Lord Vorthan demanded survival.

Captain Unkud had been given the unpleasant responsibility of balancing both.

He selected the first world.

Then another.

And another.

Across the orbital station, teleportation coordinates quietly began to change.

Millions of sleeping cadets had no idea that the training worlds originally prepared for them were being removed from their deployment schedules.

By morning, they wouldn't be going somewhere designed to teach them safely.

They were going to the frontier.