Chapter 5: Transcendent Object

Gao De sat cross-legged on the bed, recalling the memory.

He kept his chin parallel to the floor, closed his eyes, straightened his back, placed his hands on his knees, palms upward, fingers relaxed.

In this seated posture, the entire body felt deeply comfortable and relaxed, making it easier to enter a state of stillness.

Of course, for seasoned mages, entering a state of stillness to begin cultivation was effortless in nearly any posture or environment, requiring no such “aids.”

But Gao De was still a novice among novices, so he strictly followed the procedure.

After several minutes of deep breathing, Gao De finally entered the state; in his consciousness, he now seemed to be floating within a dark universe.

Countless stardust drifted aimlessly through this universe, beautiful and enchanting, emitting faint starlight.

This was the magic that permeated the world—the foundational force of existence.

It was abundant, powerful, and endless.

The so-called guidance technique involved using one’s mental force to guide this magic into the body and refine it into magical energy.

Gao De began attempting to guide the magical stardust with his mental force.

The magic, under the control of his mind and intent, entered his body through the breath drawn in, then descended steadily until it reached the position of his navel, where it finally settled.

This was not the end; once he sensed the magical stardust had stabilized, he still needed to manipulate his mind and intent, rhythmically polishing the magic with each breath until it transformed into his own magical energy.

The entire process, honestly, was not very efficient.

Because the guidance method and meditation technique Gao De practiced shared a unified name—Novice Guidance Method and Novice Meditation Technique.

As the name implied, these were cultivation methods exclusively for mage apprentices, the most fundamental of all, with the drawback of being basic—and the advantage of being perfectly basic, ideal for laying a foundation, though efficiency was inevitably low.

Gao De immersed himself in his first cultivation session until he began to feel fatigue, and the efficiency of guiding the magical stardust had dropped by about thirty percent, at which point he stopped.

He knew his mental force had reached the critical threshold of forty percent depletion; it was time to switch to meditation practice.

Gao De readjusted his posture, steadied his breathing for a moment, closed his eyes as required by the Novice Meditation Technique, and began his meditation practice.

Meditation practice resembled the visualization techniques often described in Qianshi Buddhism—constructing peculiar, mystical objects in the mind to strengthen mental force.

The Novice Meditation Technique manifested a sixteen-petaled lotus; the number of petals visualized correlated directly with cultivation progress.

Once all sixteen petals could be fully manifested, the Novice Meditation Technique would be considered perfected.

But Gao De’s current progress was still far from perfection.

If he remembered correctly, the original body had barely managed to manifest five petals so far, and that was only because the original body’s mental force talent was exceptionally strong.

This progress was already impressive; among apprentices who started with Gao De—or even earlier—most could still only manifest one or two petals.

As his mind sank deeper, Gao De clearly perceived the presence of his mental force.

In the boundless darkness of his consciousness, a lotus slowly rotated, existing within his mind.

Yet this flower had no physical form—it was merely a silhouette drawn by faint lines.

The goal of meditation practice was to use mental force to fill in these lines, fully manifesting the true lotus.

Gao De was about to begin manifesting the lotus as he remembered, when suddenly he sensed something new deep within his consciousness, glowing faintly.

Instinctively, he shifted his mental force and attention toward that glowing point.

Deep within the space of consciousness, darkness remained.

But alongside it floated countless irregularly drifting starlets, and two sets of starlet-formed structures resembling galaxies—yet actually fixed magical models.

These were the two cantrips Gao De had mastered.

Overall, the deep consciousness space resembled a sea of stars.

Hence, it was also called the Spell Star Sea.

Yet today, something new had appeared in the Spell Star Sea besides the starlets and magical models.

Something that should not exist.

It was a “crescent moon.”

It hung motionless at the very center of the Spell Star Sea, radiating a pure, luminous glow.

More accurately, it was a crescent-shaped gem.

Its shape resembled a hook jade—broad and rounded at the top, narrow and pointed at the bottom—entirely white, not milky, but the pure white of the moon.

The gem was crystal-clear, free of any impurity, its surface adorned with intricate, beautiful patterns and designs resembling strange symbols.

Yes, grown—not engraved.

There was not a single trace of craftsmanship; the patterns and designs were fused with the gem, naturally formed. Gao De stared, stunned, at this crescent gem embedded in his mind, unable to believe it.

“Isn’t this the pendant I’ve worn around my neck all these years?”

It was the family heirloom of the Gao family, strung into a pendant by his father and passed down to him.

Gao De had worn this pendant for over a decade and never noticed anything unusual about it.

But now, this object that did not belong to this world had followed him across into this world.

And it had transformed from a physical object into a phantom, rooted deep within his Spell Star Sea.

If crossing worlds had already happened, having a gem in his head seemed hardly unbelievable.

But why this particular gem?

That meant it must have some special quality.

Gao De forced himself to remain calm and recalled all he knew about the gem.

He realized his father had given him no detailed account of its origin when he passed it down.

Gao De only knew the gem was undoubtedly valuable, certainly not a crafted item made from agate or talc—it was a natural gemstone.

Because it was too exquisite, too perfect to be man-made.

Only nature’s divine craftsmanship could have forged such an artifact.

Gao De studied it carefully for a long time but found no anomaly.

“An extremely rare transcendent object,” he judged, based on his understanding of this world, “and the fact that it followed me across worlds alone proves its rank is certainly high.”

Gao De cautiously extended his mental force toward the crescent gem.

This was the most common method he recalled for activating “transcendent objects.”

He tried to trigger the “transcendent object” to learn its function.

But the moment his mental force touched the gem, it met a wall—immediately rebounding back.

Gao De thought for a moment, then stopped being cautious; he summoned all his mental force and tried again to activate “it.”

Once, twice, three times—until he felt slight fatigue, the crescent remained motionless, unchanged, unmoved, “unresponsive.”

He was greatly alarmed.

At first, he thought he’d simply been too cautious and failed to activate the artifact, but now he had given everything—and still failed.

Gao De examined the gem again, searching for some hidden mechanism.

The result remained nothing.

Now Gao De was troubled: a foreign object had taken root in his mind, and he had no idea what it did—who could accept that?

But the problem was, this thing had settled into his skull like a stubborn squatter; his mental force couldn’t budge it an inch, couldn’t even drive it out.

No matter how unwilling he was, he could change nothing.

“Most likely, it’s because my mental force is too weak to activate or move it,” Gao De speculated.

“Forget it.” Having no other option, Gao De finally gave up.

At least he could confirm this mysterious gem that had crossed worlds with him posed no harm to his body.

That was enough.

So Gao De withdrew his attention from the gem, spent a moment calming himself, and re-entered his meditation practice.

The lotus formed of faint lines in his consciousness gradually solidified.

The lotus pedestal became tangible; five petals were slowly manifested—nearly two hours passed.

Gao De opened his eyes.

A deep weariness rose within him.

The mental force depleted by the guidance technique had been restored through meditation, but restored mental force did not eliminate fatigue.

On the contrary, according to the original body’s memories, the best results came from sleeping well after practicing meditation.

Amy had finished earlier and was already asleep, emitting soft snores.

Gao De quietly removed his outer garments, lay down on the bed, and recalled everything he had seen and heard since arriving in this world, pondering how he might escape—and more. (End of Chapter)