[Ding!]
A soft chime echoed in Rykarion's head—clear, sudden, and unfamiliar.
He blinked.
Still pressed against Meyra, her body warm beneath him, her breath slowing to soft exhales. The torchlight flickered over their bare skin, but his focus had already shifted.
Another chime.
[Heavenly System Update: Milestone Achieved]
—"You have shared your body with a mortal for the first time since transmigration."
A faint glow pulsed across his vision. Like ripples on the surface of water, a transparent interface shimmered before him. Meyra stirred, half-asleep, unaware of the shift behind his golden eyes.
[New Subsystems Unlocked]
◉ Dual Cultivation Subsystem – Active
—As long as you share spiritual and physical union with another cultivator, both parties will gain a mutual cultivation increase.
—If your partner's cultivation level is higher, you will rise faster.
—If yours is higher, your partner will ascend at a rate matched to your output.
—All spiritual energy is refined through pleasure, resonance, and intent.
—Stronger connections yield greater breakthroughs.
—Can be activated voluntarily. Cannot be forced.
Rykarion's brows arched slightly.
He could feel it now. A soft hum in his core—his Qi subtly shifting, more refined, almost pulsing in rhythm with the steady thrum of Meyra's presence beside him.
And then the second update came.
◉ Harem System – Passive
—Any individual who willingly shares a bond with you through dual cultivation may be marked as a "Consort Candidate."
—Consort Candidates will receive passive buffs: faster healing, enhanced Qi regeneration, elemental resistance, and emotional affinity.
—Upon mutual acceptance, they become True Consorts, bound to your Harem System.
—True Consorts benefit from linked growth, exclusive skills, and shared spiritual domains during cultivation rituals.
—System can support multiple Consorts without limit.
Rykarion blinked once. Then again.
"...Harem system?" he muttered under his breath.
[Congratulations, Host.]
[You are now officially living the Dragon Life.]
The interface vanished, leaving only a faint flicker of golden script that dissolved like mist.
Rykarion exhaled.
Still lying beside him, Meyra stirred softly, stretching one arm over her eyes. "You're still awake?" she asked, voice groggy, voice a little hoarse from earlier.
"Yeah," he said, looking down at her.
Her skin glowed in the low light. She looked content… but spent. At ease in a way he hadn't expected. His chest rose slowly, then fell.
He smiled faintly.
"Something just changed," he said quietly.
She cracked one crimson eye open. "You?"
Rykarion turned his gaze back to the ceiling.
"…Everything."
Rykarion leaned back against the wall, the cold stone brushing his spine as the fire in the hearth crackled softly. The system's words still echoed in his head, pulsing like quiet thunder beneath his skin.
He smirked.
Three paths.
Three damn ways to climb the heavens.
Dual cultivation.
Combat cultivation.
And the old-fashioned way.
That wasn't balance.
That was a head start.
His golden eyes shimmered faintly in the dim light, reflecting the coals like molten glass. He glanced down at Meyra—curled up now, her hair tangled across the pillow, her breaths slow and steady. Her body had long given in to rest, but the heat between them hadn't fully left the room. It lingered, soft and thick like incense.
"Guess you really were a turning point, huh," he muttered under his breath, watching her sleep for a moment before shifting his gaze back to the ceiling.
He stretched his arm, fingers lazily trailing over the edge of the bed.
The smirk on his face grew wider.
"Kill strong cultivators, sleep with powerful women, and train when I feel like it..."
A quiet chuckle escaped his lips. "If that's not divine favoritism, I don't know what is."
The system didn't reply. It didn't need to.
Because deep down, he already knew.
He wasn't just playing catch-up in this world anymore.
He was ahead.
And soon—way ahead.
He closed his eyes for a second, feeling the energy settle in his core. His cultivation wasn't just stable—it had shifted. The foundation had thickened. The Qi ran cleaner. His vessel felt clearer.
A step closer.
Not just to power.
But to the throne at the very top.
The strongest being.
The apex.
He tilted his head slightly, silver hair brushing over one eye.
"All just a matter of time now," he whispered.
And in the silence of that flame-lit room, with the system quiet and Meyra fast asleep, Rykarion stared into the shadows—
—and started to plan who he would kill next.
Just as Rykarion closed his eyes, letting the weight of the day melt into the quiet, he heard it.
Knock.
Not loud.
Just firm.
Once.
Then silence.
His eyes opened, gold flashing faintly in the dim light. He turned his head slightly—Meyra was still asleep, half-covered by the sheet, her body rising and falling in rhythm with her breath. Peaceful.
He didn't want to wake her.
So he sighed, sat up, and reached for his robe, draping it lazily across his shoulders before stepping into his boots.
The wooden stairs creaked under his steps as he descended, the inn quiet now, the embers in the fireplace downstairs casting a faint orange hue across the room.
At the door… nothing.
No presence. No aura.
Just the faint night breeze slipping through the cracks.
But there, just on the floor, resting neatly at the center of the threshold—
—was a letter.
Rykarion frowned. Bent down and picked it up.
The paper was thick. High-quality. Stamped with dark silver ink, and sealed with a crescent thorn crest—Silverthorn Sect.
He broke it open without much care.
The words were written in steady, elegant brushstrokes. Formal. Measured.
---
> To the Honored Cultivator,
It has come to our attention that a conflict has arisen between yourself and one of our disciples—namely, Xuan Feng, son of the current Sect Master.
In light of this, and given your exceptional capabilities, the Silverthorn Sect extends an invitation to you as an Honorable Guest.
We believe misunderstandings should be resolved with civility, not chaos.
A personal meeting with Sect Master Xuan Lie has been arranged should you choose to attend. Escort will await you at dawn outside the Jade Petal Inn.
—Silverthorn Sect Administration
---
Rykarion blinked once. Then twice.
He stared at the signature like it was a joke.
"…So now it's tea and courtesy," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Funny how fast fear turns into formality."
He rolled the letter between his fingers.
It wasn't fear, though. Not really.
It was something else.
Caution. Calculation. Curiosity.
Rykarion let out a small chuckle, then tucked the letter into his robe and stepped outside onto the porch. The night air kissed his skin, cool and silent. A pair of guards passed by in the distance, chatting lazily, unaware that the man standing above them could burn the street down if he wanted.
He leaned on the railing, golden eyes staring at the stars above.
"Looks like morning's gonna be interesting."
Then he turned back into the inn, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.
And for the first time that night… he smiled.
Not because of the invitation.
But because—
this world was finally starting to play his game.