CHAPTER 85: CHAPTER 84 AND 85: THE WORLD OF MARTIAL INTENT

The cold, damp air of the forest was the first thing Elias truly registered. He lay on a bed of soft, unfamiliar moss, the scent of petrichor and ancient earth filling his nostrils. The last thing he remembered was the agonizing tear of reality, the ship dissolving, the crushing weight of an unknown force. He felt the firm impact of the ground beneath him, the subtle give of the earth under his neutronium bones. His body was a fortress of cosmic engineering, but the vast, swirling galaxy of his power core was a dead space, a silent, empty shell. His laws were muted, like a whisper lost in a roaring crowd.

Kaelen stirred beside him, her hand brushing against his. He felt her touch, a grounding anchor in the chaos. Her breathing was deep and even, a testament to her incredible resilience. Elias sat up, the motion fluid despite the deep exhaustion that settled in his bones. His muscles, woven with quantum-fiber tendons, felt strong. He was physically a god, but spiritually, he was a child.

"You feel it, too, don’t you?" Kaelen’s voice was a soft rasp. She was sitting up now, her eyes already scanning the unfamiliar trees. Her expression was weary, but not panicked.

"The suppression," Elias confirmed, his voice low. "Our cultivation is gone. Our Laws are ineffective." He took her hand and helped her to her feet. "But our bodies remain. Our physical forms and quantum abilities are an absolute constant. They cannot be altered or suppressed. Our strength is still there, but our power is not."

Kaelen nodded, a faint smile on her face. "So we’re still ridiculously strong, we just can’t shoot lasers from our eyes anymore. Good to know."

Elias’s mind raced. The agony of the forced scan was a fresh memory, and the immense data dump from that fleeting moment was still sorting itself out in his consciousness. He knew the name of this place, the rules it operated on, the laws that governed its existence. This was a pocket universe whose unique suppression field targeted cultivation and the application of universal laws. But he figured something out, his quantum abilities were different. They weren’t laws he applied; they were an intrinsic part of his being. His quantum-fiber tendons and neutronium bones were physical constants. His Quantum Divine Sense, a quantum-level sensory ability, could not be suppressed, only diminished, to a hundred-meter pulse area.

The problem, as he saw it, was energy. His quantum abilities were powerful, but they required a massive amount of energy to utilize. Without his power core, he was like a planet-destroying cannon with no ammunition. The energy of this universe, a form of spiritual energy called Martial Qi, was fundamentally different from what he was used to. It was a purified energy, generated by fusing blood vitality, muscle will, and combat intent. It was a path he had to learn to walk.

"I know what happened," Elias said, the certainty in his voice a stark contrast to his situation. "And I know where we are. We are in a pocket universe governed by Martial Laws." He paused, looking at her with a flicker of genuine concern. "We have to learn to cultivate their energy to get ours back. The good news is, I have a complete understanding of their cultivation path. The bad news is, it’s a path different from logical laws, and it will be slow at first, but I believe I will be able to understand it with enough practice."

"Slow at first? What does that even mean?" Kaelen asked, her brow furrowed. "You learn at a speed that breaks reality. How is this different?"

Elias sat down on a mossy log, motioning for Kaelen to join him. "Because my ability to apply cultivation is based on pure, logical comprehension. I understand the mechanics of Martial Qi—the process of fusing blood vitality, muscle will, and combat intent with the ambient Qi in this universe to create a new, powerful energy. But I have a fundamental problem with each of those components."

"What kind of problems?"

"First, blood vitality. My blood cells are mini-dantians, each one a miniature power core. To use them for basic blood vitality cultivation is like using a hyper-advanced starship to transport a single grain of sand. It’s wildly inefficient, and I don’t know how to consciously suppress their function to learn from the ground up. The same applies to muscle will. I have perfect, quantum-level control over my body, down to every single atom. The concept of ’willing’ a muscle to move in a certain way is... foreign to me. My body moves because I command it to, not because I have a ’will’ to do so."

Kaelen listened intently, her scientific mind picking apart the problem with him. "And combat intent?"

Elias’s face was unreadable, but a faint frustration was evident in the way he clenched his fists. "I don’t know how to fight. Not truly. My mind contains countless fighting simulations, the data from every combat scenario in my home universe. My subconsciousness has been programmed to be the perfect warrior, but that’s what it is—a program. I’ve never had to fight for my life, feel fear, or experience the rush of battle. I’ve never generated combat intent. That is the one aspect of cultivation here that I must learn from scratch, from the very beginning."

Kaelen placed a hand on his arm. "So your body is a perfect machine, but your mind has never had to learn how to be a warrior. It’s a flaw in your programming." A slight smile touched her lips. "I, on the other hand, have plenty of will and intent. I think I’ll be able to learn a little faster than you."

"Likely," Elias conceded. "But I have a shortcut."

"A shortcut? How?"

"The local cultivators comprehend the laws of their universe by mixing them with Martial Qi. But their laws are a simple, corrupted form of the universal laws I already know. I don’t need to learn their laws. I just need to learn how to create their energy." Elias’s eyes, usually a void of pure analysis, held a flicker of excitement. "My existing laws are absolute; they cannot be mixed with anything. But if I learn how to generate combat intent, I can create Martial Qi, and then I can mix that Martial Qi with my existing laws. It’s not a true fusion, but an overlay. It will be a new form of power entirely—a Martial Law based on my universal laws, but fueled by the intent-driven energy of this world. It’s the logical path forward. But it all starts with learning how to fight."

Kaelen’s eyes gleamed with understanding. "So, you just have to learn how to be human. How to feel."

"Exactly," Elias said. "So, let’s go. My scan revealed a town to the east. We need a place to settle down and begin this long journey."

They set off, walking for hours. The forest was lush and beautiful, and their superhuman endurance allowed them to cover an immense distance without fatigue. They didn’t speak much, their minds processing the gravity of their situation.

They crested a small hill and saw it—a small, bustling town nestled in a valley. A perfect place to begin. As they neared the town, however, the air grew thick with the smell of iron and the low hum of battle. They moved with silent, practiced ease through the trees, their steps light and unseen.

What they saw was a clash of two very different groups. In a clearing, a handful of cultivators in crimson robes, their faces etched with desperation, were fighting a losing battle. They were clearly from a sect, their movements fluid and practiced, but they were outmatched. Against them were a half-dozen men cloaked in black, their eyes burning with a dark, twisted energy. Demonic cultivators.(Elias scanned the universe so he knows what a demonic cultivator looks like.)

The leader of the crimson-robed sect, an older man with a gray beard and a powerful aura, was on the defensive, his sword flashing in the light. "You fiends!" he roared, "You will not desecrate these lands!"

The leader of the demonic cultivators, a hulking man with a cruel smile, laughed. "Old fool! Your sect is weak. You will die here, and your lands will belong to us!" He raised a hand toward the elder, a look of pure malevolent intent on his face. He didn’t use a flashy spell or a complicated technique. He simply focused his will, his entire body tensing with a fierce, burning Martial Intent

.

The elder, seeing the attack coming, tried to leap away, but a demonic cultivator behind him blocked his path, forcing him to stay put. The old man, his eyes wide with terror, threw up his sword to defend. The demonic cultivator’s punch missed the elder by mere inches, but the sheer force of it was still a storm. The air crackled with a palpable pressure, a physical manifestation of the demonic cultivator’s destructive intent. The punch landed on the boulder behind him, and the entire mass of rock didn’t just break; it exploded, shattering into a million tiny fragments that flew in every direction. The sect disciples were thrown back by the force of the blast.

Elias’s mind, despite the danger, was captivated. He saw the logic in it—not the brute force of a physical punch, but the focused, concentrated intent to destroy, channeled through the body’s energy. It was a non-linear approach to the Law of Force, a beautifully brutal and elegant solution to a problem he had always solved with pure physics. It was a path he could not yet walk, but he understood its logic.

The demonic leader turned his cruel smile to the young girl among the sect cultivators, a look of pure malevolent intent in his eyes. He prepared to strike again, and the girl screamed in terror.

"We have to help them," Kaelen said, her voice filled with a fierce determination. She already had her fists clenched, her body tensing for a fight.

"Agreed," Elias said, his voice calm. "I don’t like bullies."

The demonic leader raised his fist to strike, a cruel smile etched on his face as he looked at the terrified sect disciples. He didn’t see the two figures slowly moving through the trees. He didn’t see Elias until it was too late.

Elias simply walked into the clearing. He didn’t rush or use any fancy footwork. He just walked, a perfect automaton of cosmic power, a monument of calm in a storm of violence. His presence was an immediate and profound shock. The demonic cultivators paused in their assault, their eyes widening in disbelief at this stranger who had appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

"Who are you?" the demonic leader snarled, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Get out of here before I send you to hell with these dogs."

Elias didn’t respond with words. He simply raised his hand, a motion as simple and unassuming as a man reaching for a cup of tea. He aimed his palm at the cluster of six demonic cultivators, a silent vortex of compressed air forming at his fingertips. It wasn’t an incantation, or a spell, or a martial technique. It was a perfect, logical application of physics. A simple, devastating truth of the universe, applied with the cold, precise force of a god.

The compressed air, moving at an impossible speed, slammed into the six demonic cultivators. It wasn’t a visible attack, not a flashy energy blast or a beam of light. It was a perfectly targeted, perfectly executed kinetic strike. The demonic cultivators, all of them veterans of countless battles and masters of their martial path, didn’t even have time to react.

Their bodies, tempered by dark magic and hardened by years of cultivation, simply exploded. Their heads, their chests, their limbs—it was as if a cosmic hammer had struck them from the outside. There was a series of wet, gruesome pops, and their bodies were reduced to a fine mist of blood, bone, and tissue. Their life force, their Martial Qi, was instantly extinguished, leaving no trace behind. The grotesque display was over in a heartbeat, and the only sound was the sickening splat of their remains hitting the ground.

The sect cultivators, who had been on the verge of annihilation, stared in stunned silence. They had been prepared to die, to face a glorious defeat at the hands of the demonic fiends. But in a single, terrifying instant, a stranger had ended the battle without a scratch, without a sound, without even a visible attack. The air was thick with the scent of blood and ozone, but the battlefield was silent.

Kaelen stood on the sidelines, her fists still clenched. She had been ready to fight, to protect, to be the warrior she knew she was. But Elias had not needed her. She was a fighter, but he was a force of nature. She looked at him, and for the first time since their powers were suppressed, she felt a profound, chilling awe at the man she loved. He was a god, a universe-level being, and he had just shown her a glimpse of the terrible power that lay dormant within him.

Elias walked over to the sect cultivators, his movements calm and deliberate. The leader, the gray-bearded man who had been prepared to die, was shaking. "Who... who are you?" he stammered, his voice filled with a mixture of fear and gratitude. "How... how did you do that?"

Elias looked at him, his gaze a void of pure, logical power. "We are travelers," he said, his voice calm and unmoving. "And we do not like bullies." He gestured to Kaelen, who was now walking toward him. "We were on our way to your town. It seems we found a bit of trouble on the way."

The sect leader and his disciples, still in shock, bowed deeply. "You... you have saved us," the leader said, his voice filled with reverence. "We are eternally in your debt. My name is Elder Wei, of the Crimson Mountain Sect. We would be honored if you would come to our town as our guests."

Elias nodded, a faint, almost imperceptible smile on his face. "That is acceptable."

The path to their future had begun.

(AN: I forgot to add Lumie, I am too tired to go back and make edits, so just know Lumie is with them)