I Can Only Cultivate In A Game-Chapter 183: The Uncharted Wilds

Mountains that changed shape based on celestial phases. And then there were places where time didn't flow properly—walk in during sunset and come out to find a year had passed.

Victor devoured every book he could within the allowed tier. But the Uncharted Wilds remained elusive. All references he found were vague. "The mist lands beyond comprehension," one book said.

Another claimed it was located in a region near the southeastern trench of what used to be coastal India, but the coordinates made no sense.

By the time the artificial lights dimmed to signal dawn, Victor had developed a mild twitch in his left eye. His hands were ink-stained, and he reeked of paper glue and mental exhaustion. But he wasn't going to stop.

If Kairo could find it, so could he.

He stood, stretched his back until it popped, and glanced out the giant crystal window overlooking the Academy's east wing. The sun wasn't up yet, but the sky was starting to lighten.

"Alright," he muttered while rubbing his eyes. "Round two."

He headed for the next closest library. Maybe the answer wasn't in conventional geography, but in obscure expedition logs or decrypted relic records. Either way, he was going to find it.

...

...

Victor's eyes ached from further hours of relentless research, but he refused to stop.

The new library around him was vast—

Rows upon rows of floating tomes, encased in glowing glyphs and suspended in radiant light. He had moved from one hall to another, gathering dusty maps, ancient atlases, and weathered expedition logs, all in the hopes of finding what others had missed.

Victor was already giving up.

It was Sunday, and the submission date for the General Studies assignment was Monday.

He had spent almost two full days moving from library to library, flipping through maps, ancient geography logs, old textbooks, and obscure records on pre-mana world layouts.

He had learned so much, and yet he hadn't found what he was looking for—the location of the Uncharted Wilds.

His head ached. His eyes stung. And as he dragged himself out of yet another quiet, floating archive section of one of the lesser-known libraries, he wondered if the whole assignment was a trick question.

"Maybe this is just one of those things no one's meant to find," he muttered under his breath as he trudged through the dimly lit pathway that led back toward the dorms.

He was just about to round a corner when he slowed.

A group of girls were lounging on the grass outside one of the open-air courtyards, speaking with loud voices.

"—I'm telling you, leaving him alone in a room with me would be too dangerous. Not for me but for him. He's too hot," one of them giggled.

Victor was about to walk past, when the word dangerous hit him like a thrown dagger.

His eyes widened.

Dangerous.

Suddenly, like puzzle pieces locking together, flashes of everything he'd read began to tumble into place. All the fragments that mentioned the Uncharted Wilds always emphasized the word "dangerous".

But that word was used everywhere when referring to regions outside the dome cities. Why did the Uncharted Wilds seem to emphasize it repeatedly?

He paused in place while myriad of thoughts ran through his mind. A memory of one of the more recent maps he had glanced at earlier that evening flashed into view in his head—red zones marked A to G.

He hadn't looked too deeply at them. Just noticed the red color and skimmed over the designations. He had assumed they were some kind of quarantine areas.

"Wait..."

Victor turned sharply on his heel and bolted.

Back to the library.

He reached the archive area, input his ID, and raced toward the floating map records. The map he remembered was still in his cache. He accessed it and stared.

There it was.

Zones A through G.

Red.

Unlabeled.

Marked only as hazardous.

Victor quickly went and brought back a map that was older than the one in his grasp by about ten years.

He laid it side-by-side with the newer one. He scanned both.

On the much older map, only four zones were marked in red, and they weren't referred to as A to G—

They were referred to as "The Beyond".

Oddly, some of the current Zones E, F, and G were once named cities from days before the mana descent.

Something had changed.

He darted toward the historical archive index and pulled a massive compendium of Awakened Defense History. Flipping through its yellow-edged pages, he read about early reclamation efforts, the rise and fall of clean-up teams, and then—there it was.

"When scouts were first sent into these areas now known as 'Beyond Zones,' they failed to report back. All communication ceased. Some of the best Assassin-class Awakened disappeared without a trace. Repeated attempts to breach these areas ended with mass casualties."

He swiftly located another map made five years after the previous one and that had 'The Beyond' marked as Zones A to G.

"Zone A to G..."

They weren't just random red regions stamped on a map. The more Victor examined the timestamped editions, the clearer it became: they were spreading.

The oldest edition he checked only had four marked areas called 'The Beyond'.

But in the version created a decade later, there were seven. And here it had changed from 'The Beyond' to Zones A to G. Adding three more areas.

On a map created five years after that, they had become eleven.

Zone A to K.

Each zone coincided with reports of failed recon missions. Entire squads of awakened vanishing, not a single communication received after contact. Some of the logs didn't even describe what happened—just a line that read: "Lost. No retrieval."

And still, no names. No cities. No landmarks. Only danger zones.

Victor recalled something Instructor Kaelani Vos once said during a lecture: "We fear what we cannot name. The Uncharted Wilds have no name… for a reason."

The pieces clicked in his mind like a sudden jolt of thunder.

He remembered the whispers. The terms. "Beyond" was what the earliest records had called it. Then it became Zone A through K.

This wasn't just a random designation. It was the silent evolution of fear. Of ignorance. A silent admittance by cartographers and awakened officers alike that something out there was unknowable… and possibly unbeatable.

He stood up from the archive table and rushed back to a nearby map—one that was labeled "World Survey: Year 21 After the Rift." It was stamped with bold red circles in eleven places.

No name. No details. Just crimson.

Victor skimmed through a corresponding book on recorded recon attempts. Page after page. One mentioned a team of assassins who were "sent to scout Sector F" and "never reported back." Another described the deployment of a high-level berserker unit that "was annihilated within minutes of crossing into Sector B." Survivors? None.

But there were timestamps. Missions attempted. Follow-ups planned… and canceled.

Victor flipped to the glossary in the back of the volume and found a sentence scrawled in italic gold ink:

"The Uncharted Wilds—zones beyond comprehension. Unnamed, untouched, Unreclaimed, unexplained."

His hand trembled as he wrote that down. Finally. Proof. Not guesswork. Not theory.

He whispered to himself, "I found it. I found the Uncharted Wilds."

Victor closed the book and leaned back against the chair while exhaling deeply.

The library's magical lights flickered overhead as if congratulating him. His eyes wandered across the massive archive once more. He had never stepped foot into these libraries since arriving at the Academy, but now he understood. This place didn't just hold information—it held answers.

Answers most never even thought to ask.

There was a world of knowledge here waiting to be discovered.

He jotted everything down, organizing his notes clearly and concisely. He needed to impress Instructor Kaelani Vos. This wasn't about being flashy—it was about showing the work. The depth. The trail that led him here.

By the time Victor left the library, it was already 2A.M midnight.

He hadn't slept in days and was extremely exhausted. freēnovelkiss.com

The moment he got back to his dorm, he collapsed onto his bed and passed out...

...

...

(( Hours Later ))

Victor shot out of bed like a man chased by demons.

"Crap! Crap! Crap!"

The blaring red digits on his desk clock read 5:14 AM. He was late.

He yanked on his training uniform, still halfway tucked from yesterday, and bolted out of the dorm.

Kairo wasn't even in sight—probably already at his camp like every other punctual student. Victor sprinted across the mist-drenched paths with his eyes burning from the lack of sleep.

By the time he skidded to a halt at Camp 11's designated obstacle track, Instructor Vex Rhane stood with arms folded and an expression that could slice boulders in half.

The camp was already mid-routine.

Students were scaling walls, leaping platforms, and crawling under mana-wired netting.

Victor saluted awkwardly.

"Revenant," Rhane's voice was as sharp as his jawline, "You are fifteen minutes late."

Victor nodded while panting.

"Since you like extra attention, you get extra work. Four laps. Weighted. No abilities."