Reborn with the SSS-Rank Creator System-Chapter 35: Half-step Spirit Gathering

The soft light of dawn filtered through the polished windows of their temporary residence in the Heavenly Star Sect, catching dust motes in golden beams. Theos sat cross-legged on his bed, his breathing calm, gaze sharp. Beside him, Xiphos adjusted his blindfold with habitual grace, the black cloth barely shifting despite the gesture. A faint warmth radiated from the wooden floor beneath them, the quiet of the room broken only by the slow creak of beams settling from the previous night's cold.

A soft hum echoed in their minds as they both summoned their status screens. Twin projections shimmered in the quiet air, their glow pulsing softly like ancient runes awakened from slumber.

[ STATUS SCREEN ]

Name: Xiphos Windslayer

Species: Human

Age: 10 years

Cultivation Technique: Anti Primordial Qi

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Cultivation Stage: Bone Forging (9th Stage) ??

Strength: Muscle Forging (9th Stage)

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Spirit Root: Mythical Grade

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Talents:

• Sword God (SSS)

• Energy Manipulation (S)

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Skills:

• High Sword Mastery (Stage 9) • High Sword Steps (Stage 5)

• Low weapon aura (Stage 5)

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Unique Skills:

• Slayer (Locked)

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[ STATUS SCREEN ]

Name: Theos Redheart

Species: Human (Superior)

Age: 10 years

Title: ???? (Locked), Reincarnator Cultivation Technique: Origin Chaos (????)

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Cultivation Stage: Bone Forging (9th Stage) ???

Strength: Half Step Spirit Gathering

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Spirit Root: Primordial Grade

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Talents:

• Supreme Eyes (SSS) – Upgradable

• Master of Every Art (SSS) – Upgradable

• Energy Manipulation (SSS) – Upgradable

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Skills:

• High Dagger Mastery (Stage 3)

• Killing Intent (SSS) (Stage 4 )

• Low Sword Steps (Stage 5)

• Mid Weapon Aura (Stage 3)

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Unique Skills:

• ????? (Locked)

As they both reviewed their status screens in silence, the subtle pulse of information and data seemed to linger in the air. Xiphos broke the quiet. "So, what did you gain from the trial?" he asked, his voice calm but curious.

Theos leaned back, his tone casual though the weight of his answer was anything but. "Strength-wise, I've reached half step Spirit Gathering."

Xiphos paused, his brows furrowing beneath his blindfold. The air between them seemed to grow heavier. "Half step Spirit Gathering? Are you serious? That's... that's not just rare—it's supposed to be impossible."

He leaned forward, visibly shaken. "My master was crystal clear—no one, not even prodigies, can exceed the ninth stage of Muscle Forging while still in Bone Forging. It's a fundamental limit of the realm. Even the most divine cultivation techniques don't bypass that."

His voice dropped to a murmur, more to himself than to Theos. "How can someone in Bone Forging contain strength that's practically stepping into Spirit Gathering...? It doesn't make sense."

The gap between ninth stage Muscle Forging and the first stage of Spirit Gathering is massive. From what is known, even massive temporary boosts in spirit energy are often insufficient to bridge it. For example, Theos' spirit energy increased by 6 times during the second test, yet his strength didn't leap to the next realm.

Strength is not something simple or linear. It's an accumulation—spirit energy, body compatibility, innate talents, technique comprehension, even battle instincts all play a role.

Before Theos could respond further, a knock echoed on the door. A voice called out from the hallway, steady and clear, "All disciples, please gather in the main dining hall. Breakfast is ready."

Theos stood up and stretched, the joints in his shoulders cracking softly. "Let's go."

The walk down the spiral wooden staircase was filled with subtle tension and anticipation. The polished banisters gleamed under the warm morning light, and the scent of freshly baked bread and earthy herbs wafted up the hallway like a welcome greeting. Their footsteps echoed softly, mingling with the clinking of dishes and the murmur of voices downstairs.

As they entered the dining hall, the rest of their group had already arrived. Long wooden tables lined the room, and soft cushions were arranged beneath them. A fireplace flickered gently in the corner, casting warm shadows across the floor.

Eryk sat with his elbows on the table, chatting casually with Arlen, who was mid-bite into a warm roll. Lyra offered a friendly wave upon noticing them. Selene, seated on the far end, perked up instantly upon seeing Theos, her gaze fixated.

"Good morning," she greeted, though her tone quickly shifted to curiosity. "Theos, I've been wondering... what's the secret to your strength?"

Theos froze in his step. A flicker of annoyance crossed his crimson eyes. The room didn't quiet, but there was a subtle shift in attention. He walked over slowly, the weight of his presence falling over the table like a shadow.

"I've been ignoring your questions, Selene," he said quietly, but the steel in his voice cut through the morning air. "I hoped you'd understand that I'm not interested in sharing."

Selene blinked, startled, but he continued before she could speak.

"Asking about someone's strength—especially in the world of cultivation—isn't curiosity. It's disrespect."

He leaned in slightly, his voice lowering, each word laced with quiet finality. "Would you tell me about your family's secret techniques or inherited powers? No? Then don't expect me to do the same."

He straightened, and in that instant, a surge of cold, suffocating killing intent burst forth. The atmosphere darkened like a cloud had passed over the sun. A few weaker disciples seated nearby gasped audibly, spoons frozen mid-air, and even Eryk stopped mid-bite, eyes wide.

Theos' eyes narrowed. "This is your final warning. Don't poke your nose into our business."

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The pressure disappeared as suddenly as it came. The silence that followed was deep and long.

Selene, to her credit, didn't retaliate. Instead, her expression shifted to something more thoughtful. She lowered her gaze. "You're right," she said softly. "I apologize."

The tension broke as Xiphos joined Theos, clapping him lightly on the shoulder. "Well said," he murmured. They moved to fill their plates, the others slowly resuming their meals, though the mood remained cautious and contemplative.

The meal was simple but hearty—steamed rice, spiced meat stew, and warm herbal tea that seemed to replenish more than just energy. Theos chewed in silence, savoring the spices that danced across his tongue, while his eyes occasionally drifted to the window, where sunlight spilled in golden streaks.

After the meal, a man dressed in sleek azure robes stepped into the hall. His presence commanded attention with quiet authority. A silver badge on his chest marked him as a senior instructor.

"Disciples," he addressed, his voice firm, "I'm here to escort you to the Talent Assessment Hall. Finish up and follow me."

They stood and gathered in a loose line. Footsteps echoed softly as they began to move.

As they walked, the instructor spoke without turning. "Today's test will evaluate your spirit root grade. That's what we consider 'talent' here—not merely the skills or techniques you have now. But the potential you hold for the future."

He paused, letting the words settle like dust in the air.

"A spirit root determines how well your body harmonizes with Spirit Energy, how efficiently you absorb it, and how deeply you comprehend cultivation principles. The stronger the root, the smoother your path to advancement."

They exited the sect residence, stepping into a new world.

The city bustled with life. Towering walls of crystalline stone framed the streets, catching the morning sun and scattering prismatic light across the cobbled paths. Vendors lined the avenues, selling everything from spirit-infused cloth to exotic beast-hide talismans. The scent of sizzling food, polished wood, and rare incense mingled in the air.

Cultivators roamed in flowing robes of varying color and design, their spirit auras painting faint trails in the air like drifting silk. Every corner held something to marvel at.

Theos took it all in silently, eyes sharp and analytical. Xiphos walked beside him, posture relaxed but senses clearly alert. Lyra pointed out a towering building that pulsed with softly glowing formation runes, while Arlen marveled at the sight of flying beast carriages overhead.

After thirty minutes of steady travel, they reached their destination.

A grand temple-like structure loomed ahead, carved directly into the side of a mountain. Its gates stood twice the height of a man, inlaid with glimmering jade and gold. Massive statues of ancient cultivators lined the approach, their stone gazes fixed and solemn, as if judging every soul who dared step forward.

"This," the instructor said, halting before the gate, "is where your potential will be revealed."