I Can Only Cultivate In A Game

The moment Victor's consciousness dipped into the void, it was as if he had entered an endless night. No stars. No light. Nothing. Only the familiar rhythmic echo of his heartbeat reminded him that he was still tethered to reality.

Then... a faint outline appeared in the distance.

It was like smoke at first—unreal, formless—but slowly, it condensed into something humanoid, although it never fully took shape.

And from Victor's being, a single, thin strand of spiritual thread extended. It moved on its own, following an unknown law, connecting directly to the faint silhouette before him.

[DING! First Stage of Bloodline Resonance Technique Successfully Completed.]

Victor's eyes flew open. He expected daylight, maybe mid-morning. But instead, the deep orange hue of twilight had faded into indigo, stars dotting the sky above.

He rubbed his eyes and looked ahead. Elder Mo was floating a few feet above the ground in a lotus position with his robe fluttering slightly as though caught in a breeze that only answered to him.

Elder Mo's eyes opened at this moment.

"You're already back?" he questioned while tilting his head slightly. "Hmph. That was... considerably fast. For someone just beginning bloodline integration, I had expected you to remain in that state for at least four full days."

Victor exhaled slowly. "Felt like minutes."

"Time is relative during internal cultivation," Elder Mo said as he gracefully floated down and landed soundlessly. "Still, the fact that you returned before sunset fell too deeply is a testament your potential. Most cultivators would still be struggling to find the thread."

At that moment, a servant girl approached—robed in blue and white sect attire. She held a tray.

Resting on it were several bottles and dishes—elixirs, energy supplements, and fruits imbued with spiritual energy.

Victor thanked her with a nod and began consuming the elixirs without delay. The moment they slid down his throat, he felt bursts of heat and clarity pulse through his meridians.

Elder Mo clasped his hands behind his back. "Eat well. You'll need the energy. The second stage is where many cultivators stumble. The connection is formed in the first. But in the second... the bloodline begins to test you."

Victor raised an eyebrow. "Test me?"

"Not in words or visions," Elder Mo said. "But in resistance. Your very being will be challenged. You must push deeper—force your soul to call out your bloodline's resonance again, but this time hold it, stabilize it. Don't just connect. Harmonize."

After finishing his meal, Victor followed Elder Mo's instructions.

He reentered meditation.

Again, the black void greeted him, but this time he didn't hesitate. He focused on the thread, found the silhouette, and this time, his spiritual thread began to wrap around it. There was resistance—a push and pull, like trying to bind flames with thread. But Victor persisted, keeping his breathing steady and his will unwavering.

It hurt.

His head throbbed. His limbs trembled. Even in the spiritual plane, he felt his body struggling to hold on. The pressure was mounting, and a sharp, suffocating pain lanced through his chest.

But finally, the struggle ceased. The thread solidified, and the silhouette dimmed into Victor's core.

[DING! Second Stage of Bloodline Resonance Technique Successfully Completed.]

Victor slumped forward, barely catching himself on one elbow. His robes were soaked in sweat, and his breathing was ragged.

This time, two full days had passed.

Elder Mo stepped forward with a slight smirk. "Now that... was more like it."

Victor wiped his brow. "So what's next?"

Elder Mo's face grew serious.

"The third stage is... different. It's less about synchronization and more about manifestation. You must call forth a projection of your bloodline—formless as it is—and manifest it into this realm. Even if only briefly. That essence will determine how easily the final stage comes to you. And... it will awaken something within you."

Victor frowned. "Manifest it? How do I do that if I've never seen its true form?"

"You don't need to. You let it show you."

Victor understood this would be unlike anything he had done before. As he sat once more, feeling the soft breeze and the vibration of spiritual energy in the air, he let his bloodline stir.

His skin once again glowed faintly with mythical light. White arrows of energy etched into his arms like celestial ink. The stars in the sky seemed to pulse in harmony.

As he closed his eyes to begin the third stage, the air around him rippled—and Elder Mo watched silently.

"Let us see what form your bloodline takes, Fang Chen..."

Victor inhaled slowly...

In...

Out...

Thump...

Clear...

The darkness of his mindscape returned, stretching endlessly around him. But this time, the faint outline in the blackness throbbed more steadily, as though responding to him now.

Then... a ripple.

Something stirred in the void.

Without warning, light erupted from the outline. Threads of space tore open within the darkness, forming fragmented images of constellations spiraling, folding into themselves.

Stars were being consumed and reborn in bursts of brilliant white and silver. It was like witnessing the birthing of galaxies from an impossible distance.

The form that emerged from this cosmic chaos wasn't a creature.

It was a being with long flowing hair, a coat of celestial silver flames surrounding his body.

The being's stature was 100% similar to the same silhouette Victor had seen when his bloodline was awakening. Only that this time, he was much clearer.

His hands were outstretched, and in one palm was a flickering sphere of compressed space. In the other, a time dial spun endlessly. His face still could not be seen—only those eyes. Those bottomless voids.

Victor's connection to this presence felt stronger now. The blood in his veins vibrated, recognizing its source.

The third stage required more than just willpower—it needed identity.

"Who are you?" the voice asked—not Elder Mo's. It was the presence before him.

The presence of the Void emperor.

Victor hesitated.

He had asked himself that question many times.

Was he Victor Revenant, the awkward, funny, broken gamer from a endangered city? Or was he Fang Chen, the rogue cultivator with an awakened bloodline within a fantasy game that allowed him to use its power in reality?

"I'm... both."

He stood upright in the void. "I am who I choose to be. And I choose to defy fate despite not being an awakened."