I Hate Cultivators: Becoming a Mage in the Cultivation World

A couple of days later:

The antique wooden floor creaked as Constantine, his grey robe neatly clean and his back straight, walked toward the elderly man leaning over his table. Neatly stacked sheets of paper and opened parchment spread all over it.

A cup of hot tea steamed in his hand as he quietly placed it beside the old man, ensuring it was in the correct spot.

Constantine briefly glanced at the parchment the elderly scholar was studying, recognizing sketches of triangles and some numbers scribbled beside them.

"Curious?" The old man, Asmodeo, lifted his gaze, his voice smooth.

"Yes, teacher."

"Curiosity is important for a scholar; come, and I will show you." Constantine, feigning interest in the simple math problem, leaned closer, scanning the parchment. He could hardly keep a smile off his face, seeing the history of math replay right before his eyes.

"My good friend, Architect Asbestos Lin, has recently requested my help with a certain problem." The elderly scholar pointed at a larger parchment, showcasing a blueprint of some building, his wrinkly finger pointing at the diamond-shaped section in its center.

"This shape is a tad bit unusual, and as the floor material is expensive white marble, he needs to approximate the needed amount as accurately as possible."

Constantine nodded, his curiosity piqued by the grid overlapping the diamond on the smaller parchment.

"Boy, do you know how we can approximate the area of complex shapes like this?"

Approximate? Constantine, of course, knew how to calculate it accurately, but not betraying his internal thoughts, he just shook his head.

"Good, in that case, you might learn something new today. We will use the grid method." The scholar hovered his hand above the grid, explaining its principle. It was based on overlaying a grid of equal squares over the complex geometric shape, counting their number, and approximating the number of ones one could get by combining incomplete ones. The smaller the squares one used, the higher the accuracy.

Watching the older teacher explain, Constantine already put his plan into motion. This was his opportunity to improve his standing. He just had to think of a way that wouldn't be too suspicious; he needed to simplify the modern formula to its roots.

He leaned closer, his eyes widening as he stuttered, drawing Asmodeo's attention to him.

"Is something the matter, boy?"

He gulped, as obviously as he could "Teacher, I see something in this shape."

"What?" Asmodeo lowered his gaze, his blue eyes piercing straight into Constantine.

"May I borrow the coal?"

Asmodeo nodded, while Constantine, with the piece of coal in his hand, split the diamond with two straight lines into four equal, right-angle triangles "Teacher, if we split it like this, we get four triangles like this."

Asmodeo's eyes widened, and a broad smile spread across his face "This will simplify the calculation of the grid to a fourth of the original!" he exclaimed, his voice trembling with excitement.

Constantine internally laughed 'This is only the beginning.'

"Continue." Asmodeo waved at him, his elderly eyes burning with visible curiosity, his tone tinged with a bit of impatience.

Constantine drew once more, sketching a single rectangle. Then, with a single stroke, he split it into right-angle triangles.

Asmodeo's eyes widened as he leapt out of his chair with a speed unfitting of his elderly looks. With an excited tone, he grabbed the piece of coal, scribbling on the parchment while muttering, "That means we can calculate the area of the entire diamond as the sum of two rectangles whose sides we calculate from the sides of the four triangles we got!"

With the last stroke, the scholar collapsed back into his chair, his mouth open in a wide grin "How could I not see this earlier? Boy, it looks like I still underestimated your mind."

A flicker of shame passed through Constantine as he realized he was taking credit for someone else's work. He quickly masked it with an excited grin, hoping his teacher wouldn't notice the brief hesitation. "Teacher, I wouldn't have been able to do it without your guidance. It is all thanks to you."

"Well, well, you are right. This wouldn't be possible without my guidance," The elderly man turned serious, "But I am a fair master. I will offer to share this method as our joint work."

Constantine nodded without even a moment of hesitation, "Of course teacher."

From the moment he decided to show it, he considered the scenario of the old man presenting the solution as his own. Yet, he was still willing to show it, because Constantine knew that as long as he didn't cause any trouble about it, it would improve his standing with the elderly scholar.

"I see you understand." The elderly scholar smiled, rubbing his wrinkly hands together.

Constantine, even though he was inwardly a bit annoyed, seeing that the man was willing to share instead of stealing it entirely, was more than content.

'As if anyone would believe me over him.' He wasn't naive enough to fight a battle he couldn't possibly win, nor did he care enough about something so small. He had knowledge of an entire advanced civilization with him, and as long as he was willing, he could make as many discoveries as he desired.

'At least, now I know more of your character.'

The old scholar continued "Tomorrow, I will call all the scholars of the city, and we will present them with our solution."

Constantine nodded humbly, knowing this would elevate his station. As long as he became famous enough as a scholar, he might even get the opportunity to dissect some monsters, furthering his progress in exploring the mystical arts.

Later that same evening:

The river of heat surged through the boy's body as he sat cross-legged on his bed. His eyes were firmly shut, and his mind focused on circulating the warm energy through every tendon, vein, and bone. Yet, he couldn't rid himself of the vivid image of the bat-like monster shooting fireballs out of its maw, replaying in his mind.

His eyes snapped wide open, a spark of light shining like a brilliant star inside them before extinguishing.

He opened his palm, guiding the energy into it. It seeped through his palm into his fingers, rising out of his fingertips in faint, shimmering tendrils that made the air around them quiver with unseen force. Nothing happened; his essence, his energy, losing its shape, disappeared like dust thrown into the wind.

<>

The boy cut off the stream of warmth, calming its flow as it peacefully circulated through him. His eyebrows knitted in a deep frown. 'The manual is correct. I can't use Qi—' He paused and shook his head. '—mana,' he corrected, liking that term much more, '—outside the body. It dissipates too quickly.'

He couldn't contain the curiosity wreaking havoc within him. He wanted to know how the monster did it. From the cultivator's words, it was just a low-ranked monster, yet it could do something only high-stage cultivators could do.

'Could it be some chemical it produces?' No, he shook his head in dismay, knowing that the fireballs didn't behave in a way to support such a theory.

'Too stable, unchanging, and... full, solid?' They didn't look like burning gas or liquid; instead, they looked like pure flames.

'In that case, the fireballs had to have a supernatural origin. Burning mana? Mana transformed into fire?' He guided the warmth into his hand once more, the tingling sensation intensifying as the air slightly shimmered and the energy once more dissipated and vanished.

Watching it dissipate, almost like a droplet of blood in a river, sparked a theory. 'Mana of low-level cultivators and monsters is somehow different, as theirs remains stable even after leaving their body.'

Reaching under the pillow beside him, the boy brought out the old book and restlessly flipped through its pages.

His fingers brushed against the rough, time-worn paper until his eyes landed on the crucial sentence he was looking for, his mind extracting the information out of the poetic nonsense 'In the first substage of the body refining stage, the Qi Adaptation substage, one has to infuse Qi into one's body by circulating it through. This will result in the adaptation of one's body to the mystic energies, opening their channels and allowing control of the currents inside one's body.'

Submerged in deep thought, he pondered what the monster did differently to allow it to use its energy to form fireballs.

Searching for answers, he looked for analogous phenomena in physics 'Throwing a handful of sand into the wind is useless; it dissipates. So how can one fix this issue?'

He thought briefly, quickly coming up with two solutions: 'If one can instead unleash the sand at high speed, like sandblasting cleaners, it will keep its form and direction momentarily. Alternatively, one can use pressure to concentrate it into tightly bound sandstone, which would also allow it to keep its shape and direction in the wind.'

It was just a crude analogy, but his eyes lit up with the image of the bloodied demon core held by the cultivator.

Hurriedly, he flipped through the book, landing on a specific page. He winced, annoyance pulsing at his temples as he stared at the poetic gibberish taking up an entire page beside the drawing of the sphere.

'Implant, please filter out all the poetic nonsense and extract the information on monster cores.'

<<------------>>

A cultivator can consume demonic/monster cores, as they are made of pure, undiluted Qi, to advance their cultivation.

Consuming cores can be addictive, hindering a cultivator's natural energy absorption and progress.

Not all types of monsters have one, but they can have zero or multiple cores.

Locations of the cores are based on the monsters' race.

<<------------>>

'Why would a monster have a ball of condensed mana inside them?' The boy pondered, his eyes suddenly widening. 'Could it be that it is concentrating and condensing the energy in focal points to increase its concentration?'

It was just a theory, but when the boy thought of the monster, it felt plausible. It could unleash external techniques like a powerful cultivator, but its body was disproportionately weak.

'Give me information on the second, third, fourth, and fifth substages of cultivation extracted from the manual.' He instructed the chip silently, not in the mood to look into the poetic gibberish anymore.

<<------------>>

Internal purity

Process: Using currents of Qi to wash away impurities from internal organs, veins, and energy channels.

Effects: Improved vitality, endurance, stamina, and health.

<<------------>>

Muscle infusion

Process: Infusion of Qi into movement muscles, either focused on all or prioritizing a specific group.

Effects: Increase in muscle strength, flexibility, and physical durability.

<<------------>>

Bones infusion

Process: Infusion of Qi into movement bones.

Effects: Increase in bone density and durability.

<<------------>>

Muscle refinement

Process: Usage of Qi to refine one's muscles by constantly damaging them through harsh physical practice and overuse of Qi above their limits.

Effects: A massive increase in muscle strength, pain resistance, flexibility, regeneration, and physical durability; a minor improvement in energy durability.

<<------------>>

'Already at the fifth substage, and there is not even a single mention of condensing the energy to increase its concentration.' His theory seemed even more feasible, but it wasn't enough for him; he needed to analyze it more.

'Implant, search all the information from the manual for any mentions of energy quality or concentration. Compile your findings.'

The device responded immediately, with text appearing floating in the center of his vision.

<<------------>>

As the cultivator progresses through stages, the quality and concentration of their Qi gradually improves.

<<------------>>

The boy closed the manual as he found the last bit of the string to connect all the indications 'This explains why high-level cultivators can gradually gain the ability to control mana outside their bodies and perform external techniques.'

By infusing and condensing Qi in every part of their body, they gradually increased Qi's overall concentration.

It was all just an assumption, but Constantine felt he had made his first breakthrough 'If instead of spreading my mana to empower my body, I concentrate it to a single point, to form my own core, I will reach the stage where I can use my mana outside my body much sooner.'

The only aspect that worried him was the glaring weakness of leaving one's body weak by utilizing the energy to form the core, instead of infusing it into his muscles. 'No, eventually my body will likely also grow stronger—while not even close to the orthodox cultivators, but stronger than those of mortals just from the side effect of higher energy density within me.'

One couldn't have everything, and he was ready to explore the unknown path, feeling no joy in just blindly following the path already given to him. He was going to forge his own.

The image of himself throwing fireballs around flashed through his mind. 'It kind of reminds me of wizards and how they were always depicted.' Constantine amused himself with the silly thought, but his amused expression gradually became serious.

'A mage?' He liked the name; he liked it much more than calling himself a cultivator like all those arrogant, antique fools. 'Mages and wizards could be called the scientists of the supernatural.'

Across the various fiction he read, they were often depicted as scholarly people who spent most of their lives studying, researching, and experimenting.

'Maybe I could forge my own path? Could I become a mage?' he thought, his eyes widening, 'Yes! Instead of becoming a decrepit cultivator foolishly following ancient knowledge, I will become a mage, properly analyzing and studying the supernatural forces of this world.'

He leaped to his feet, a huge grin donning his face 'Yes, I will forge the path of magic and wizardry!'

Yet, no matter how eagerly his heart pounded, he wasn't a fool to throw himself into doing something based upon unverified information with his own body, so he calmed himself down.

'The Qi Adaptation and Internal Purity substages will work for me too. On the third one, I can start creating my core. Until then, I will have time to explore more.'

The next day:

The elderly scholar unsteadily shuffled forward, accompanied by the clacking of his walking stick against the smooth stone floor. The young boy followed behind him, intentionally slowing his pace to explore his surroundings. Riddled with curiosity, Constantine's gaze wandered around the massive structure.

It was the first time since awakening in this body that he had seen anything so large. Tall pillars of polished white stone, presumably limestone, supported a towering, arched ceiling above his head. Countless paper lanterns hung from chains, illuminating the vast space.

His eyes lingered momentarily on the multitude of decapitated white statues aligned along the walls, their white stone seared black, likely by flames. The damage and the way they remained in disrepair felt intentional to him.

'Why are they here? Why were they destroyed?' He wanted to ask but didn't dare, fearing accidentally breaching some taboo topic. Especially as he had his suspicions: 'It wasn't uncommon to use symbols like this during a war.'

Even now, there was a war in the north, and the city lord and most of his army were absent, summoned to participate in it.

The elderly scholar shook his head as he waved at him. "Stop looking around like that. The city's magisterium isn't a place for that."

"Of course, teacher." Constantine nodded and sped up his pace, catching up with his teacher.

'This is more official than I initially thought.' As he walked through the enormous structure, the significance of his actions weighed heavily on him. He had expected to present his solution to a couple of old men in some cramped study room, but now he stood inside what he realized was the center of the city's administration.

"We are here. Do not fret, boy. Just do as I instructed you the last evening." His teacher's voice jolted him out of his daydreaming, grounding him firmly back in reality. They stood before a set of polished wooden doors. A script was chiseled into a stone plaque beside them: Council of Mortal Knowledge.