Ascension of the Forsaken Genius

Sylas had reached a turning point. He had managed to sense and hold onto pure energy, but that was not enough. Simply containing it was meaningless—he needed to learn how to move it, to guide it through his body as elemental cultivators did with their affinities.

But this was uncharted territory. No records, no teachings, no guidance existed for one who wielded pure energy. It was a forgotten path, a discarded possibility, and the sheer scarcity of pure energy made training all the more grueling.

Under the cover of night, Sylas continued his secret training. The storeroom had become his sanctuary, a hidden world where he was free from the disdainful gazes of his family. He sat cross-legged in the quiet darkness, his small body motionless as he concentrated on the faint wisps of energy around him.

He breathed in, slow and controlled, his mind reaching outward like unseen tendrils. The world remained silent, unmoving, yet in that silence, he felt something infinitesimally small—pure energy, lingering like the last remnants of a fading dream.

How do I move it?

Sylas had observed his brothers in secret, studying their techniques. He had seen his eldest brother guide fire through his body, controlling it with deep, measured breaths. The key was circulation.

But pure energy was different. Unlike fire, wind, or water, it did not flow naturally through predetermined pathways. It resisted movement, lingering stubbornly in place like a droplet of dew refusing to fall.

Frustration gnawed at him, but Sylas remained patient. He reached out again, coaxing the energy gently, nudging it toward his fingertips.

Minutes passed.

Then hours.

And then—

A ripple.

It was minuscule, barely perceptible, but he felt it. A single thread of pure energy stirred, shifting ever so slightly within him. His breath hitched, excitement surging through him.

He tried again, his mind honing in on the sensation, reinforcing it. The ripple grew, subtle yet unmistakable.

Sweat beaded his forehead, his small body trembling with the effort. His control was still weak, unrefined, but he had achieved what was once thought impossible—he had made pure energy move.

It took everything he had to maintain it, and even then, the movement was fleeting. The moment he lost focus, the energy slipped from his grasp, dissipating into nothingness.

He gritted his teeth, disappointment creeping in, but he quickly pushed it aside.

I did it once. That means I can do it again.

The next few weeks became a relentless cycle of trial and error.

He spent hours in seclusion—summoning pure energy, coaxing it to move, losing control, and starting over. Progress was agonizingly slow, but Sylas had long abandoned the notion of giving up. Every night, he fought against the odds, against the very laws of cultivation itself.

Bit by bit, his control sharpened. What had once taken hours to achieve now took only minutes. The energy, though stubborn, responded more easily to his call. His body adjusted, adapted, as if it, too, was learning alongside him.

Yet, even as he improved, an unsettling realization crept into his mind—

Pure energy was different.

Unlike elemental energies, it had no natural alignment. It did not strengthen the body like earth, nor quicken the mind like wind. It simply existed, a force with no innate inclination.

Despite his success in making the energy move, he felt a limitation—his control lacked fluidity. He could manipulate small amounts of energy, but it did not integrate with his body as elemental affinities did with their users.

Fire users became attuned to heat. Water users could manipulate moisture in the air. But pure energy granted him no such affinity. It was like wielding an unshaped blade—formless, undefined, and without inherent power.

That was when a new thought entered his mind:

What if pure energy could transform?

If pure energy had no elemental alignment, did that mean it could be molded into any element? If so, then his affinity wasn’t useless—it was a foundation, a starting point for something greater.

The idea was exhilarating.

Sylas attempted to shape the energy, willing it to adopt the qualities of fire, water, or even wind. But no matter what he tried, the energy remained unchanged.

Something was missing—some crucial component that prevented him from executing his idea.

His frustration deepened, but so did his determination. He had discovered a possibility, and possibilities led to breakthroughs. If he could unlock the mystery behind pure energy, he could surpass the limitations imposed on him.

He was certain of it.

And so, with newfound resolve, Sylas pushed forward, determined to unravel the mysteries of pure energy and carve out his own path to power.