[Lord of Abundance] Chapter 19: The Third Method of Breakthrough

 Chapter 19: The Third Method of Breakthrough

Traveling between two worlds was no simple matter. Even with the help of the Gate of Abundance, each passage consumed a considerable amount of Kun’s magic.

Roughly equivalent to the full mana reserves of a third-tier mage—fortunately, he himself was a fourth-tier mage.

Moreover, thanks to the unique traits of an Abundance Mage, his mana reserves were more than thirty times those of others at the same level.

Even though he had to keep his mana at a relatively low level to sustain Li Tianyun’s life, the amount he retained was still far beyond what ordinary third-tier archmages could imagine.

Yet in just the past two days, Kun had passed through the Gate of Abundance over a hundred times, exhausting his mana source five times. In all his life, he had never experienced anything like it.

There was no choice. The high-yield crop seeds from Blue Star had arrived, but the Gate of Abundance wasn’t some Doraemon-style Anywhere Door. To transport items between worlds, he had to carry them personally.

And anything alive—except for embryonic forms like seeds—could not pass through if it possessed a complete soul.

Fortunately, this “personal carrying” extended to his spatial storage. Otherwise, there was no way he could have moved all those seeds and farming tools piece by piece to Blackstone Castle like an ant hauling food.

If not, well… he might have set a new kingdom record—the first fourth-tier archmage to die from overwork.

He’d probably be laughed at for the next thousand years. In a way, that would make him famous.

—

Kun possessed two spatial storage spaces.

The larger one, about one cubic meter in volume, was something he had forcibly created after advancing to the fourth tier, using his immense magical power.

In truth, any fourth-tier mage could do this—the difference lay only in how large and stable the space they could create.

Kun estimated that most fourth-tier mages could manage at most a space about one cubic foot in size—over twenty times smaller than his.

The smaller storage space came from a ring he wore on his pinky finger.

It was a pure white bone ring, set with a pea-sized silver crystal core. Inside was only half a cubic meter of space, making it a low-tier magical item.

Both its material and the magic crystal embedded in it came from low-tier magical beasts.

But this “low-tier” referred to spatial-type magical beasts—creatures so rare they were like phoenix feathers and qilin horns across the entire Eternal Radiance Continent.

In terms of actual value, this ring was even more precious and rare than some high-tier magical artifacts left behind by famous mages in history.

Kun had taken it from the Marquis estate’s treasury. As far as he knew, the entire Arlan family only possessed two spatial artifacts.

One was a belt, slightly larger in capacity, worn by his father.

The other was this ring.

The problem was, the ring was simply too small. Lawrence Marquis, who stood two and a half meters tall with a powerful build, couldn’t wear it—not even on his pinky. That was why it had been left behind in the treasury.

—

With his personal spatial storage and the ring combined, Kun spent two full days transporting all the goods back to Blackstone Castle’s cellar, stacking them together with the seeds purchased from Lovos City.

Looking at the mountain of seeds piled in the cellar, Kun couldn’t help but feel a headache coming on.

There was only one week left before the spring planting season.

Before that, he still needed to use the power of the Mark of Abundance to fuse seeds from both worlds—a task that would undoubtedly be exhausting.

And it had to be done by his own hands. After all, there was likely no second Abundance Mage in existence.

—

Old Tate followed behind him, clearly curious about the strangely packaged seeds, but he didn’t ask a single question.

“How’s Dawn doing as an instructor? I heard he’s taken on a new disciple.”

“My lord.”

A passing maid stepped aside in the corridor and bowed respectfully.

Old Tate clicked his tongue.

“The same as always—teetering on the edge of misleading his students.

“If the disciple’s talented, he teaches well. If not, then just so-so.

“Tsk. Honestly, I can’t see what difference there is between his so-called peak third-tier warrior teaching and the instruction those rookie guards give.”

Kun merely smiled without responding.

A difference? Of course there was one.

A third-tier warrior’s perspective alone was something those mass-trained guards could never compare to.

Besides, Dawn had once been the famed Cloud-Piled Blade, undefeated across the kingdom. With a single sweeping strike, he could cut down an entire mercenary group.

It was only after he went to the royal capital to challenge those reclusive old monsters—and got beaten a few times—that the once fiery young Dawn learned restraint.

Old Tate, who had only been a coachman back then, knew nothing of these stories. Kun had heard them during his own training days under Dawn, when his siblings would complain about him in private.

Dawn treated everyone equally—fail, and you were punished.

Kun, who had been punished the most, actually found some relief in hearing those complaints. A small comfort amid hardship.

—

Knowing what Kun really wanted to ask, Old Tate chose his words carefully.

“Young Master’s friend has been training diligently these past few days. Even Dawn—stubborn as a rock-horn ram—praised his perseverance and resilience.

“As for the other disciple… I’ve followed your instructions and delivered the Falling Star Technique along with its accompanying meteorite from the secret vault.

“I’ve heard she’s already grasped the basics. Her strength is improving rapidly. Looks like our dear captain will soon be grinning from ear to ear again.”

One praised for perseverance, the other for talent.

Kun immediately understood.

It seemed his “only thirty percent mana” debuff wouldn’t be lifting anytime soon.

Still, discovering someone capable of inheriting that technique in such a small territory—wasn’t that a stroke of luck?

—

The Falling Star Technique was a high-level method from three hundred years ago, created by the last fourth-tier powerhouse of the Dansu Kingdom, the Meteor Sword Saint.

He had risen like a comet, saving the kingdom from the brink of collapse. His fame remained unmatched.

After his death, the technique was preserved by several great families.

However, its cultivation requirements were extremely demanding. Even in the royal capital, only two or three people per generation could successfully cultivate it.

Kun knew that currently, only two people openly practiced it:

One was the king’s guard captain, over seventy years old—the undisputed strongest warrior in the kingdom.

The other… was his somewhat biased father.

If Nia could cultivate Falling Star, her talent was undeniable.

Kun made a mental note to meet her.

But being first didn’t guarantee success. Beyond talent, there was also opportunity.

Smiling faintly, Kun said, “My friend might give Master Dawn quite a surprise.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you remember what I told you about ‘grafting’?”

“Of course. I remember every word you say, Young Master.

“Grafting is when a branch or bud from one plant is attached to another plant’s stem or root, allowing them to grow together as a single organism—possibly combining their strengths.”

“I once ran an experiment,” Kun said. “I grafted a first-tier Serpent Pearl Flower onto a second-tier Dragon-Scale Tuber—and then did the reverse. Guess what happened?”

Old Tate thought for a moment before answering honestly:

“I wouldn’t know… Did the tuber grow the flower above ground while still producing its own roots below?”

“Exactly right,” Kun said with a smile. “Didn’t expect you to have a gardener’s instincts.”

“You flatter me, Young Master,” Old Tate grinned, revealing a missing tooth.

—

A first-tier magical plant grafted onto a second-tier one produced a second-tier flower. The reverse, however, failed.

Which meant the key factor wasn’t the graft—but the host.

Kun glanced at the six-pointed Mark of Abundance on his palm, only one segment faintly lit, and couldn’t help but sigh inwardly.

From a certain perspective, it was both terrifying—and incredibly powerful.

The first segment of Abundance, Sharing…

Or more accurately—Grafting.

Not just plants.

Even people.

—

If magical plants could inherit rank through grafting… could humans do the same?

That realization had come to Kun during an open-air auction in Lovos City, sparked by an offhand remark from Li Tianyun.

At its core, their relationship resembled a fragile branch grafted onto a towering tree.

The larger the tree grew, the more branches it could support.

And those branches, as grafts, could inherit the host’s rank.

Which meant that although Li Tianyun lacked talent as a warrior, he had no bottleneck.

Given enough time, he would inevitably reach the same level as Kun.

Because, in essence, he was already fourth-tier.

His foundation was simply too weak to fully express it.

Compared to most people in the kingdom—including Dawn and even Lawrence Marquis—Kun believed Li Tianyun had a far greater chance of reaching the fourth tier.

—

“The third method of entering the Heroic Realm… is probably the simplest one.”

Kun sighed softly.

Some people spent their entire lives chasing something they could never obtain.

Others grasped it effortlessly.

Such was fate.

—

The first method was the hardest.

A human would need to accumulate power equivalent to thirty peers within their short lifespan to break through without external aid.

The second method was somewhat easier:

Reach the third-tier bottleneck, fuse with a high-tier bloodline, awaken it—and break through.

The third method?

The simplest.

Become his vassal.

—

A single step to heaven.

But the cost was immense.

One would become bound to a superior, unable to surpass them, forever limited to the same level at best.

Yet even so, how many powerful individuals trapped at the third-tier bottleneck would refuse such an opportunity?

Desire. Obsession. Reluctance.

The pursuit of unmatched power and supreme authority—such people existed everywhere, at all times.

With this ability, Kun could easily build an army of third- and fourth-tier powerhouses within a few years.

Forget the Dansu Kingdom—even conquering the entire continent and rebuilding an empire rivaling the ancient Elven Empire was not impossible.

—

But Kun would never do it.

The reason was simple.

It didn’t align with his ideals.

And… he had a slight aversion.

—

Power came with responsibility.

To wear the crown, one must bear its weight.

Kun was neither a tyrant nor a ruthless conqueror.

As an Abundance Mage, reverence for nature and respect for life formed the core of who he was.

Moreover, while the Mark of Abundance could grant him control over his vassals’ lives and deaths, allowing him to quickly gain immense power…

Its first segment was called Grafting.

The thought of grafting countless strange individuals onto himself—not physically, but spiritually—made him deeply uncomfortable.

A plant grafted with another still retained its original traits.

But graft too many together?

Like mixing too many colors, everything would eventually turn black.

Or chaos.

At that point…

Would he still be himself?

Kun didn’t know.

But he knew one thing—there was no such thing as a free lunch.

The more one gained, the greater the cost.

Just like the seed-fusion ability granted by the Mark of Abundance—he had already spent countless trips between worlds, along with immense time, energy, and gold.

—

So this third method of reaching the Heroic Realm…

Kun chose to bury it deep within his heart.

A secret known only to one person was a true secret.

He wouldn’t even tell Li Tianyun.

After all, it was only a matter of time before Li Tianyun reached the point where his third-tier warrior strength would feed back into his Blue Star body.

Sooner or later—it made no difference.