Adrian was in the second stage of consciousness mastery. It was a monumental realization, but his mind, shaped by a lifetime of constant struggle, survival, and relentless curiosity, did not linger on the triumph for long.
If the second stage allowed him to physically manipulate the world with mere intent and create a pressure to break the authority techniques of his enemies, what terrifying powers lay hidden within the third, fourth, and fifth stages?
He turned his attention back to the floating holographic display of the UNI-OS interface. The golden glow of the display illuminated his face as he scrolled past the detailed breakdown of the Anchor stage, his eyes hungry for the next revelation.
According to the information, the third stage, known as the Weave, was an echelon of mental supremacy reached only when a cultivator became intimately, almost terrifyingly familiar with their own willforce. It was not a stage one could simply blunder into by accumulating a massive ocean of willforce. It required a refinement of the mind that turned a blunt instrument into a surgeon's scalpel.
The text elaborated on the differences. The Anchor stage, for all its oppressive weight and undeniable power, was ultimately classified as a crude execution of dense willforce. When an Anchor-stage cultivator exerted their mental pressure, they were essentially dropping a boulder into a calm lake. It created a massive, disruptive splash. It suppressed the surrounding environment, made it exponentially more difficult for an enemy to channel their mana, and forced their opponents to burn through their own willforce just to sustain their authority techniques.
But, in the end, it was still a crude, unrefined method. Because it lacked precision, an Anchor-stage cultivator could not fully, cleanly stop an opponent's authority technique if the opponent was willing to simply brute-force the execution by sacrificing immense amounts of energy. The Anchor stage was a war of attrition, a battle of mental gravity. It was essentially not the full mastery of willforce in any way.
"That makes sense," Adrian thought.
The text continued, outlining the terrifying reality of Stage Three.
Once a cultivator spends extreme amounts of time in the Anchor stage, often millions of years meditating, refining, and testing the limits of their consciousness, they can slowly master their willforce. They learn complex willforce techniques that do not rely on sheer weight, but on structural manipulation. They learn to utilize their willforce to an extreme extent, threading it like invisible needles through the fabric of a battlefield. Finally, if one has reached this full mastery, they ascend to the third stage.
One can easily identify if they have mastered their willforce or not through an incredibly simple metric.
Because willforce is the fundamental energy that drives everything and even authority commands, a cultivator who has reached the Weave stage can actually sense the formation of an opponent's intent and, before the enemy can manifest their domain, before they can bend reality to their whim, a Weave-stage master can inject threads of their own willforce directly into the enemy's mind. With it, they could selectively sever the opponent's concentration.
This surgical strike causes the enemy's complex divine spells or layered rule modifications to collapse mid-execution. It effectively strips them of their ability to mold reality before the clash even begins. The opponent is left holding a shattered spell, their mana backfiring, their intent severed like cut puppet strings.
This was the true power of someone in the third stage.
Adrian sat back, his mind racing as he ran simulations of such a power in his head. If he had faced a Weave-stage master during his supremacy war in Andromeda, the outcome could have been entirely different. If he had tried to use Absolute Source Order, a Weave-stage master wouldn't have tried to overpower the command. They would have sensed the intent forming in Adrian's mind and injected a thread of willforce to sever his concentration, causing the technique to unravel before it ever left his mind.
It was a terrifying, almost invincible advantage. To defeat an enemy before they could even draw their sword. To render their most devastating divine concepts entirely useless by simply snipping the thought that commanded them.
But as Adrian sat there, marveling at the broken nature of the Weave stage, a sudden, logical doubt began to take root in his mind.
"If willforce is this supreme," Adrian pondered, his brow furrowing, "if a third-stage master can simply shut down an opponent's mind and prevent them from casting any divine spell or authority technique... then what is the point of anything else?"
Why spend millions of years comprehending arcane concepts? Why endure the agonizing pain of shattering essence seeds to forge a Rule Core? Why bother expanding the Mana Sea to hundreds of millions of units, or refining the physical body? If a master of consciousness could just look at an opponent and sever their concentration, rendering their mana and divine concepts entirely inert, then the entire foundation of the universe's cultivation system seemed redundant.
It felt like a paradox. The universe was ruthless, optimizing for survival and power. If consciousness was the only thing that truly mattered in the end, the Great Sects would have abandoned mana cultivation entirely and focused solely on the mind. Yet, they hadn't. The Void Emperor himself, a Divine Stage sovereign, had spoken of mana, body, and concepts with equal reverence.
Before Adrian could spiral further into this philosophical trap, he noticed an attached annotation blinking at the bottom of the holographic page. It was a personal note from Hestia.
A fond smile touched Adrian's lips. Of course, she had anticipated this. Hestia had likely stumbled upon the exact same logical paradox that Adrian had just encountered. Knowing that Adrian would inevitably question this, she had thoughtfully attached a section of her own research and deductions to the file.
Adrian tapped the annotation, expanding Hestia's notes.
"I know what you are thinking, Adrian. You are wondering why anyone would bother with mana or divine concepts if the third stage of consciousness makes them seemingly obsolete. I asked myself the same question when I read this. But the truth of the universe is never that one-dimensional."
Adrian chuckled softly, reading her words. It was as if she were standing right next to him, lecturing him with that familiar, stern yet warm tone.
"The mana, the divine concepts, the authority techniques, even the physical body refinement, nothing is in any way abandoned or useless," Hestia's notes continued. "These things, combined with one's lifelong experience, are precisely what developed one's consciousness in the first place. A mind does not grow in a vacuum. It grows by commanding mana, by wrestling with the laws of reality, by enduring the physical and mental strain of holding a divine concept together. The third stage is not the end of the journey of consciousness, nor is it a replacement for the rest of cultivation. If someone stopped advancing in other fields to focus solely on willforce, their future growth would stagnate entirely."
Hestia's analysis cut deep into the core of the issue.
"And this is not just theoretical. Consider a real fight between two Astral Stage cultivators. A battle is not just two cultivators floating in the void, simply staring at each other and engaging in a pure tug-of-war of the mind."
"If one cultivator has superior divine concepts, deeper mana reserves, or more highly refined authority techniques, they can dominate their enemy regardless of a slight disadvantage in willforce. If an opponent attempts to inject a thread of willforce into your mind to sever your concentration, but your divine concept is of an Ultimate-tier and your mana flow is an unstoppable ocean, the sheer metaphysical weight of your foundation can act as a bulwark. You can force the technique through the mental interference, or your superior mana can absorb the shock of the severed connection and instantly reignite the spell."
"A fight is never a contest of pure willforce."
Adrian sat back, exhaling a long, slow breath as the logic of Hestia's deduction washed over him.
It made perfect sense. It was the missing piece of the puzzle that tied everything he had learned from the Void Emperor together.
This was exactly why the Divine Stage classification existed. It wasn't just about pushing one single aspect of existence to the apex; it was about pushing everything and mastering everything about a person.
Consciousness was not the only part that defined a living being. A cultivator's physical body, the vastness of their mana, the depth of their comprehension of arcane concepts, and the authority that came with it, everything together made someone who they truly were.
These pillars of cultivation were never a waste. They complemented one another. A resilient body anchored a vast mana sea. A vast mana sea fueled world-shattering divine concepts. Mastering those concepts tempered the willforce. And refined willforce allowed for the flawless execution of those concepts. They could only grow together in harmony. If one pillar was weak, the entire structure would eventually collapse under the pressure of the higher realms.
With his doubts entirely cleared regarding the third stage and the balance of cultivation, Adrian felt a renewed hunger for knowledge. He reached out to the holographic interface, intending to scroll down and uncover the secrets of the fourth stage, the Illusory, and the fifth stage, the Cosmic Horizon.
He swiped his hand downward.
But what he still saw was just Hestia's notes continuing more and more.
"This is the limit of what is available for us," Hestia's note read, "According to my research, information regarding anything beyond the third stage of consciousness is strictly classified. This is due to our current access level. We only have access to premium networks managed by Major Sects."
Adrian read on as Hestia explained the harsh political and informational realities of the universe.
"According to the data I was able to cross-reference and verify, usually, the leaders of Lesser Major Sects are generally in the second stage, the Anchor."
"The leaders of Upper Major Sects, the true overlords of the galactic clusters, typically stand at the third stage, the Weave. Because the Astral Archive Pavilion Network is, at the end of the day, operated by a Major Sect, the third stage is their limit of publicly archived, verifiable knowledge. They simply do not possess, or refuse to digitize, the truths of the fourth and fifth stages."
Adrian stared at the glowing text, the realization settling over him. The universe was meticulously gated. Knowledge was hoarded not just by price, but by sheer existential hierarchy.
"To get more information," Hestia's final note concluded, "we would need access to the highest-tier premium networks, like the Heaven-Weaving Pavilion Network, which is operated directly by the Great Sects. But as you already know, access to those networks cannot be bought. They are strictly invite-only. Until the Origin Sect or the Crimson Vital Sect draws the formal, official recognition of a Great Sect's inner circle, we have no options for now."
The annotation faded away, leaving Adrian staring at the locked interface.
He leaned back in his chair, staring up at the vaulted ceiling of his private chamber.
He was currently in the second stage. To reach the third stage, he would need to spend an unfathomable amount of time refining his willforce, familiarizing himself with it, and learning how to thread it into the minds of his enemies. And even if he accomplished that, the stages beyond remained a complete mystery, locked behind the gates of the Great Sects.
"Invite only," Adrian muttered, a dark, challenging smile slowly curving his lips.
The Void Emperor had offered him a golden ticket into that world, and he had thrown it back in his face. He had chosen the hard path. He had chosen to build his own foundation, to hide in the shadows, and to force the universe to acknowledge the Origin Sect on his own terms. And now, he had to face the consequences of his actions.
If the Heaven-Weaving Pavilion Network required an invitation, then he would simply have to create a situation where they had no choice but to invite him. The Willforce Recovery Artifacts were just the beginning. Once his hidden manufacturing base in the Virelith Galaxy was fully operational, once the Origin Ink began to quietly subvert the economic monopolies of the Major Sects, the ripples would eventually reach the very top.
Until then, he had to focus on what he could control. He had to master the Anchor stage. He had to prepare his customized divine concept for the Origin Sect. And he had to ensure that when the universe finally turned its full, terrifying gaze toward the Andromeda Galaxy, he and his people were ready to stare back.
With a flick of his wrist, Adrian dismissed the UNI-OS interface. The golden light vanished, plunging the room back into the soft, ambient glow of the Crimson Spire.