The yellow stone in her hand cast a pale halo, illuminating jagged rocks and the faint glimmer of moss along the cave walls. Water dripped steadily, echoing through the cavern like a metronome for a world without sun, without day, without time.

  [Ruins of Marlow, Floor 20]

  A system prompt appeared. She smirked. “Is this some cliché dungeon prompt?”

  She adjusted the tattered linen wraps around her chest and hips, knees brushing gritty stone as she walked. The faint stir of stale air—a reminder she was alive—tickled her roots. Hastily, she opened her status screen.

  [Spiritual Energy: 0 / 100]

  “Of course,” she muttered, letting her voice echo faintly off the walls. “All the power in the world at my fingertips… and zero fuel.”

  Ahead, a quivering mass caught her eye. A green blob, glistening like a puddle of melted gems, bounced slightly in the dim light.

  [Race: Monster | Type: Slime | Level: 5]

  She stopped dead. “Oh, fantastic. A slime. Original. Never seen one of these in fantasy games before.”

  The gelatinous form lunged at her with startling speed, lashing over the ragged remnants of her linen wraps. The fabric tore and sizzled with acidic residue.

  “No! My… my only decent clothing!” she screamed, swiping at it with her rusted sword. Anger flared—hot, sharp, vicious. She couldn’t use her skills. Her Spiritual Energy stubbornly remained at zero.

  [Skill Use: Not possible | Spiritual Energy: 0 / 100]

  She slashed at it clumsily, but it avoided her and sloshed away.

  Grabbing a fist-sized rock, she muttered, “Fine. Let’s see how basic combat works.”

  With all her strength, she hurled it. The rock struck the slime, denting it slightly.

  The slime quivered, bulging toward her, mass oozing over the ruined cloth again. She leaped backward, swiping her sword to push it away, narrowly avoiding being engulfed.

  “Obvious starter enemy, and absolutely destroying my wardrobe. Perfect. Love this world already.”

  Another rock flew, hitting the slime squarely. It split slightly, forcing her to duck and roll behind a jagged rock pillar.

  Frustration bubbled over. “I swear… if this thing ruins every last scrap of fabric I own, I’m going to—”

  The slime surged again. She dodged, rolled, lunged for another rock, scraping her bare hands against the stone floor. Each movement shredded what remained of her clothing. Desperation fueled her. She grabbed another jagged rock, swung, and finally the slime’s gelatinous form collapsed, leaving only a small puddle behind.

  “I really need something for ranged attacks next. No way I fight one of those so close again.”

  Her linen wraps were shredded to ribbons. Exhaling sharply, wincing at the exposure, she checked her status:

  [Level: 1 – (Lower Stage) Spiritual Energy Condensation]

  [Spiritual Energy: 0 / 100]

  “Of course. I defeat a dangerous slime and get… nothing. Fabulous.” Rage flared again, echoing that first system-mocking frustration from the void.

  She sank to the ground, crossing her legs over the rough stone to calm herself. Her spirit roots reached out instinctively.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  Unnoticed. Slowly. Painfully slowly.

  Minutes passed, and Spiritual Energy trickled faintly, teasing her with incremental growth. First 1, then 2.

  After an hour of trying to calm herself, she noticed changes in her body. Opening her Status, she was stunned.

  [Spiritual Energy: 10 / 100]

  “Ugh… you really enjoy making this slow, don’t you?” she muttered, rubbing her temples. “Fine. Step by step. Patience. But seriously… ten points an hour?”

  Pressing onward, she reached new terrain after a few hours. Broken beams, jagged columns, faint drips of water, dust swirling in the dim light—every step careful. The cave opened into ruins. Her spirit roots tugged at the Spiritual Energy in the air in tiny threads, as if the ruins themselves were alive, waiting.

  Then a growl echoed, low and menacing. Shadows flickered. A massive shape emerged from the gloom.

  [Race: Monster | Type: Direwolf | Level: 30]

  Her heart stuttered. This wasn’t a beginner. Not a slime. This was a predator that could tear her apart in moments.

  The wolf noticed her immediately and lunged. She stumbled back, barely dodging as teeth snapped where her shoulder had been moments before. Her pulse thundered in her ears.

  She had zero usable skills. Spiritual Energy had stopped trickling the moment she lost focus.

  “Great. Level 30 killer dog, no energy, shredded clothes, and a rusted sword… and I’m expected to survive?!”

  A desperate thought flared: Void Flower Steps. She focused on the phantom lotus bloom—but it fizzled as she dodged another lunge from the oversized mutt. Rolling, she dashed behind the nearest pillar and dropped the yellow glowing stone, hoping it hadn’t noticed.

  To her dismay, the wolf sniffed her direction, preparing to lunge again.

  “Of course, it can smell me!”

  Breathing ragged, heart hammering, she ducked behind rubble, rolling with each step to avoid its snapping jaws. She tried to feel Spiritual Energy within, hoping to activate a skill as she moved toward the corridor that looked like an exit.

  The wolf blocked her path, teeth bared, eyes intelligent and calculating. It lunged again. She dove, rolling over debris, slicing with her rusty sword just to distract it. Its claws scraped the stone near her.

  “Okay… okay… calm down… think,” she muttered. “Use the environment. Use your head. Don’t die.”

  She picked up a rock, hurled it, and it thudded against the floor, distracting the wolf. A slash from her sword barely nicked its shoulder.

  The wolf snarled, eyes locked on hers. Counting her steps mentally, she tracked the nearest pillar and loose debris. One final risk. One final gamble.

  Void Flower Steps.

  Her body shimmered, disappearing and reappearing at the corridor’s end behind the wolf as it skidded past, barking and snapping at empty air.

  She turned and ran, trying to make as little noise as possible, glancing back at a very confused Direwolf sniffing the ground.

  Minutes later, she collapsed against the cold stone wall, out of breath but alive.

  “Level 30,” she whispered, voice trembling. “Could have killed me in a heartbeat… and I survived because I got lucky, and my fancy flower trick finally worked.” She realized, “The side effect left a fragrance. It must have masked my scent.”

  Exhaling, fingers brushing the rusty sword, she remained cautious. Not ready to use her skills. Not yet.

  Spotting a stairwell leading upward, she moved toward it, deciding it was better than facing the distracted wolf again.

  After a few minutes of climbing, she emerged into a hallway littered with collapsed pillars and broken tiles. Dust motes glowed in the faint light. Creeping forward, she sensed the faint tug of Spiritual Energy from her roots.

  The hallway widened into a grand hall. Tall, cracked pillars rose toward the ceiling, ornate but battered by time. A central dais dominated the room, pale blue light illuminating a stone platform.

  The room was empty. Perfectly silent. Yet Spiritual Energy hummed—stronger, pulling.

  “I really hope this isn’t a boss room…” she murmured, moving cautiously. Every step made her realize the Spiritual Energy grew stronger the closer she got to the hall’s center.

  No creatures. No monsters. Perfectly still.

  “Boss fight room. Classic design. Except… no boss. Lovely. Creepy. Just my style,” she muttered, scanning pillars and dais. Her eyes narrowed.

  She adjusted shredded linen wraps, gripped her rusty sword, and tested her roots. Spiritual Energy flowed faintly but undeniably. Slowly. Agonizingly. Then a thought occurred.

  “The Spiritual Energy… closer to the center… maybe I can absorb more there?”

  Cautiously, she moved to the dais, settled cross-legged atop it, and closed her eyes.

  To her surprise, it was true. The slow trickle of Spiritual Energy amplified tenfold. A graceful smile tugged at her lips.

  Two skills. Minimal energy. Shattered clothing. A cave, a hall, a grand platform, and her first real understanding of her world.

  Exhaling, she let the weight settle in her chest. Determination coiled tight inside her.

  This was the first step of her life as a cultivator in Aldun, and she had found her first treasure.

  She took a breath and did the one thing she hoped she wouldn’t need to: begin her slow, tedious, and rather uncomfortable meditation.