Journey to Become the Zenith

The Shape of the Soul

Hearing what the other two said made Anos sigh.

’So that’s how most of my incarnations acted... confidence bordering on arrogance.’

The thought drifted quietly through his mind as he looked between Azriel and Budha.

Honestly, he could understand it.

Strength naturally bred pride.

A being who stood at the peak of countless worlds would never easily lower their head. Especially incarnations like Azriel, whose very existence radiated overwhelming confidence and battle mania.

Still...

Anos rubbed his temple lightly.

’Overreacting this much over a bow and one ”please” is ridiculous.’

The white world around them remained endless and silent, like a realm detached from reality itself. No wind. No sound. Just an infinite pale horizon stretching forever beneath their feet.

Azriel finally stopped laughing after a while, though the amused grin still remained on his face.

”You really are strange,” the vampire emperor muttered while shaking his head. ”Every incarnation has their own personality, but this is still abnormal.”

Budha calmly nodded in agreement.

”There is more restraint within you.”

”That’s because unlike you lunatics, I can actually hold a conversation without trying to start a war every five seconds,” Anos replied dryly.

Azriel looked offended immediately.

”That’s slander.”

”You literally attacked me within minutes of meeting me.”

”That was a greeting.”

Anos stared at him silently.

Budha sighed softly while closing his eyes for a brief moment, clearly already used to Azriel’s nonsense.

”Fine,” Anos finally said while waving his hand dismissively. ”Let’s stop talking about that already and just teach me.”

The moment he spoke in a rougher tone again, both Azriel and Budha visibly relaxed.

”There it is,” Azriel said with satisfaction. ”Now that sounds like someone sharing our soul.”

Budha slowly nodded.

”Yes. That feels more natural.”

A vein almost bulged on Anos’ forehead.

Talking to these people honestly felt like arguing with reflections of himself that somehow developed separate personalities.

Annoying reflections.

Azriel crossed his arms while grinning.

”For a second there, I thought you were becoming too mature.”

”I regret asking politely already,” Anos muttered.

Budha actually chuckled softly at that.

The monk then stepped forward calmly, the loose sleeves of his gray robes swaying lightly despite the still air. His expression slowly turned serious.

”Very well,” Budha said. ”Then let us begin properly.”

Even Azriel stopped joking afterward.

Anos straightened slightly.

For the first time since entering this strange realm within his soul, genuine anticipation rose inside him—not for battle this time, but knowledge.

Real knowledge.

The kind that could change the foundation of his strength itself.

Budha raised one hand slowly.

”First,” he began calmly, ”you must understand what Zenith Aura truly is.”

The moment those words were spoken, the atmosphere subtly shifted.

Even Azriel’s expression became more focused.

Anos narrowed his golden eyes.

Budha continued.

”Zenith Aura is not mana.”

”It is not magic.”

”It is not elemental energy.”

The monk’s voice remained gentle, yet every word carried unusual weight.

”Zenith Aura is the manifestation of one’s existence itself.”

Anos’ brows furrowed slightly.

Existence?

Budha seemed to notice his confusion immediately.

”In simple terms,” he explained, ”Zenith Aura is born when the body, mind, will, instincts, emotions, and soul begin moving as one.”

As he spoke, Budha slowly clenched his hand.

A faint invisible pressure spread outward.

Anos instantly felt it.

No mana fluctuation.

No elemental force.

Yet somehow... the space around Budha felt heavier.

”As martial artists continue pursuing perfection,” Budha continued, ”they sharpen not only their body, but their very being. Every battle, every hardship, every near-death experience tempers the soul itself.”

Azriel smirked slightly from the side.

”In short,” he added lazily, ”people who survive enough insanity eventually awaken it.”

Budha ignored him completely.

”When someone reaches a certain threshold,” the monk continued calmly, ”their spirit begins influencing reality directly. That influence is what we call Zenith Aura.”

Anos listened carefully.

Unlike mana, which gathered external energy and shaped it through spells or control...

This sounded far more personal.

More primal.

Budha continued speaking.

”Mana comes from the world around you.”

”Zenith Aura comes from you.”

The sentence alone made Anos’ eyes sharpen slightly.

Now that...

That was interesting.

Budha slowly raised two fingers.

”Some cultivate the body first until their soul follows.”

”Others cultivate the soul until the body adapts.”

”And some train both simultaneously.”

”No matter the method... they all eventually reach the same destination.”

As he spoke, Budha lightly tapped his own chest.

”The awakening of Zenith Aura.”

Anos remained thoughtful.

Suddenly, many things began connecting together in his mind.

Azriel’s overwhelming presence during battle.

The strange pressure surrounding his attacks.

The feeling that his swordsmanship itself carried unnatural weight.

All of it...

Was related to this power.

Still, something bothered him.

Anos frowned slightly before speaking.

”I’m confused.”

Budha stopped.

”If what you’re saying is true,” Anos continued slowly, ”then why haven’t I been able to use Zenith Aura?”

His golden eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

”I reached the peak of martial combat long ago. My swordsmanship, instincts, body control, combat awareness... none of them should be lacking.”

Honestly speaking, Demon Lord Anos had surpassed ordinary martial standards ages ago.

So why?

Budha answered calmly.

”The reason you cannot naturally awaken Zenith Aura... is because you understand mana too deeply.”

Anos blinked once.

”...What?”

Azriel smirked immediately like he had been waiting for this reaction.

Budha calmly continued.

”Since birth, your perception has been influenced by mana. Your senses adapted to it. Your instincts adapted to it. Your understanding of power itself became centered around mana.”

”That still doesn’t explain anything,” Anos replied immediately.

Budha nodded patiently.

”Mana and Zenith Aura feel similar at the beginning.”

That sentence instantly caught Anos’ attention.

”Mana flows through the world,” Budha explained. ”Zenith Aura flows from existence itself. To inexperienced perception, the difference between them is extremely subtle.”

The monk slowly walked forward while speaking.

”A child born in a world filled with mana naturally learns to perceive mana first.”

”Over time, the body begins treating mana as the answer to power.”

”Eventually... the person unconsciously ignores everything else.”

Anos slowly understood.

”So because I already understood mana,” he muttered, ”I failed to notice Zenith Aura.”

”Correct,” Budha answered calmly.

Anos frowned deeper.

”Then why can Azriel use both?”

Azriel grinned proudly.

”Because I’m talented.”

Budha sighed.

”The real reason,” he corrected calmly, ”is because Azriel awakened Zenith Aura before understanding mana.”

The vampire emperor pointed proudly at himself anyway.

”Still talented.”

Budha ignored him again.

”When someone awakens Zenith Aura first,” the monk explained, ”their existence already recognizes the distinction between internal and external power.”

”But for those raised with mana first...”

His gaze landed on Anos.

”They must learn to separate the two manually.”

The white world became silent afterward.

Anos slowly processed everything.

Honestly...

It sounded difficult.

No.

Not difficult.

Absurd.

Mana had been part of his existence for so long that distinguishing it from something similar sounded nearly impossible.

As if someone asked him to separate instinct from breathing.

Budha suddenly smiled faintly.

”However...”

Anos looked up again.

”You possess extraordinary perception.”

Azriel nodded in agreement.

”Ridiculously monstrous perception.”

Budha folded his hands behind his back.

”So while this task would take others decades... you will likely grasp it quickly.”

Anos exhaled slowly.

At least that was reassuring.

Still, he noticed something strange.

Budha’s expression had subtly changed.

The calm saint-like smile from earlier slowly disappeared.

Then—

A sharp grin appeared on the monk’s face.

It was not gentle.

Not peaceful.

Not holy.

It was the exact same dangerous smile every incarnation seemed to show whenever battle or growth excited them.

Even his eyes changed slightly.

Azriel immediately burst into laughter beside him.

”There it is!”

The vampire emperor pointed at Budha excitedly.

”I was waiting for the monk’s real face to appear!”

Anos stared at Budha silently.

Then he sighed internally.

’So even this guy is battle-crazy underneath.’