Myriad Heavens: Rise of the Rune God

Chapter 349: Chapter 4: Resource Allocation

A few hours earlier.

The Awakening Ceremony finally drew to a close in the early afternoon. The grand hall slowly emptied as the heavy bronze doors were thrown open. A crisp autumn breeze drifted in, carrying the scent of fallen leaves and distant spirit herbs.

Examiners moved through the remaining rows with practiced efficiency. Their datapads chimed in a steady rhythm as they scanned identity chips and directed students toward different exits according to their newly recorded ranks. The once-unified crowd of gray-robed teenagers began to split like water finding separate channels. The subtle currents of social hierarchy were already taking hold.

Ash followed the flow of students marked D, E, and F.

The group was significantly larger than the higher ranks, yet the atmosphere remained quiet and slightly awkward rather than hostile. Most simply kept their eyes forward. Their expressions showed a mix of mild resignation and quiet calculation.

In this era, open mockery had largely died out. The brutal reality of the portals and the mutated beasts beyond them had taught humanity a harsh lesson: tearing down a fellow human was a waste of potential manpower. People preferred to focus on their own long lives and cultivation instead of wasting energy putting others down.

Still, Ash could feel the subtle shift in how people looked at him. The polite smiles from the morning were gone, replaced by averted eyes and sympathetic, fleeting glances.

He didn’t mind the pity. What he minded was keeping his own expression neutral.

Inside his chest, the Boundless Origin Martial Soul was a roaring, euphoric storm. The residual cosmic energy was still settling into his meridians, making his skin tingle and his senses hyper-aware. He could hear the scuff of a shoe on the marble floor three rows ahead. He could smell the faint ozone scent of the Awakening Pillar lingering on the robes of the students in front of him. He had to actively suppress his aura, wrapping his consciousness tightly around the swirling nebula in his mindscape to prevent any of his overwhelming power from leaking out. It felt like trying to hold back a tidal wave with a thin screen door.

A short, freckled boy walking beside him muttered under his breath, ”E Rank... same as me. Guess we’re stuck in the slow lane.”

Ash glanced over and offered a small, easy smile. ”Slow lane still moves forward. Just takes a bit longer.”

The boy looked surprised, then managed a weak chuckle. ”Yeah. I guess.”

Rylan caught up with him near the side exit, clapping a heavy, solid hand on his shoulder.

”Hey,” Rylan said, forcing a bright, reassuring grin. ”Don’t let the letter get to you. E Rank just means we get more time to catch up on shows while I drag you along. Deal still stands.”

Ash looked at his friend. Rylan already looked different. The B-Rank martial soul he had awakened — a heavy earthen tortoise — had begun to subtly alter his physiology. His shoulders seemed a fraction broader. His stance felt more grounded. Even his skin held a faint, healthy vitality that hadn’t been there yesterday.

Ash returned the smile easily, slipping back into the warm, unbothered persona he always wore. ”I’ll hold you to it. Go on, they’re calling the higher ranks. Don’t keep your new instructors waiting.”

Rylan hesitated for a second. His brow furrowed slightly, as if he wanted to say more. Then he nodded and jogged off toward the opposite corridor.

Ash watched him go, feeling a brief, genuine pang of affection mixed with a strange sense of distance. Rylan was a good friend, but the gap between a B-Rank and whatever Ash had become was already insurmountable. In a few years, Rylan would probably be a respected captain in the vanguard. Ash, if he played his cards right, would be an untouchable, centuries-old anomaly.

In the distance, he caught a clear view of the elite group being led away with far more ceremony.

Lira Voss walked near the front. Her ice-affinity Spirit Root caused the air around her to shimmer with faint frosty mist. Beside her moved Kael Draven, the quiet dark horse who had shocked everyone with an S-Rank. The air around Kael didn’t just shimmer — it warped, bending light and sound as his unrefined power leaked into the environment. Senior instructors flanked them, their postures almost deferential as they guided the prodigies toward the eastern wing of the academy.

That path led to the luxury suites, the private training grounds, and the direct mentorship of the Academy’s elders.

Ash’s group was directed west.

They were led across a sprawling courtyard. The autumn wind tugged at their robes. A few students talked in low voices about the ranks they had received. Others walked in silence, already calculating how hard they would need to work to make up for a low starting point.

Eventually the group entered a large, functional hall lined with distribution counters. The architecture here was brutalist and purely utilitarian — exposed steel beams, polished concrete floors, and harsh, shadowless lighting. The process was orderly and impersonal. One by one, low-rank students stepped forward to have their identity chips updated and to collect their starter packages.

When Ash’s turn came, a tired-looking staff member scanned his chip. The holographic display above the counter flashed the dull gray letters: E Rank.

The staff member’s posture relaxed almost imperceptibly. The polite, professional tension vanished, replaced by the bored efficiency reserved for the bottom of the barrel.

”Sign here,” the man muttered, sliding a digital pad across the counter.

Ash signed with a steady hand.

In return, he received a small, standard-issue spatial pouch. He didn’t need to open it to know exactly what was inside, but he unsealed the drawstring anyway and ran his fingers over the contents.

First came a basic set of academy-issued combat robes. He pulled one out. The fabric was a dull slate gray, rougher to the touch than the silk-like materials worn by the elite. But as he rubbed the material between his thumb and forefinger, he felt the faint, rhythmic hum of light energy-conductive threads woven into the seams. It was basic, but it would protect him from minor elemental backlash.

Next was a simple but well-crafted weapon of his choice which he had selected in a form he filled days ago. Ash had selected a straight longsword after a moment’s thought.

He drew it slightly from its scabbard. The steel was cold, matte-finished to prevent glare, and perfectly balanced. As his fingers wrapped around the leather-bound hilt, the Boundless Origin in his soul gave a soft, satisfied purr. A microscopic thread of his boundless qi accidentally slipped down his arm and into the blade.

The steel instantly began to vibrate, emitting a high-pitched whine as the metal struggled to contain the sheer density of the energy.

Ash’s eyes widened slightly. He quickly severed the flow of qi, pulling his power back into his meridians. The sword settled. The whining faded into silence.

Careful, he reminded himself. My baseline output is too high. If I’m not careful, I’ll shatter standard-issue gear just by holding it.

Beneath the sword was a small velvet pouch. He peeked inside and saw his monthly stipend of low-grade energy crystals. They were cloudy, jagged stones, lacking the translucent clarity of mid-grade crystals. But to his newly awakened, hyper-sensitive perception, he could see the faint, sluggish pulse of energy trapped within their lattices. It was enough for slow, steady cultivation if used carefully.

Finally, at the bottom of the pouch, was the standard cultivation manual issued to nearly every student in the academy: the Seven Star Martial Cultivation Technique.

Ash pulled it out and turned it over in his hands. The cover was plain, bound in durable synthetic leather, but the contents were anything but ordinary.

The technique had been created centuries ago by a Martial Saint Realm powerhouse — an existence capable of bursting stars like balloons with a single flick of a finger. Because the method was exceptionally compatible with human physiology after the cosmic energy transformation, it had been adopted as the default foundational method across most of the continent. It could carry a cultivator all the way to the seventh realm of the Martial Path, the Martial Sovereign Realm. The technique was divided into seven distinct sections, each corresponding to one major realm, allowing steady progression without the need to constantly hunt for new manuals in the early and middle stages.

In this world, martial techniques, battle arts, and cultivation methods were treated very differently from the stories Ash had read in his favorite cultivation novels.

There was almost no tradition of jealously gatekeeping knowledg-techniques or manual. High-level techniques were certainly more expensive, requiring more contribution points or larger sums of currency, but even those were priced more like a good vehicle an average family could buy, than some irreplaceable sacred treasure. Basic and intermediate and some advnced methods like the Seven Star were distributed freely or at negligible cost.

Humanity had learned the hard way that the more people who could cultivate effectively, the stronger the species became against the existential threats beyond the portals. Keeping powerful methods locked away in the hands of a few elite families, clans, sect or countries only weakened the collective defense. In this era, hoarding knowledge wasn’t a sign of power. It was considered a crime against the survival of the species.

Ash accepted the manual and the rest of his resources without complaint or visible disappointment. To the staff member, he was just another average E-Rank student collecting average supplies, already forgotten as the next student stepped up to the counter.

Internally, however, his thoughts were already elsewhere, racing with a quiet, thrilling anticipation.

The academy’s ranking system, the quality of the dorms, the grade of the crystals — none of it truly mattered. His real foundation did not depend on what the testing pillar had displayed or what the academy decided to hand him. The Seven Star technique was a masterpiece, and with the Boundless Origin processing the energy, he wouldn’t need the high-grade crystals the S-Ranks were currently fighting over. His soul would refine the impurities out of the low-grade stones effortlessly.

He could barely wait to return to his dorm room, lock the door, and finally examine the Boundless Origin Martial Soul in complete privacy. He needed to understand its limits, its abilities, and how it interacted with the Seven Star method.

That was where his actual path would begin.

And for the first time in his life, Ash knew with absolute certainty that he was going to live long enough to see how every single story ended.

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