Chapter 136: Model 2.0
The IAR headquarters in Milan, Italy, was a fortress disguised as a government building — grey stone exterior, narrow windows, mana-tech turrets hidden behind decorative cornices. It sat in the city’s financial district surrounded by normal office towers, deliberately unremarkable.
Lucian and Mickey arrived by train from Rome — a two-hour ride through the Italian countryside that Mickey spent entirely asleep while Lucian looked out the window.
"Why are you coming again?" Lucian asked as they approached the entrance.
"S-Rank weapon voucher, same as you." Mickey yawned. "Unlike some people, I didn’t already have an A-Rank sword. My old weapons got trashed long ago."
They passed through strict security — three checkpoints, identity verification, ability scanning, a brief detention in a sealed room while someone reviewed their credentials. Lucian’s Rising Star designation cleared every hurdle instantly. Mickey’s MVP status did the same.
An officer in a grey uniform led them through reinforced corridors and into a room that made Lucian stop in the doorway.
The treasury was massive — easily fifty meters long, lined with weapon racks, display cases, and floating pedestals. Swords. Spears. Axes. Bows. Daggers. Gauntlets. Armor. Each weapon radiated mana at a level that pressed against Lucian’s senses like a physical weight.
"You have ten minutes," the officer said, checking his watch. "Choose wisely."
Mickey was already moving, scanning the shelves with excited eyes. "Oh man, oh man — look at this thing — no, wait — that one—"
Lucian stuck to the sword section. He’d always been a swordsman. Allistar’s training, the Elipse Sword Art, Heaven’s Severance, Sword Intent — everything pointed to the blade. A different weapon type would waste months of foundational work.
He passed over ornate blades, curved sabers, massive greatswords. Then he stopped.
A longsword hung on a reinforced rack by itself — the weapons around it had been spaced further away, as if even the other S-Rank weapons didn’t want to touch it. The blade was slender, slightly longer than the Moon Shattering Blade, with a edge that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. Along the flat of the blade, from hilt to tip, ran thin lines of glowing script — runes etched so finely they looked like veins of captured lightning.
Lucian reached out and wrapped his fingers around the grip.
The runes flared. A pulse of energy traveled up his arm — not hostile, not painful, just assessing, like something was looking at him from the inside out. After two seconds, the runes dimmed to a steady soft glow.
"What’s this one called?" Lucian asked the officer.
The officer glanced over. His eyebrows rose slightly.
"Aethon. Runeforged S-Rank longsword. The runes along the blade are self-repairing inscriptions — the sword regenerates minor damage to its structure over time. The rune array also amplifies any mana channeled through it by fifteen percent and reduces the activation cost of sword-based techniques by ten percent." He paused. "It’s been in this vault for eleven years. Three people have tried to claim it. It rejected all three."
Lucian looked at the softly glowing runes.
"It seems it finally found the right person," the officer said quietly.
Mickey appeared beside him holding a pair of heavy gauntlets that crackled with contained energy. "Got mine! S-Rank pair — Kinetic Relay Gauntlets. They store the kinetic energy from blocked or parried attacks and release it on command..." He grinned. "I’m basically a battery with fists."
The officer led them out. As they walked back through the corridors, Mickey clapped Lucian on the shoulder.
"We should test these out. There’s a D-Rank dungeon near Milan — we could probably get a permit with our designations—"
"Not interested."
"Come on, man—"
"Maybe later."
Mickey sighed but let it go.
Five more days passed.
Lucian spent them training — Sword Intent comprehension with the shard, Light Weaving practice, Elipse Sword Art drills with Aethon’s rune amplification. The sword was a revelation. The fifteen percent mana amplification made every technique hit harder. The ten percent cost reduction meant he could practice longer. And the self-repairing runes meant he didn’t have to worry about damaging it during high-intensity sessions.
On the fifth night, alone in his hotel room, the system flashed.
Model 2.0 Migration — Complete.
System functions updating...
User interface restructuring...
New module integration
...
...
...
...
...
Migration successful. Welcome to Model 2.0.
Then something appeared in front of him.
Lucian jerked backward on the bed. "What the f—"
A small white figure — no taller than his hand — floating in the air. It had a vaguely humanoid shape but no distinct features. Just a smooth, glowing white form with two dots where eyes should be.
The eyes opened.
"Calm down," the figure said. Its voice was androgynous, calm, slightly amused. "It’s just me. The system. Given form."
Lucian stared at it. "You can talk?"
"Model 2.0 upgrade. This form isn’t physical — only you can see it. Think of me as a visual interface with personality."
Lucian’s expression was flat. "So what’s your use?"
"Well, unlike your old system version, it can speak freely, of course. And it’s also the smartest assistant you can ever get in the universe."
Lucian looked at it. "Now, I think you’re just bragging."
The system snorted. "Bragging? Me? I have access to the accumulated combat data of—"
"Don’t care."
"—over twelve thousand documented—"
"skip."
"—cultivation paths and—"
Lucian turned away and lay down on the bed.
The system snapped its fingers.
Lucian wasn’t on the bed anymore.
He was standing in a vast, empty space. White ground stretching in every direction. No ceiling — just an infinite fade into soft grey above. No walls. No features. Just emptiness and silence.
The white figure appeared beside him, floating at eye level.
"What the—"
"This is a personal training space," the system said, crossing its tiny arms. "Time here flows differently. Five times faster than the outside world. One hour in here equals five hours out there."
Lucian looked around. "There’s no mana here."
"Correct. You can’t cultivate in this space. But you can polish your skills and comprehension. Sword forms. Spell visualization. Combat scenarios I can simulate. Physical conditioning. Anything that doesn’t require actual mana."
Lucian held his jaw in thought.
"The time dilation function will increase as your bloodline seal drops," the system continued, floating in a slow circle around him. "At your current seal level, five times is the maximum. Lower the seal, higher the multiplier. The space adapts to your needs — if you want to practice sword forms, the environment will generate targets. If you want to test reaction speed, it will generate threats. It’s not physical training in the traditional sense, but comprehension gained here is real. Your body remembers what your mind learns."
Lucian looked at the empty white expanse. Then at the floating figure.
"I guess you are useful."
The system’s eye-dots widened slightly. Then it straightened in the air with a visibly proud expression.
"Yeah," it said, clearing its throat. "I almost forgot. Your rewards."
Notifications flashed.
Migration Complete — Reward Package:
5x Heaven Grade Astral Foundation Pills — Significantly accelerates mana core compression and strengthens the connection between core and meridians. Each pill reduces the time required for a single sub-realm breakthrough by approximately 30%. Effective up to Peak Core Realm.
The system floated closer. "Three of those should be enough for you to reach the Peak Core Realm within a year if your training stays consistent. You can give the last two to your partner."
Lucian nodded slowly.
"As for your second reward."
A small plant materialized in the system’s tiny hands — a dark crimson herb with veins that pulsed faintly, like a living heartbeat. The air around it shimmered.
"King Grade Bloodline Herb. When consumed, it directly reduces your bloodline seal by five percent. No conditions. No side effects. The herb is absorbed into the bloodline itself and dissolves a portion of the sealing mechanism."
Lucian stared at it.
He’d been chipping away at the seal one percent at a time through combat and quest rewards for months. And this single herb did five percent in one swallow.
The system held it out toward him.
Lucian took it.
As he was about to swallow it, the system stopped him as it explained, "After consuming the herb raw, you’re only getting about 5%," the system’s small white figure said, floating beside him in the training space. "But if you refine it into a pill using the Blood Lily Heart Core in your shadow storage alongside a few common herbs I can guide you through sourcing, the absorption efficiency increases. You’d get seven percent unsealing instead of five."
Lucian raised an eyebrow. "Seven percent?"
"The herb’s properties synergize with the Blood Lily Core during the refinement process. Raw consumption wastes some of the active compounds."
Lucian was quiet for a moment. "I’ll wait. Until I meet my master."
The system’s eye-dots narrowed. "You’re going to ask Allistar Flint to help you refine a bloodline herb?"
"He knows alchemy. I don’t."
"He might ask questions."
"Then I’ll deal with that when it happens."
The system sighed.
********************
The flight to New Geneva, Switzerland, took less than thirty minutes.
Three groups. Fifteen students from the European All-Star Academy, fifteen from the Chinese Vanguard Institute, and eight from the American Apex Academy — the third-place finishers had been invited as a reward for the top three academies. The aircraft was a military transport retrofitted for passenger use, utilitarian benches along the walls, mana-tech stabilizers humming beneath the floor.
Lucian sat near the back. Across the aisle, Rose and Clara were chatting happily — the tension from the morning after the party had apparently dissolved into whatever "girl talk" had happened in that restaurant. Rose was gesturing animatedly about something. Clara listened with a small smile, her silver slit-pupil eyes softer than usual.
Ryan sat beside Lucian, reviewing notes on his tablet. Mickey was three rows up, already asleep. Arthur sat at the front, speaking quietly with one of the Chinese Vanguard chaperones.
New Geneva appeared below them — a fortified megacity built into the ruins of old Switzerland, its walls visible even from altitude, a massive ring of reinforced stone and mana-tech barriers surrounding a city of towers, spires, and disciplined geometry. One of the World Government’s seat of power.
They landed at a military airfield on the city’s eastern edge. Security was immediate and thorough — identity checks, ability scans, weapon registration, a brief interrogation about their purpose in the city. The IAR authorization cleared everything, but the process still took forty minutes.