Chapter 67: Chapter 67: The Crown I’ll Claim
When Julian’s eyes opened, sunlight was already spilling through his curtains.
Morning.
He pushed himself out of bed, every movement automatic, and went straight into his workout routine. Push-ups. Squats. Core drills. For hours, his body moved like a machine—
But his mind wasn’t there.
His emotions kept spiking and dipping like waves in a storm.
Anger.
Revenge.
The fire from last night’s dream still burned, coiling in his chest, refusing to fade.
His heart thudded against his ribs like a war drum, each beat sending a dull heat crawling up his neck.
Every breath was shallow, ragged—not from exertion, but from the pressure inside him, a pressure with nowhere to go.
Focus slipped through his fingers, yet he forced himself to keep going—hoping sweat might wash away the fury. It didn’t.
By the time he dragged himself into the bathroom, steam from the shower clung to his skin. The water pounded against him, but the tension in his muscles didn’t ease.
When he stepped out, toweling his hair, Crest was already at the dining table.
She was pouring tea when her eyes flicked up to him—sharp, assessing.
"There’s something wrong?" she asked, voice calm but edged.
Julian pulled out a chair, sitting opposite her.
"Nothing," he said. Too quickly. Too flat.
Even as the word left his mouth, his jaw clenched until his teeth ached. The lie was bitter, sour on his tongue, but the weight in his chest made the truth feel heavier still.
The lie tasted bitter, but he wasn’t ready to spill what was clawing at him.
Usually, they’d talk during breakfast—about matches, training, goals.
Today, Crest didn’t press. She just ate in silence, as if sensing that any push might make him shut down further.
Her gaze lingered, though, like she was watching for cracks in his armor.
Julian finished eating, said nothing, and rose from the table.
Back in his room, he sat in lotus position.
Breathed in.
Breathed out.
Slowly, deliberately, he began circulating the soul power in his core.
One cycle...
Two cycles...
His awareness slipped inward, deeper, until the world around him dissolved.
When his eyes opened again, he wasn’t in his room.
He was standing in the vast emptiness of his subconscious—
And a voice greeted him.
"You came?"
Julian turned.
A shadow stepped forward. No—
Not just a shadow.
It was him.
Not the boy in the mirror now, but the man he had been before reincarnation. The Ashen Emperor.
The figure smiled without warmth.
"Really? This is where you’ve ended up? Playing football? Forgetting me?"
Julian’s eyes narrowed.
"...A heart demon?" His voice was quiet, but it carried steel.
The shadow’s smirk widened, its presence pressing in heavier, suffocating, like the sky before a storm.
This was the first time Julian had truly drawn on his soul power for cultivation—
And he knew what that meant.
From his past life, the rules were clear:
When soul cultivation reached a threshold, a heart demon would manifest.
Defeat it, and you stepped into the next realm of power.
Fail... and your soul would be erased, your body stolen.
Julian hadn’t realized he was already at that point.
Maybe that was why his consciousness had been pulled back to his old world in his dreams.
A side effect of brushing the next level.
A flicker of curiosity cut through his focus.
What kind of soul cultivation have I stumbled into here?
The shadow—his old self—tilted its head.
"Already thinking of finishing me off?" Dark Julian’s tone dripped mockery.
"Yeah." Julian’s reply was calm, absolute.
The smirk twisted into something sharper.
"Then let’s skip the speeches. Either I replace you—"
Dark Julian’s aura detonated outward—"—or you die here."
He blurred forward, his fist cutting through the air with the speed of a killing blow.
But Julian was a prodigy.
He didn’t just block—he caught the strike mid-swing, fingers clamping around the heart demon’s knuckles like an iron vice.
"You really think," Julian said, voice low and dangerous, "you can touch me?"
Power surged from his core like a rocket igniting.
The aura of a ruler—dense, oppressive, undeniable—erupted from him, sending shockwaves tearing through the void.
Dark Julian was forced back, boots skidding across the nothingness.
He recovered in an instant, twisting his body into a vicious spinning kick aimed at Julian’s temple.
The blow came so close that Julian felt the heat of displaced air graze his cheek.
He ducked, driving a counter-punch toward Dark Julian’s ribs—only for the shadow to catch it, their fists locking in a crushing stalemate that made the very void groan around them.
He glanced at his trembling fist, eyes narrowing.
Julian’s own eyes burned now, a blue-gold flame swirling around his irises. The fire spread across his body, wrapping him in a mantle of living light. His feet left the ground, his figure hovering like a war god descending.
"You," Julian’s voice echoed like it came from the heavens themselves, "a mere heart demon... think you can replace me?"
He raised his hand. The void quaked.
"Be gone—trash."
The golden-blue blaze surged outward in a tidal wave, engulfing the shadow.
Dark Julian’s form began to disintegrate, his limbs crumbling into ash, pieces of him scattered into nothingness.
But even as he faded, the shadow’s voice lingered—low, cold, jagged.
"Hahaha... truly, the Ashen Emperor. But I’ll be back... and next time, I will take your throne."
The last fragments of his body crumbled into dust, leaving only the echo of that mocking grin drifting through the void.
Light bled into Julian’s vision.
He inhaled sharply—lungs filling with the air of the real world. His body jolted as his consciousness slammed back into flesh and bone.
And then—
[ Congratulations, Host — Advancement in Cultivation Achieved ]
[ +50 Attribute Points ]
[ Battlefield Mind — Lv.2 ]
[ Martial Memory — Lv.2 ]
[ Rule The Pitch — Lv.2 ]
The notifications glimmered in his mind’s eye, bright enough to cut through the last fading traces of the dream realm.
Julian blinked them into focus, scanning each line like a general reviewing his spoils after a hard-fought war.
He distributed the 50 points with precision—every choice calculated.
...
User: Julian Ashford
Age: 17
State: Youth League
Title: None
Exp Point : 15
...
CORE ATTRIBUTES
► Strength : 20 to 25
► Agility : 21 to 25
► Stamina : 27 to 30
► Technique : 21 to 30
► Perception : 23 to 35
► Instinct : 23 to 35
► Charisma : 10 to 15
Total Stat : 195 (223)
...
Total Stat
None:
Skill
➤ [Battlefield Mind Lv.2] [0/200]
Type: Passive
Rank: Mystic
Your instincts sharpen beyond human limits; battlefields speak to you in every breath, shift, and sound.
➤ [ Martial Memory Lv.2 ] [0/200]
Type: Passive + Active
Rank: Mystic
Your body not only remembers it begins to refine every technique it recalls, blending them into this world’s rule
Passive Effect: +4 to all attributes
Active Effect: For 10 seconds, use any martial technique from your past life without consuming mana.
➤ [Rule The Pitch Lv.2] [0/200]
Type: Passive + Active
Rank: Mystic
The field itself bends to the pulse of your soul; your vitality radiates as a battlefield domain.
Passive Effect: Removes all disease from Julian’s body. now grants slow regeneration
Active Effect Rotate soul energy to temporarily boost to All attribute by +3 to +25.
Overuse may damage the body. Or you can focus the boost in one attribute for +3 to +25
➤ [Scan Lv.2] [0/50]
Type: Active
Rank: Rare
Effect: You can scan a person to view their attribute totals. You can see their best two attributes. You can see one of their skills.
➤ [Blood Furnace Lv.1] [0/50]
Type: Active
Rank: Legendary
Ignite the inner forge within your body, reinforcing muscle fibers, tendon elasticity, and cardiovascular output.
While active, all physical strain from other skills is reduced by 30%, stamina drain from high-intensity actions is halved, and recovery speed between bursts is doubled.
All physical strain from other skills reduced by 30% Stamina drain from high-intensity actions halved Recovery speed between bursts doubled
Duration: 5 minutes
Cooldown: 40 minutes
...
Julian exhaled slowly, letting the surge of power settle into his veins.
His body felt sharper, cleaner—like every cell had been scrubbed and reforged.
The noise in his head had vanished completely, replaced by a cool, steady hum.
Even his heartbeat sounded different—slower, heavier, like the beat of a war drum signaling the march of an unstoppable army.
The noise in his head, that constant thrum of anger and restless energy, had quieted to a faint echo.
For the first time since waking, his thoughts were steady.
This time... it was easy.
He leaned back, feeling the faint hum of his soul energy circulating.
If this was the path forward, maybe—just maybe—he could push further.
Maybe the gates to his old world would open again, and he could set foot in that palace once more...
But for now, he let the thought drift away.
For this moment, he would focus on what he could control—play football, dominate the field, and chase the title of the greatest of all time.
And when that crown was his, he would claim the one wish ASHI had already promised him.
And under his breath, so soft it was almost lost to the air, he promised himself—
"When the crown is mine... I’m taking back everything they stole from me."