For weeks, Sylas tried.
He had no teachers, no guidance—only the fragmented knowledge of his past life and the observations he had gathered.
Cultivation was the foundation of power in this world. It shaped kingdoms, dictated status, and separated the weak from the strong. Those who lacked talent were discarded.
And yet, despite his relentless efforts, he felt nothing.
Every night, when the estate grew silent, Sylas sat alone in his chambers, his small frame rigid with focus. He closed his eyes, slowed his breathing, and stretched his senses outward, trying to feel what his brothers harnessed so effortlessly.
He pictured energy like particles of light, like electricity in a circuit, like ripples in an endless void.
But the world remained silent.
Days passed. Then weeks.
Failure after failure.
It was maddening.
One evening, after yet another futile attempt, he opened his eyes and exhaled sharply, frustration coiling in his chest. Something wasn’t right.
He had watched Rael cultivate before—the air around him would shimmer, bending like heat rising from a fire. Energy responded to him naturally, flowing toward him in waves.
But when Sylas sat in the same position, in the same meditative posture… nothing happened.
It was as if the world itself ignored him.
Then, a terrifying thought crept into his mind.
What if he simply wasn’t meant to cultivate?
The idea sent a chill down his spine.
Sylas had always relied on intelligence and knowledge to overcome obstacles. If his mind was his greatest weapon, then despair had no place in it. There had to be a reason.
So instead of repeating the same failure, he changed his approach.
He studied his brothers.
He listened to the whispers of servants who spoke about cultivation.
He dissected passing conversations between nobles, picking apart their words for hidden truths.
And after weeks of careful observation, the truth revealed itself.
He had no affinity.
No attraction to fire, ice, space, time, or darkness.
Energy did not flow to him—it avoided him.
He was nothing.
A lesser mind would have broken under the weight of that realization.
But then, something strange happened.
There was a type of energy that did not reject him outright.
It wasn’t as fierce as Rael’s fire affinity.
It wasn’t as elusive as Cassius’s shadow affinity.
It was something overlooked, dismissed as worthless—pure energy.
Unshaped. Unrefined. Useless.
Or at least, that was what the world believed.
For Sylas, it was the key to everything.
Excitement burned away his frustration.
Pure energy was discarded, forgotten. No one had ever tried to master it.
That meant no rules. No restrictions. No path already walked.
Which made it his greatest advantage.
He would experiment. He would push his mind and body beyond their limits until the world had no choice but to acknowledge him.
Because if there was one truth Sylas knew—
Limitations only existed until someone shattered them.
And he would be the first.