Warning! This post contains minor spoilers for Cultivation Online. Reading this post is also optional—meaning, skipping this post will not negatively affect the reading experience.
Qi Condensation Stage requires the accumulation of a set number of Qi Motes, stored in the Dantian.
Once a cultivator reaches the peak ...
2025-08-05 17:49:04 +0000 UTC View PostAfter scarfing down the pizza, I rushed back to my apartment.
Screw privacy—if the game wanted to read my mind, then so be it. It’s not like there was much going on in there anyway.
I chuckled dryly.
As for my kids, I found some comfort in knowing they were both adults now. I still wanted what was best for them, of course, but the truth was I hadn't played a meaningful role in their lives for quite some time.
If I reached out now just to tell them to stop playing <...
2025-08-05 13:38:13 +0000 UTC View PostAlone with my thoughts, I stared up listlessly at the rotating ceiling fan and the bland, egg-white coloured ceiling that sustained it. Next to me, my VR HeadGear nestled on an oversized pillow. If one studied the sleek device, one would notice that a light was blinking, indicating that it was charging remotely.
“There’s no way, right?” I muttered, my thoughts returning to what I had just experienced.
Virtual reality games have been around for decades, but VR gaming industry...
2025-08-05 11:58:11 +0000 UTC View PostLilac’s point of view
“God I’m shaking…” My face burned as I stepped onto the platform, painfully aware of every stare fixed on me. Somehow, the silence made it worse—like the entire evaluation ground was holding its breath just for me.
"Why couldn't they've done this in private instead...?" I cursed inwardly. Matilda had assured me no one would care, that they'd be too wrapped up in their own nerves to notice mine. But standing here ...
2025-08-05 10:43:13 +0000 UTC View PostI wish I could say that what followed was a constructive forum in which we got to ask the two inner disciples about cultivation or the sect. Instead, the lead cultivator decided to hold a long monologue.
“Since I might see some of you in the sect later, I think it’s time for some introductions.” The lead cultivator started. “My name is Zhou Qing, direct disciple under Inner Elder Zhan, and if you become an official outer disciple, you may refer to me as Senior Brother Zhou or In...
2025-08-03 09:46:10 +0000 UTC View PostPercival and his friend were the first to step onto the platform, both appearing to be in their late teens. Percival's avatar was sharp and clean-cut, almost unnervingly handsome, while his companion's rugged looks—complete with heavy facial hair—obscured much of his. youthful features.
"That's one way to get around the restrictive age alternatives, I guess?"
“Name and age?” Inner Disciple Xiang asked, holding a scroll and a quiver in his hands.
“Percival,...
2025-08-03 08:58:57 +0000 UTC View PostNight had already fallen when I finally logged in again. Yet, since it was so close to the summer solstice, it wasn't actually that dark. The distant horizon shimmered with beautiful orange hue.
For a moment, I just marvelled at how the air felt somewhat colder, crispier, and easier to breathe.
Unlike in the real world, these lungs hadn't been wrecked by years of smoking.
Understandably, most shops had closed for the night, and the streets were significantly quieter than bef...
2025-08-02 19:03:23 +0000 UTC View PostWherever the white-robe clad cultivator went, the crowd of adolescents parted like the red sea did for Moses. Suddenly, it was crystal clear who amongst us was native and who was a player.
The NPCs bowed reverentially as the cultivator passed them by. In contrast, the players treated him like some kind of spectacle—or quest event—staring, whispering, even laughing.
A few scoffed at his robe, calling it tacky, as if he were part of a low-budget cosplay parade.
Then, just ...
2025-08-02 17:36:52 +0000 UTC View PostFortunately, the rest of the morning passed expeditiously. The merchants and their workers were obviously competent at their work as before long, the camp was reassembled and the horses fastened to their wagons.
For some reason, despite helping out, I didn’t receive a copper coin this time. However, after some deliberation, I decided to abstain from asking why.
Also, as the caravan leaders announced it was time to take off, a worrisome problem appeared
Dark and Atom were s...
2025-08-02 14:42:21 +0000 UTC View PostAfter a brief moment of silence, I was showered in applause. Only my opponent’s closest confidants remained conspiciously silent. The rest of the spectators erupted in cheers. The loudest of whom came from my fellow players.
“Oh my god! Bro just wiped the floor with that turd.”
“Wow! Did you hear that bone crack? Fuck, man’s definitely in a world of pain right now.”
“Dude, that was absolutely awesome! Where did you learn how to fight like that?”
Ignorin...
2025-08-02 13:36:25 +0000 UTC View PostWith a flash of pale-blue light, my surroundings changed. Darkness morphed into an array of colours, which subsequently transformed into a variety of shapes and silhouettes.
Suddenly, I was no longer in my bed; I was standing in a large plaza, wearing a surprisingly scratchy greyish-white tunic and a pair of brown cloth pants which offered little to no protection to the elements.
My outfit was hardly unique seeing as every other person standing on the plaza wore the same thing—e...
2025-08-02 12:23:03 +0000 UTC View PostDisused Classroom, Fourth Floor, Hogwarts. September 11, 1989.
Dark clouds loomed outside the windows, cloaking the already dusty, timeworn classroom in an added layer of foreboding.
Yet Thalia and I paid it no heed as we continued practicing.
“No, your arm should be closer to your body—look,” Thalia explained, demonstrating the Willow Crown duelling stance.
With slightly bent knees, she slid into position with practiced ease, the motions fluid and preci...
2025-08-02 09:13:38 +0000 UTC View PostProfessor Flitwick’s Classroom, Third Floor, Hogwarts. September 11, 1989.
Collapsing into my seat, I rested my weary head against the cool wood of the desk. A quick glance at the clock confirmed I blessedly still had another half an hour before class began—which meant that the classroom would remain peacefully empty for at least another fifteen minutes.
And since most of my classmates were still lingering over breakfast in the Great Hall, I decided to use the moment ...
2025-07-25 08:10:24 +0000 UTC View Post
Professor Crowe’s’ Classroom, Third Floor, Hogwarts. September 8, 1989.
A heavy silence settled over the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom in response to Professor Crowe’s ruling.
The atmosphere was practically crackling with tension.
Except for Thalia, no one was courageous to meet Crowe’s gaze. But everyone felt it: the contradiction, the unfairness of the situation. Until now, he’d awarded points to anyone whose charm had even remotely co...
2025-07-21 08:14:10 +0000 UTC View PostProfessor Binns’ Classroom, First Floor, Hogwarts. September 7, 1989.
“…After the ill-advised intervention of the Department of Magical Transportation, in which Portkeys were distributed to Ministry officials but not to their goblin counterparts, the ensuing diplomatic insult was enough to fracture the already tenuous truce brokered after the 1610 Summit at Slagholt…”
A quill scraped loudly nearby as one of my peers nodded off and smudged his bottle of ...
2025-07-17 06:08:31 +0000 UTC View Post
Professor Flitwick’s Classroom, Third Floor, Hogwarts. September 6, 1989.
With practiced ease and deliberate wandwork, I channelled my focus into that beautiful spark of energy pulsing within me—the source of magic lodged somewhere between my chest and my stomach.
And in that moment of intense focus, the stares around me slipped away, no longer of any consequence.
“Vermilious.” I murmured, almost whisperingly.
Immediately, the spark stirred in...
2025-07-15 04:34:35 +0000 UTC View PostThe Great Library, First Floor, Hogwarts. September 5, 1989.
Yawning, I glanced over Thalia’s shoulder—at her unfinished paper.
To think, despite living in the twentieth century, the girl was still using quill and ink.
Romantic, perhaps. But certainly not practical.
“What would be practical,” I mused wistfully, “is having one of those sentient, self-writing quills… like the kind Rita Skeeter uses.”
I couldn't h...
First Year Girls’ Dormitory, Ravenclaw Tower, Hogwarts. September 5, 1989.
“I can't believe he didn't say anything!” I frowned, yanking my comb through my hair with far more force than what was proper.
Yesterday had been the day I’d dreamed about for as long as I could remember.
My first real school day at Hogwarts.
The same school my grandparents had praised to the heavens throughout my upbringing—a school where history wa...
2025-06-13 19:06:58 +0000 UTC View Post
See attached screenshot for detailed schedule. ***************************************** Charms (w. Hufflepuff) taught by Professor Flitwick
See attached screenshot for detailed schedule.
*****************************************
Charms (w. Hufflepuff) taught by Professor Flitwick
Related textbook: The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk and Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling.
Tra...
2025-06-12 21:45:28 +0000 UTC View PostFirst Year Boys' Dormitory, Ravenclaw Tower, Hogwarts. September 4, 1989.
The next morning, I did something unusual and slept in until five minutes before breakfast.
After quickly checking my magical reserves, I was pleased to note that my spark had mostly recovered since yesterday’s fizzle. The headache had similarly dissipated.
It went without saying that I wasn’t looking forward to the next time I ‘fizzled out’. The term might sound cute, but the effects ...
2025-06-12 08:30:40 +0000 UTC View PostFirst Year Boys' Dormitory, Ravenclaw Tower, Hogwarts. September 3, 1989.
I have to admit—it felt oddly disorienting not having to attend Sunday service this morning. After seven years of waking up to hymns and sermons, the absence left an unexpected void in my routine. As much as I’d complained about it at times, I almost missed the ritual.
I didn’t consider myself especially religious, not in any dogmatic sense. But I had appreciated the structure—and the commun...
2025-06-12 08:27:43 +0000 UTC View PostFirst Year Boys' Dormitory, Ravenclaw Tower, Hogwarts. September 1, 1989.
The banquet was a feast unlike anything I’d ever experienced.
The food was succulent, rich with flavor, and so diverse that I didn’t know where to begin. Whoever was running the kitchen clearly knew what they were doing.
Personally, though, I suspected house-elves had a hand in it. Probably several dozens of them.
Now, I wasn’t exactly a fan of the whole house-elf situation, but I...
2025-06-12 08:26:26 +0000 UTC View PostSacred Morgan Children’s Home, Bath, England. September 1, 1989. Saying goodbye to everyone at the orphanage was definitely a bittersweet mo
Sacred Morgan Children’s Home, Bath, England. September 1, 1989.
Saying goodbye to everyone at the orphanage was definitely a bittersweet moment. Sister Taylor cried; Alex cried; Rose and Beatrice cried; I cried.
What had started out as a temporary pitstop—or worse, the garbage dump where my mom had abandoned me—had, o...
Sacred Morgan Children’s Home, Bath, England. July 13, 1989. Like dominos, everything fell into place as I stared into the serious eyes of t
Sacred Morgan Children’s Home, Bath, England. July 13, 1989.
Like dominos, everything fell into place as I stared into the serious eyes of the woman sitting across from me.
Professor McGonagall.
The year, the country, the magic—there was no denying it: I’d been reborn into the world of Harry Potter.
Sacred Morgan Children's Home, Bath, England. July 13, 1989.
“—up! It's time to wakey-wakey Mikey-Mikey!” A squeaky, adolescent voice tore me—unwillingly—from my dreams.
When the vexing little brat then had the subsequent audacity to kick my bedframe, I nearly manifested magic in irritation.
“That’s been happening more and more often lately.” I thought as I blinked away the sleep from my eyes. “Which only asserts my earlier supposition...
2025-06-12 08:20:31 +0000 UTC View PostSt. John The Evangelist’s Church, Bath, England. October 24, 1982.
Learning how to wield magic—attempt number two—was off to an even worse start than expected.
The more I practiced, the fewer ideas I had left at my disposal, and the less likely it seemed that I’d be able to learn magic at all.
If magic was even something that could be learned.
“No,” I muttered, shaking my head ferociously. “It’s magic we're talking about. I can do this...
2025-06-12 08:19:39 +0000 UTC View PostEngland, The United Kingdoms. October 22, 1982.
A cool breeze swept purposefully through cobbled streets confined by honey-coloured buildings and picturesque townhouses. Everywhere one looked, meticulously designed limestone invited and evoked admiration.
Occasionally, an alley would appear, only to fleetingly serve as an involuntary outlet for the trespassing gust of air. Nevertheless, the wind marched on, displacing dust and ruffling people's clothes as it streaked past...
2025-06-12 08:18:36 +0000 UTC View Post