By the second day of the Grand Spiral Symposium, Rayen had become a minor sensation—and a major problem.
Dozens of sects now hovered on the edge of fascination and fear. The Philosopher's Core had rewritten too many assumptions. And the Dynamic Cultivation Pill had done something worse than stun its audience.
It had worked.
"They're calling it the Pill of Echoed Will," Lin Xue reported, scrolling through a spirit-thread bulletin hovering over their breakfast table. "Or, less charitably, 'the Mutant Mind Bead.'"
Rayen sipped his tea. "Better infamous than invisible."
:: Incoming notice. Panel debate invitation received. Format: live forum. Topic: 'Is the Quantum Path a Cultivation Delusion?' Participants: six scholars. Audience: ten thousand. ::
He raised a brow. "A debate. With ten thousand cultivators listening."
Lin handed him a new robe. "Wear something ironed. If they're going to burn you, at least look sharp."
The debate arena resembled a floating amphitheater shaped like an unfolding lotus. Each petal held a sect delegation, and above them hovered projection glyphs replaying diagrams, equations, and critical reactions.
Rayen stepped into the speaker's node as murmurs rippled across the tiers.
To his left: Master Jue of the Ironroot Order, a stoic minimalist.
To his right: Matron Yilun of the Memory Mist Sect, famed for mind-altering potions and very persuasive rhetoric.
At the center: a neutral host from the Grand Library.
"Opening thesis," the host intoned. "Wu Rayen. Your claim: cultivation can be modeled, refined, and enhanced by quantum simulation and adaptive constructs."
Rayen smiled. "Correct. The Dao isn't a mystery to preserve—it's a phenomenon to understand. We don't fear lightning. We learned to harness it. Cultivation deserves the same respect."
Jue scowled. "Your methods ignore centuries of experiential wisdom. What happens when you try to debug enlightenment?"
Rayen's tone stayed even. "Wisdom doesn't fear questions. And if your path shatters under scrutiny, it wasn't a path. It was a story."
Yilun interjected smoothly. "But stories shape minds. You seek to replace myth with numbers. Yet a cultivator's soul isn't data."
Rayen's eyes glittered. "No, it's more than data. But that doesn't mean data can't illuminate it. I don't offer numbers instead of truth. I offer tools to reach it."
The crowd was silent—then a ripple of whispered debates spread like wildfire.
:: Sentiment trend: shifting. Initial hostility decreasing. Uncertainty rising. Confidence nodes forming around Core compatibility diagnostics. ::
The host nodded. "Closing rebuttals?"
Rayen turned to the crowd. "I stand here not to mock the past—but to build a future. You've seen what the Philosopher's Core can do. This is only Phase One. Imagine a world where each cultivator finds their path faster. Where breakthroughs don't depend on fate, but refinement."
He paused.
"Isn't that what every alchemist has ever wanted?"
The silence turned into soft applause.
Yilun frowned, but said nothing.
Back in the private quarters, Lin Xue dropped into a chair. "You didn't just survive that panel. You walked out with half the crowd wanting to apprentice under you."
Rayen paced slowly, deep in thought. "It won't be enough. Not if they still see us as novelty."
"You want to prove it again?"
He turned. "No. I want to scale it."
"Scale the Core?"
"No," Rayen said, eyes alight. "Scale cultivation itself."