I am An Immortal Painter

A Night of Determination

The moon hung high over Titan Awakener Academy, casting a pale glow over its towering buildings and expansive courtyards. By now, the dormitory halls were silent, their occupants either fast asleep or indulging in late-night studies.

Ron, however, had no intention of sleeping.

Seated cross-legged in his small dorm room, he steadied his breathing, feeling the faint pulses of spiritual energy in the air. Cultivation was not a common practice in this world. It had been buried under centuries of system-based Awakening, forgotten by modern humanity.

But not by him.

Not by the memories he carried of his past life.

His body was still weak—compared to the monsters of this academy, he was nothing more than an ant. But cultivation did not rely on the Awakener's system. It did not require levels or skill acquisitions dictated by external forces.

It was power beyond the system. True strength, built through his own effort.

And tonight, he was ready to take the next step.

Breaking Through – Qi Refining Middle Stage

Ron closed his eyes, drawing upon the energy in his body. His dantian, the core of his cultivation, stirred—once a still pool, now rippling with growing strength.

With every breath, he guided spiritual energy into his meridians, letting it flow through his limbs, his bones, his very blood.

The pain came next.

A sharp, searing heat crawled through his body as his meridians expanded, struggling to contain the newfound energy. His muscles tensed, sweat gathering on his brow, but he gritted his teeth and endured it.

Seconds passed. Then minutes.

Until suddenly—

BOOM!

A subtle explosion echoed within him. His energy surged, breaking through the previous limit.

Qi Refining Middle Stage.

Ron's eyes snapped open, golden light flickering in his pupils before fading into darkness. His breathing steadied.

He lifted his hand, clenching his fingers into a fist.

Stronger.

He could feel it. His body was sturdier, his strength sharper. The difference wasn't overwhelming yet, but he was no longer the weakling from before.

And this was only the beginning.

Ink Infusion – The Evolution of Painting

He shifted his gaze to the wooden desk nearby.

There, beside a stack of worn papers and brushes, lay his inkstone.

His past life had granted him martial arts and cultivation, but more than that—it had given him art.

Ron picked up a brush, dipping it into ink, his grip steady. The brush danced across the parchment, each stroke imbued with precision. But now, something was different.

He exhaled, channeling his energy through his fingertips.

The ink responded.

It shimmered, faintly glowing as if alive.

For the first time, his Qi was infusing the ink itself, making it more than just pigment on paper.

This was the key.

He wasn't just a painter.

He was a cultivator of ink and time.

His paintings would no longer be simple works of art.

They would be weapons.

Martial Arts – A Forgotten Path

But cultivation and painting alone weren't enough.

He needed to fight.

Ron stood, rolling his shoulders, feeling the renewed strength in his limbs. His past life had been filled with battles—countless duels against warriors, beasts, and immortals.

Those instincts had dulled in this new life.

It was time to sharpen them again.

Slipping out of his dorm room, he moved silently through the darkened halls, exiting through the side doors.

The academy's training fields were empty at this hour, the vast courtyard bathed in moonlight. Stone pillars lined the perimeter, each engraved with marks of past battles. Training dummies stood motionless, waiting for the next student to strike.

Ron took his place in the center, inhaling deeply.

And then—he moved.

His footwork was precise, weaving through invisible opponents. His fists struck the air, each movement calculated, refined. He shifted from Tiger Fist—brutal and direct—to Flowing Steps, an evasive technique built for countering attacks.

It felt natural.

It felt right.

Yet, it wasn't enough.

He could feel the gaps—his body was still adjusting, his strength unrefined compared to his past life.

But he didn't stop.

Again.

His strikes grew sharper. His movements smoother. His balance, perfect.

By the time dawn approached, sweat dripped from his brow, his muscles aching with exhaustion.

But his eyes?

They burned with determination.

A Silent Resolve

Returning to his dorm, Ron wiped his sweat with a damp towel, his mind replaying the events of the night.

The breakthrough. The ink infusion. The martial arts training.

He wasn't just growing stronger.

He was evolving.

And soon…

The world would see it.

The academy had mocked him, dismissed him as a failure.

Leo Graves had humiliated him.

The professors had ignored him.

But soon, they would all understand.

This world relied on the Awakener System.

But Ron?

He would prove that true strength… belonged to those who carved their own path.