My Clan Cultivation System: Only My Clan Can Cultivate

Kael stared at the glowing [+] next to the Adamantine Ox Hide Technique, a chaotic mix of emotions twisting his face. The corner of his mouth twitched in sheer annoyance.

​I should be happy that I can cultivate this easily, he thought, his golden eyes narrowing at the floating blue screen. But why do I feel like this damn system is mocking me? It watched me squat in the dark like an idiot for four hours. It could have just given me a prompt saying my body was too trash to cultivate naturally!

​Since the morning light was already starting to bleed through the edges of the thick velvet window curtains, Kael knew he didn’t have much time before the estate woke up. He didn’t hesitate any longer. He mentally pressed the plus sign.

​A new, bold blue prompt flashed before his eyes:

​[DETECTED THAT THE HOST WOULD LIKE TO CONSUME 20 PROSPERITY POINTS TO INCREASE THEIR CULTIVATION STAGE. DO YOU WISH TO PROCEED? YES / NO]

​Kael immediately selected [YES].

​Instantly, a wave of intense, prickling heat washed over his entire body. He braced himself for the agonizing pain he remembered from the soul assimilation, but it never came. Instead, it was a deep, comforting warmth—like sitting too close to a roaring hearth—that seeped directly into his pores and muscles.

​He could actually hear the faint, crackling sound of his skin tightening. It grew noticeably harder, pulling taut over his frail muscles, yet it felt strangely smoother to the touch.

​That’s it? No massive surge in explosive power? Just tougher skin? Kael thought, flexing his hands. His knuckles popped, echoing loudly in the quiet room.

​But before he could complain about the lack of offensive power, a sudden, aggressive itch flared across his stomach. He looked down and gasped. The deep, jagged gash from the assassin’s dagger was knitting itself together at a terrifying, unnatural rate. The raw, red flesh stitched itself closed, pushing the dried blood out until it flaked away like dust.

​Wait, no, they’re closing way too fast, Kael realized, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. How the hell am I going to explain this to the family doctor when he comes to change my bandages?

​In this world, magic existed, but healing a mortal stab wound in a matter of hours was unheard of for a "talentless" merchant family. If the assassins—or whoever hired them—found out he had miraculously healed overnight, they would instantly know he was hiding a massive secret. It would paint a gigantic target on his back.

​Still, Kael couldn’t help but feel a surge of profound relief. He could at least take a hit now, and the rapid healing was an undeniable advantage. But reality quickly grounded him. He was still physically weak in terms of raw muscle mass. Even an apprentice knight could probably mop the floor with his face if they got him in a grapple.

​"System," he called out softly into the empty room. The blue panel refreshed.

​[Ian Thorne]

Age: 17

Lifespan: 73

Martial Arts: None

Cultivation Arts: Adamantine Ox Hide Technique [+]

Martial Stage: Early Stage of Skin Cultivation

​Prosperity Points: 30

[Prosperity Shop]

​He focused his mind and pressed the [+] sign a second time.

​[DETECTED THAT THE HOST WOULD LIKE TO CONSUME 30 PROSPERITY POINTS TO INCREASE THEIR CULTIVATION STAGE. DO YOU WISH TO PROCEED? YES / NO]

​The price went up by ten points. It seems the cost scales heavily with the stage, Kael noted.

​He pressed [YES] again.

​The heat returned, but this time it was like stepping into a blazing furnace. It baked his flesh from the inside out. Despite the intense heat, it still brought absolutely no pain.

​When the heat finally faded a minute later, Kael wiped the foul black grime from his arm and immediately checked his stomach. Just as he feared, the fatal stab wound had completely vanished. It left behind flawless, smooth skin. Not even a faint white scar remained to prove he had ever been stabbed.

​Damn it, Kael cursed, clicking his tongue in frustration.

​He frantically bent down and grabbed the discarded, blood-soaked linen bandages from the floor. Wincing at the cold, sticky feeling, he hastily wrapped the bloody linens back around his waist, tying them tightly to fake the injury. He had to keep up the act of being the weak, dying Ian Thorne.

​But on the bright side, as he pulled the bandages tight, he felt a distinct, undeniable difference in his body. His skin now felt as dense and unyielding as cured beast leather. He punched his own palm, and it sounded like two thick wooden blocks slamming together. If he punched a stone wall right now, he wouldn’t leave a dent in the stone, but his knuckles wouldn’t even bruise. And with the Adamantine technique’s unique trait—a three-times strength multiplier when his feet were firmly planted on the earth—he finally had a deadly trump card. A dark, dangerous grin spread across his face.

​Checking the panel, his stage had updated to the Middle Stage of Skin Cultivation. He assumed Late Stage and Peak Stage were next. But a much bigger, glaring problem loomed over him. His point balance was now at an absolute zero.

​How do I earn more Prosperity Points? Are there system quests? Do I get them for killing my enemies? Since I can’t cultivate naturally without sitting in a stance for a hundred years, I need these points urgently to survive.

​So lost in his thoughts and strategizing, Kael completely failed to hear the heavy brass handle of his bedroom door turning.

​The heavy oak door pushed open with a soft creak.

​"Aaaah... Bro... brother?" a small, trembling voice gasped.

​Kael snapped his head up, his muscles instinctively tensing for a fight. Standing in the doorway was a young girl holding a brass basin of fresh water and a stack of clean towels. Her hair was a messy, disheveled nest, and her eyes were heavily ringed with dark, exhausted circles that proved she had been crying all night.

​Clang!

​The brass basin slipped from her numb fingers, crashing onto the marble floor and spilling water everywhere.

​Before Kael could even say a word or remember her name from the memory integration, the girl sprinted across the flooded room. She threw her small arms around his waist, burying her tear-streaked face into his chest, and began to sob uncontrollably.

​It was Emma. One of Ian’s little sisters. And Kael suddenly remembered he was supposed to be a traumatized, bedridden victim.