The training grounds stretch wide beneath the morning sun, stone platforms arranged in neat formations. Disciples stand in rows, the tension palpable.
The instructor arrives with quiet steps that carry weight — a tall man with silver-streaked hair and sharp eyes that miss nothing. His presence radiates discipline. The murmurs fall silent before he even speaks.
"I am Instructor Huo." His voice is calm but unyielding. "You stand here not as sword wielders, not as sabre bearers, but as cultivators who must learn to make a weapon an extension of your will."
He lets that settle before continuing.
"Many of you come from wealthy clans, armed with fine blades. Others… from small villages, armed with little more than determination. Let me teach you the truth of weapons."
He gestures behind him. An attendant unrolls a cloth to reveal four blades — one iron, one steel, one forged with faint runic etching, and one glowing faintly with a pulsing inner light.
"The first is mundane iron. A tool." He lifts it and swings once. The air barely stirs. "It bends to effort, but not intent."
The second blade — polished steel — whistles sharply through the air. "Steel follows strength, not will. You can break it or wield it, but it will not answer you."
He lifts the third blade — runes glimmer along the edge. "A forged weapon responds to refined qi. Push it too far, and it will resist."
Finally, he draws the fourth weapon — the glow intensifies. The air thickens. Disciples inhale sharply.
"This… is a spirit weapon. A blade that grows with its wielder, evolving with intent, tempering itself alongside your cultivation. Spirit weapons are not forged for power — they are forged for partnership."
De-Reece watches carefully. The blade trembles slightly in Instructor Huo's hand, not out of instability, but eagerness. It reacts to its master's presence.
"To those of you who believe that power lies in a heavy blade or a rare alloy… you will not last long."
He turns, facing the sparring platform.
"Show me your footwork. Show me your grip. Show me whether your weapon follows you, or if you still follow it."
Pairs begin to spar. Some blades clash with raw force. Others move elegantly but lack power.
Kalia steps onto the platform against another disciple. Her strikes are measured but light. De-Reece can see it — her technique is good, but her qi control still lags behind her potential. Her opponent overpowers her with brute force, but she adapts, countering with swift footwork until the match is called a draw.
Instructor Huo watches them all with a critical gaze.
Finally, he lifts his own spirit sword. With one motion, he releases his qi — the blade extends, energy rippling along its edge, and the platform beneath his feet cracks.
The class falls silent.
"Remember this," he says. "A sword is not meant to be wielded. It is meant to wield your intent."
He turns, dismissing them with a wave.
As they leave the platform, Kalia exhales. "I thought I was good until today."
De-Reece's expression remains steady. "You are. But there's better."
Her smile returns slowly. "I'll catch up."
"Of course."
He doesn't doubt it.
The next morning, De-Reece and Kalia stand outside the Contribution Hall, scanning the glowing task board. Dozens of missions flicker across its surface — from menial chores to more challenging hunts.
Kalia frowns. "Most of these look like they're meant for groups or mid-tier disciples."
De-Reece's eyes narrow as he spots a smaller listing, almost overlooked between more glamorous tasks:
Task 2184: Harvest Flame Petal Grass.
Location: Outer forest glades.
Reward: 20 contribution points per bundle.
Note: Be cautious. Flame Petal Grass grows in volatile qi zones. Previous attempts unsuccessful.
Perfect.
"I'm taking this one," De-Reece says.
Kalia blinks. "Seriously? Foraging?"
He glances at her. "Twenty points is twenty points. And I need the exercise."
They split for the day, Kalia choosing to explore the martial arenas. De-Reece heads into the forest alone.
The outer glades hum with unstable qi currents, the air warmer than it should be. The Flame Petal Grass glows faintly red, tucked between jagged stones. He crouches down, examining the field. Multiple spots show signs of burns and small craters — the result of hasty attempts by impatient disciples.
He smirks faintly. "They tried to rip you out by force."
Instead, De-Reece channels a thin thread of qi into the soil, calming the volatile energy around the plant's roots. The Flame Petal Grass trembles, its natural defence fading. He carefully clips each stalk at the base and stores them in specialised herb pouches.
One by one, he moves through the field, repeating the process. The task takes hours, but he never rushes.
By midday, he's gathered more than enough. On his way back, he passes two junior disciples — their faces streaked with soot, frustration evident.
"What kind of trap grass burns on contact?" one grumbles.
De-Reece walks past without comment, depositing three full bundles at the Contribution Hall desk.
The attendant raises an eyebrow. "All of these?"
"All of them," De-Reece confirms.
"Twenty points per bundle. That makes sixty. Well done."
De-Reece accepts the jade slip containing his new contribution points and steps away. He doesn't linger.
He returns to the estate just as the sun begins to dip. Kalia lounges by the meditation pond, looking up as he approaches.
"Let me guess," she says. "You finished."
"Three bundles."
Her eyes widen. "I heard everyone who tries that get's their hands burned."
He sits beside her. "It's not about force. It's about understanding the qi of the plant. Everything has rhythm if you're patient enough to listen."
She smiles, shaking her head. "You make it sound easy."
"It is. If you stop rushing."
The courtyard is quiet in the early evening, shadows stretching long across the polished stone. Kalia stands opposite De-Reece, her expression focused but determined.
Solar sits off to the side at first, golden-violet eyes half-lidded but alert, watching her master.
De-Reece loosens his stance. "Ready?"
Kalia exhales slowly. "Don't hold back too much this time."
He raises an eyebrow. "If I don't hold back, you'll be on the ground in three moves."
Kalia's lips twitch into a smirk. "Then make it five."
They begin.
Kalia comes in fast, her blade flashing toward his side. De-Reece pivots with minimal effort, redirecting the strike with his forearm. She recovers instantly, feinting high before sweeping low — but he's already stepped aside.
Her movements are sharper than before; her footwork more precise. She doesn't overextend, doesn't leave openings like she used to. Her qi flows more evenly, but it still lacks refinement.
"Your transitions are smoother," De-Reece observes, parrying another strike with his palm.
Kalia spins back, sweat beading on her brow. "I've been working on it."
She lunges again — but this time, Solar moves.
The black lion-like beast steps into the fight, launching a soft gust of qi from her paws, throwing Kalia slightly off-balance.
Kalia catches herself, eyes wide. "You're letting Solar join in now?"
De-Reece nods once. "You wanted realism. A real battle rarely has only one opponent."
Kalia grits her teeth and adjusts. Her next attack incorporates a feint toward Solar, followed by a swift upward thrust toward De-Reece.
He deflects it easily but smiles faintly. "Better."
Solar circles behind Kalia, her presence a constant pressure. Kalia tries to pivot, but Solar's qi flares momentarily, creating a field of resistance that slows her movement just enough for De-Reece to tap her wrist, disarming her.
Her sword clatters to the ground.
Kalia sags slightly. "Four moves."
De-Reece steps forward, placing a hand on her shoulder. "That's improvement."
Solar trots over, nuzzling Kalia briefly, earning a laugh despite her defeat.
Kalia wipes sweat from her brow. "I don't know how you two coordinate so well without words."
"We've been doing this for a long time."
She sits down heavily by the pond, catching her breath. "One day, I'll be able to keep up with both of you."
De-Reece lowers himself beside her. "That's the plan."
Solar settles down between them, a comforting weight.
The stars begin to prick the sky, and the courtyard falls into peaceful silence — the kind of silence earned only after honest exertion.
Night settles over the estate, the courtyard bathed in silver light. Inside the alchemy room, faint wisps of herbal fragrance swirl in the air, each scent distinct yet harmonious.
De-Reece sits before the furnace, sleeves rolled, movements precise and deliberate. His mind is clear — no distractions, no room for error.
He places the ingredients in order:
Blackwood Sap for the Body Tempering Pills.Qi-Stabilizing Root and Shadowvine for the Spirit Solidifying Pills.Silverthorn Berries and Ghostshade Flower essence for the Meridian Cleansing Pills.
He begins with the body tempering batch. The flame beneath the cauldron glows deep blue as he channels qi, adjusting the temperature by feel alone. Each herb is added in exact sequence — not a moment too early, not a breath too late. The mixture bubbles, releasing a dull glow as impurities rise and are siphoned away.
The pills form slowly, solidifying into small, perfectly rounded spheres. He taps the furnace lightly, and they fall into a jade container.
Next, he moves on to the spirit solidifying pills — these require more finesse. He narrows the flame into a fine point, drawing out the essence without burning the delicate compounds. The mixture flashes once, then settles into a steady simmer. The finished pills radiate a faint golden sheen.
Finally, the meridian cleansing pills. The concoction resists at first, unstable. He steadies his breathing, pushing his qi into the solution, weaving his intent through the liquid. The cauldron answers. The mixture thickens, the qi settling into balance, and the final pills take shape — pale silver with faint blue veins running through them.
De-Reece leans back slightly, exhaling.
He transfers the pills into separate containers, each marked with carved runes for preservation.
"These will help her… but only if she uses them wisely," he murmurs.
The room falls silent once more.
He wipes down the tools, stores the containers in his pouch, and steps into the night air. Solar pads beside him, her presence steady and warm.
Tomorrow, he will give Kalia these gifts.
And then… he will test himself against the sect.