The wind over Nuoding City was neither harsh nor gentle—it simply passed through the narrow alleys and stone-paved roads like time itself: quiet, inevitable.
Tang San had returned to the city not as a spirit master of fame, but as a silent janitor who swept the floors of Nuoding Academy with unwavering calm. His job was simple, the pay meager, but for Tang San, it was more than enough. It granted him time, space, and access to areas others ignored—like the shadowed halls of the Spirit Hall branch and the sealed herb garden near the inner walls of the Academy.
Though no one noticed it yet, this quiet corner of the city had become the training ground for a rising storm.
A New Rhythm
Tang San's days followed a strict rhythm. At dawn, he ran laps around the city's walls, each time increasing the weight of the stone bag on his back. Afterward, he worked his janitor shift—sweeping floors, clearing waste, scrubbing tiles. In the afternoon, he practiced controlling his Blue Silver Grass with subtle precision, wrapping it around branches and poles to improve his spirit control.
At night, after the city quieted and even Xiao Wu had fallen asleep, Tang San cultivated.
The black stone, which had given him a strange mental technique weeks earlier, remained tucked safely within his hidden pouch. Though he still knew little about it, the energy flow in his cultivation had clearly changed. The Mysterious Heaven Skill ran smoother, and spirit energy responded more quickly to his calls. It wasn't overwhelming, but it was unmistakable.
He was progressing faster than others at his level—not because of brute power, but because his control and talent had begun to refine themselves quietly over time.
His talent didn't shoot up like a firework. It grew like a tree—rooted, subtle, and strong.
A Hidden Presence
Sometimes, in deep meditation, Tang San felt something whisper through the spirit energy around him. Not a voice exactly, but an echo of will. On the seventh night since returning, as he sat by the shadowed storeroom behind the Academy, he felt it again.
"Even if the heavens are boundless, they are still chains…"
He opened his eyes.
Nothing. No one was there. The courtyard was empty. But that presence—whatever it was—it wasn't malicious. Just… ancient. Heavy.
He touched the stone lightly through the fabric of his robe.
"What exactly are you?" he wondered silently.
It hadn't revealed anything since the day he received it from the cloaked man in the forest ruins. That man—scarred, silent, terrified—had only whispered that it was a remnant from a place he dared not return to. He had given it to Tang San like passing off a curse.
Yet to Tang San, it felt like an opportunity.
Still, he was cautious. He didn't rush to probe deeper. He just cultivated, absorbed spirit energy more efficiently, and grew little by little, day by day.
A Conversation with Grandmaster
Grandmaster had been keeping an eye on Tang San's growth, though he said little. But one evening, as they sat in the empty classroom reviewing spirit beast data, the old man suddenly spoke.
"You've improved," he said.
Tang San didn't look up from the scroll in his hand. "You've said that before."
Grandmaster snorted. "This time, I mean it differently. Your spirit power is still low, rank 13... barely. But the flow of energy in your body—it's not normal. Too stable. Too efficient."
Tang San stayed quiet.
"You're hiding something," Grandmaster added. "A technique?"
Tang San finally looked up. "I'm not sure what it is. It came from a relic. It enhances my control and spirit absorption, but not by leaps. It just makes things cleaner."
Grandmaster studied him for a moment before nodding. "Then be careful. Talent is a blade. Sharpened too fast, it breaks."
"I'm sharpening it slowly," Tang San replied.
"Good. Because the world you'll face ahead isn't kind to boys who rise too fast."
The Market Stranger
One afternoon, Tang San helped carry food supplies for the Academy to a vendor near the southern marketplace. While returning, a runaway ox-cart crashed into a small stall, knocking over crates of herbs and beast bones.
Tang San helped gather the items without hesitation.
The old merchant who owned the stall had a long scar down his neck and eyes that looked through people.
"You have a spirit ring already," the man noted quietly.
"Yes."
"But your power feels… layered. Not just from one path. Something else's in you."
Tang San looked at him warily.
The man chuckled hoarsely. "Don't be afraid. I once served a spirit master who tried to absorb a ring beyond his limit. It twisted him. But you… yours is different. Like you're gradually building a foundation the world can't see."
Tang San frowned. "Who are you?"
The old man only smiled and whispered, "If you ever find yourself beneath the Devil Bone Ridge, don't touch the blood-marked stones. That's where it began…"
And then he was gone, vanished into the crowd like smoke.
That night, Tang San sat in deep thought. The black stone was still dormant, but it pulsed once—just once—like it had heard the warning too.
Xiao Wu's Observation
Xiao Wu, though playful and carefree, wasn't blind. She noticed how Tang San's control had sharpened. How even simple spirit techniques—like binding a wooden target—lasted longer and struck faster.
"You're getting scary," she told him during sparring practice.
Tang San laughed softly. "Just a little extra effort."
"No way. You're training like an old hermit. What are you hiding?"
"Nothing. I just don't want to fall behind."
She pouted. "Fine, fine. But when we get our second rings, I'll show you what a true genius looks like."
Tang San nodded gently.
"Let's both try our best," he said.
But deep inside, he already knew—he was preparing for something far greater than a second spirit ring. The cloaked man's warning, the black stone, the mysterious energy pulses—they were all pieces of something vast.
He would uncover it. But slowly. Carefully.
One breath at a time.
End of Chapter