The first thing Felix felt was warmth.
Not the kind from fire or sunlight—but a slow, pulsing warmth spreading through his limbs, like heat seeping into frozen earth. His eyes fluttered open.
A soft glow filled the room. The ceiling above was made of lacquered wood beams. A faint herbal scent lingered in the air, and silken curtains filtered daylight through the windows. There were no harsh sounds, only the quiet bubbling of a nearby cauldron.
He was lying on a bed. Clean sheets. Bandages wrapped around his arms, chest, and legs. Pain dulled by something potent curled at the edge of his awareness.
"Ah," he croaked, voice dry and raw.
Footsteps approached, calm and deliberate. A familiar presence filled the room.
"You're awake," came Lina's composed voice. Her tone held neither panic nor overjoyed surprise—only cool observation, as if she had expected him to awaken eventually.
Felix turned his head. Alchemist Lina stood at the doorway, dressed in her dark blue robes embroidered with subtle alchemical sigils. Her gaze was as sharp as ever, calm and calculating, her pride quietly settled in her bearing—the pride of someone who knew her value, both as a healer and someone with significant connections.
"I… owe you," Felix rasped.
"You do," she said simply, stepping closer. Her fingers glowed faintly as she checked his pulse. "You were inches from death. Burned meridians, fractured bones, spiritual backlash that should've torn your mind apart. If I hadn't used the Starpetal Elixir…"
"You used that?" Felix blinked, stunned. "Isn't that meant for—?"
"Foundation Realm cultivators experiencing spiritual collapse. Yes," she answered. "One of the last I had. And I used it on a barely stable Awakening Realm talisman maker who nearly fried himself alive."
Felix flinched. "That's… more than I deserve."
Lina's gaze remained steady. "Maybe. But it worked."
He looked away. "Why?"
"You're talented. And not just in making talismans. You're methodical, persistent. You risked everything trying to push a low-grade formation past its limit. That kind of recklessness… is sometimes rewarded."
Felix chuckled weakly. "Or punished."
Her eyes narrowed. "Both, in your case. What happened? Be specific."
He took a long breath. "I was cultivating. Focusing on the flow of energy through the runic pathways in my Fireball Talisman design. I wasn't just drawing arrays—I was aligning my breath with each line, syncing my spirit with the formation. It was… like walking a tightrope with my soul. Then something shifted." He paused. "The world went silent. The pain vanished. My awareness stretched outward like ink in water. Every line of the formation became part of me."
Lina crossed her arms. "An epiphany?"
He nodded slowly. "Yes. But I didn't tell you everything."
Her expression didn't change. "Go on."
"I think I created a new cultivation method."
That got her attention. She blinked. "What?"
"I'm serious. It's still incomplete, but I call it the Breath of the Mystic Vessel. It's based on that cheap scroll I bought months ago—the one I told you about. It nearly killed me, but during that moment of collapse, something shifted. I saw how energy flows. Not just within me, but around me. I could filter it, refine it, map it. My mental capacity… exploded. I could hold thoughts in parallel, trace multiple runes in my mind while analyzing their effects."
Lina studied him carefully. "And you're telling me this… why?"
"Because I trust you enough to share part of it."
"Part of it," she echoed.
Felix met her gaze. "Yes. Not everything. Not because I doubt you, Lina. But because the more people know, the more dangerous it becomes. Even for you."
Her silence was telling. She didn't argue.
"I see," she said finally. "You're being careful."
"I have to be."
Lina's fingers tapped against her forearm. "You understand what you're suggesting. Creating a cultivation method isn't something anyone can do—even Foundation Realm cultivators often fail. It requires insight, perception, understanding of spiritual dynamics. And it's the foundation of every power structure in the kingdom."
"I know. That's why I'm not telling anyone else."
"You shouldn't." She exhaled softly. "The Breath of the Mystic Vessel… a bold name."
"It felt right," he said, closing his eyes briefly. "A vessel because I feel like I'm channeling something greater than myself. Breath because each cycle feels alive, like a tide."
Lina sat on a nearby stool, her demeanor unshaken but clearly intrigued. "Describe it, then. The part you're willing to share."
"It refines perception. I can see the flow of energy with complete clarity. When I breathe, I don't just gather essence—I process it. Strip away impurities. Anchor it into my system without backlash. More than that, my mind can handle multiple processes at once. I can draw formations while refining energy. It's like I've stepped out of a fog."
Lina raised a brow. "Multitasking at the spiritual level? That's… ridiculous."
"And yet I'm doing it."
"You're not just evolving—you're reshaping your entire foundation."
"I know."
She stared at him, then stood again. "I assume you don't plan on offering this to the highest bidder."
Felix gave a faint smile. "It's not something I can even teach. It's unique to me. Born from my experience. I doubt anyone else could use it."
"Even so… if word gets out…"
"I'll be careful," he promised. "That's why I only told you a portion. Just enough to explain why I'm alive."
Lina nodded slowly. "You made the right call." Her tone softened slightly. "And thank you… for trusting me with that much."
Felix's lips twitched. "Thank you… for saving my life."
"You're welcome. Just don't make it a habit."
"I'll try."
She stepped to the side, lifting a small pouch from the cabinet. "Rest. Your body is still healing. Whatever transformation you went through, it didn't erase the physical toll."
Felix closed his eyes. "One more thing."
"Hm?"
"When I breathed just now… I could see the spiritual threads in this room. The essence in the herbs, the flow of alchemical reactions. I saw the crack in your ceiling beam—moisture damage."
Lina blinked. "That beam is above the herbal drying rack. No one but me noticed that crack."
"I see more than I should," he whispered. "And I feel like I'm only beginning."
She regarded him for a long moment before responding. "Then be careful. Some knowledge can consume you."
He nodded faintly. "I'll keep that in mind."
Lina left the room, her steps quiet, measured. Despite her pride, her power, and her poise, Felix understood. He wasn't just a patient anymore. He had become something… different.
And as Felix sank deeper into the comfort of the bed, letting sleep reclaim him, he whispered the name again in his mind:
Breath of the Mystic Vessel.
A path forged in crisis. A method born not of lineage, nor guild, nor power.
But of will.