## Chapter 6: The Ghost in the Garden
The faint, constant hum of **Ghost Veil** was Kael Draven's new reality. Like the steady rhythm of his own heartbeat or the perfected flow of **Dust Gatherer's Breath**, it operated just beneath the surface of his consciousness, a silent shield woven from willpower and refined technique. In the bustling, fragrant chaos of the Herb Preparation Annex, Kael moved with the practiced dullness of a fixture. He washed **Common Low-Grade** Earthroots with numb efficiency, sorted bundles of pungent **Moonpetal Weed**, and ground dried herbs into coarse powders under the indifferent gaze of Disciple Silas (Body Tempering Rank 2) and the meticulous scrutiny of Master Gellert.
Yet, beneath the cloak of **Ghost Veil**, Kael was acutely aware of the subtle changes within. **Body Tempering Rank 1** wasn't a transformation; it was an awakening. His calloused hands, gripping the rough tubers, registered texture with unnerving clarity – the minute ridges of dirt, the subtle give of the root flesh. The constant, low-level ache of his malnourished frame had receded, replaced by a dense, resilient vitality humming beneath his skin. He could likely lift Master Gellert's heavy iron mortar now with one hand, though he carefully used two, maintaining the facade of mortal frailty. His senses, subtly enhanced, picked out individual conversations amidst the Annex's din: Silas complaining about patrol duty, Gellert muttering ratios for a **Rare Low-Grade** stamina tonic, the whispered gossip of other servants.
He was a ghost observing a world he couldn't yet touch. And observation was his sharpest tool.
His duties often took him to the periphery of the Annex's courtyard, where carts laden with freshly gathered herbs arrived from the family's modest cultivation plots and surrounding wilderness. He saw the ranking system in stark display:
* **Common Low-Grade (Earthroot, Moonpetal Weed):** Piled high in wicker baskets, handled carelessly.
* **Common Mid-Grade (Stonespike Thistle, Sun-Drop Moss):** Sorted into slightly sturdier crates.
* **Common High-Grade (Brightcap Fungus):** Carefully laid on trays, handled with gloves by Gellert himself.
* **Uncommon Low-Grade (Silverleaf Clover, Frost Nettle):** Stored in simple wooden boxes within the Annex, under Silas's lazy watch.
* **Uncommon Mid-Grade (Veined Earthroot - like his hidden treasure):** Kept in a locked cabinet Gellert alone accessed.
* **Rare Low-Grade (Bloodmoss, Whisperroot):** Secured in the iron-banded chest, its key always on Gellert's person.
Power, even botanical power, demanded security proportional to its rank. Kael noted it all. He also noted the waste. Discarded stems, slightly bruised leaves, roots deemed too small or irregular – all **Common Low-Grade** remnants – were swept into a compost pile behind the Annex. To the Gravestone family, it was refuse. To Kael, it was potential fuel.
One overcast afternoon, while hauling a basket of compost scraps, Kael spotted something glinting dully amidst the wilted greens. A small, knobbly root, partially crushed, radiating a faint, familiar warmth to his newly sensitive perception. **Earthroot**, yes, but this one felt... denser. Warmer. He recalled Gellert lecturing a careless gatherer about a patch found near an old spirit vein seepage. **Sun-Touched Earthroot**. A variant pushed to **Common Peak-Grade**, possessing marginally more potent vitality-boosting essence than its Low-Grade brethren. Worthless to the Annex for refined work. Precious to him.
**Ghost Veil** ensured no eyes lingered as he subtly scooped the root into his sleeve alongside a handful of other damp, decaying scraps. No theft, merely handling refuse. The risk was negligible, the gain tangible. He added it to his meager hoard beneath the loose floorboard in his hut: the **Uncommon Low-Grade Veined Earthroot** and now this **Common Peak-Grade Sun-Touched Earthroot**.
His cultivation progress, fueled solely by the meager ambient energy and **Dust Gatherer's Breath**, was glacial. The System confirmed it: **[ Body Tempering Realm - Rank 1/10 - Progress: 12% ]**. He needed more. He needed to unlock the **Energy Absorption** function's true potential – consuming Natural Treasures.
But caution screamed. Consuming even a **Common Peak-Grade** herb raw could cause visible effects – a flush of vitality, a momentary surge of warmth detectable by a keen observer like Gellert or even Silas. He needed a way to process it. To dilute it. To hide its consumption.
His answer came from observing Master Gellert's most mundane task: brewing the vast vats of basic stamina tea for Outer Hall Disciples. The recipe was simple: **Common Low-Grade Moonpetal Weed** and **Common Low-Grade Earthroot** boiled for hours, strained, and diluted. A harmless, mildly invigorating brew. The perfect carrier.
Kael began a new, silent project. During his breaks, hidden in the shadowed corner behind the compost pile, he used a smooth, fist-sized river stone he'd pocketed – a crude **Wood Grade** artifact in function only – to painstakingly grind tiny slivers he shaved off the **Sun-Touched Earthroot** into the finest powder he could manage. It took days. Patience was his greatest cultivated skill. He stored the minuscule amount of **Common Peak-Grade** powder in a folded leaf.
One evening, assigned to stir the massive tea cauldron under Silas's bored supervision, Kael saw his chance. Silas was distracted, complaining loudly to another disciple about the Stoneheart Sect's "border encroachment" and the Third Elder's mounting fury over the missing Skyhawk. As Kael stirred the bubbling, pale green liquid, he subtly flicked the folded leaf from his sleeve. The tiny puff of **Sun-Touched Earthroot** powder vanished into the roiling vat, instantly diluted beyond any possible detection amidst gallons of **Common Low-Grade** brew. He stirred diligently, his expression blank, **Ghost Veil** dampening any flicker of anticipation.
That night, when the watered-down tea was distributed to the servants' quarters, Kael drank his portion slowly. It tasted as it always did – faintly bitter, grassy. But as it settled in his stomach, **Dust Gatherer's Breath** automatically engaged. The ember in his dantian flared, brighter and warmer than before. He felt a distinct, gentle wave of vitality spread through his limbs, soothing residual fatigue, subtly strengthening the resilient layer beneath his skin. The System confirmed the surge:
**[ ENERGY ABSORPTION TRIGGERED: Diluted Common Peak-Grade Natural Treasure (Sun-Touched Earthroot) ]**
**[ ENERGY POINTS GAINED: +5 ]**
**[ BODY TEMPERING REALM - RANK 1/10 - PROGRESS: 17% (+5%) ]**
Five points. A pittance compared to his daily passive absorption (still capped at 10 points in the servant quarters), but a significant leap in cultivation progress. More importantly, it was *safe*. Undetectable. The ghost had found a way to siphon power from the masters' table scraps.
He repeated the process sparingly over the next week, using minuscule amounts of the **Sun-Touched Earthroot** powder. Each time, a tiny surge of energy, a fractional advancement. **[ Progress: 23%... 29%... 36%... ]**. He hoarded the precious **Uncommon Low-Grade Veined Earthroot**, sensing its significantly denser energy. That required more planning. Perhaps ground into a poultice for a "stubbed toe"? Or saved for a critical moment? He stored it away, a hidden ace.
The political undercurrents grew stronger. Tension crackled in the Outer Hall. More patrols went out towards the Whisperleaf Forest border. More returned bruised or not at all. Rumors flew among the servants, fueled by overheard disciple conversations:
* "Stoneheart denies everything! Calls the glove a trophy from a bandit raid!"
* "Third Elder is demanding restitution... and the Skyhawk's return."
* "Heard whispers of a Skystride Realm Elder from Stoneheart being spotted near the border ruins... Ancestor's breath, that's trouble!"
* "The Ironfang Legion garrison in Wildborn Town is on heightened alert. Looks bad."
Kael absorbed it all, a silent sponge. Conflict brewed. Conflict meant chaos. Chaos could be opportunity... or death for an unnoticed servant. He needed to be stronger. Faster. Not just enduring, but capable.
Observing the Outer Hall Disciples' drills became his other obsession. He didn't watch the flashy strikes or powerful displays from higher ranks. He watched the footwork. The weight shifts during the **Ironhide Stance (Basic/Low-Grade Battle Technique)**. The efficient way a Rank 3 disciple named Borin moved between targets during sparring drills – not fast, but *economical*, wasting no motion. It wasn't a named technique; it was applied principle.
Kael started practicing in the deepest shadows of the servants' latrine block late at night. Not forms, not strikes. **Movement**. Silent steps. Shifting his weight from heel to ball of the foot without a sound. Pivoting smoothly. Ducking under imaginary obstacles. He integrated **Ghost Veil** and **Dust Gatherer's Breath**, making his movements extensions of his concealment and his steady energy flow. He visualized Borin's efficient transitions. He became a shadow practicing how to glide.
**[ OBSERVATION: Self-Devised Movement Principles - Integration with "Ghost Veil" & "Dust Gatherer's Breath" Detected. Minor Enhancement to Stealth, Minor Enhancement to Movement Efficiency. ]**
**[ DESIGNATION: Basic Low-Grade Movement Technique (Tentative - "Shadow's Step") ]**
**[ STATUS: Partially Formed (Requires Refinement/Stabilization via GRIND) ]**
Another piece. A **Basic Low-Grade** technique focused purely on stealth and efficiency of motion. Utterly non-combative. Utterly essential for a ghost. He **Ground** it nightly, his silent dance in the darkness becoming smoother, quieter, more instinctive. Progress was slow but steady: **[ "Shadow's Step" - Progress: 38% ]**.
One afternoon, while washing a particularly large basket of **Common High-Grade Brightcap Fungus** (requiring delicate handling), Kael overheard Master Gellert berating Silas.
"...careless oaf! This batch of **Frost Nettle (Uncommon Low-Grade)** is contaminated! See the grey tinge on these leaves? Mixed with **Gravechill Moss**! Useless for the Third Elder's cooling tonic! Worse than useless – it'll spoil the whole batch! Throw it out! All of it!"
Silas grumbled but gathered the offending bundle – perhaps half a pound of **Uncommon Low-Grade** herb, now deemed worthless. He dumped it unceremoniously onto the compost pile.
Kael's heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic rhythm instantly smoothed by **Ghost Veil**. **Gravechill Moss** was a **Common Mid-Grade** herb with potent chilling properties, dangerous if ingested raw but valuable for specific alchemical processes. Mixed with **Frost Nettle**, it rendered the batch unusable for Gellert's purpose. But to Kael? Was it truly *useless*? Or was it an opportunity wrapped in frost?
He waited until the Annex emptied for the evening meal. Under cover of twilight and his perfected **Ghost Veil**, he approached the compost pile. The discarded bundle lay atop the rotting heap. Carefully, using a scrap of cloth to avoid the nettle's sting and the moss's chill, he separated a small handful of the mixed herbs – perhaps enough for one or two carefully diluted brews. He buried it deep within the compost, marking the spot mentally. He would retrieve it later, under full darkness, using his nascent **Shadow's Step**.
As he walked back towards the servant quarters, the discarded **Uncommon Low-Grade** herbs burning a hole in his mind, Kael Draven felt a familiar thrill. Risk. Opportunity. The quiet pulse of his Rank 1 cultivation. The silent hum of **Ghost Veil**. The growing efficiency of **Shadow's Step**. He was still a servant, still weak in the grand scheme. But he was no longer just enduring. He was learning. Adapting. Gathering resources. Watching the storm gather. And the ghost was becoming harder to see, harder to catch, with every silent, stolen breath. The path forward remained shrouded in danger, but Kael, armed with caution, a System, and a handful of frozen weeds, was starting to navigate the darkness.