What did you say?" Quinn asked, his gaze fixed on Zi, his voice calm but carrying that quiet weight that always made her hesitate.
Zi's lips parted slightly, but then she turned her head away, muttering, "It's nothing," before abruptly spinning on her heel and storming out of the room.
The door closed with a sharp thud, leaving a faint echo in the still air.
Quinn blinked once, confused. "Nothing, she says…" he murmured. He sat down on the edge of the bed, his mind replaying her expression—the faint scowl, the flicker of something more than simple annoyance in her eyes.
She had always been calm, gentle, almost too sweet at times. But ever since they arrived at the capital, her emotions had begun to shift—sudden bursts of irritation, strange moments of silence, and that shadow that sometimes passed through her gaze when she thought he wasn't looking.
He leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "What changed, Zi?"
Outside, the sun dipped below the rooftops of the capital, washing the streets in a blend of gold and violet. The distant chatter faded, replaced by the occasional creak of carts and the soft hum of the evening breeze.
By the time the city quieted completely, Quinn rose from the bed, brushing back his hair.
"Restless again," he muttered under his breath, stepping out into the small courtyard behind the inn. The moon hung above, pale and watchful. The faint mist curling along the ground shimmered faintly in its glow.
He stood still for a long moment, then exhaled slowly and spread his fingers. A faint hum filled the air as threads of dark energy coiled around his arm, like smoke drawn to his pulse. The ground trembled faintly beneath his feet.
"Let's see how much I've improved after the fight," he said quietly.
He sank into his stance, calling forth his soul energy. Chains of darkness flickered faintly behind him before fading again, leaving only faint ripples in the air. Sweat gathered on his brow as his breathing deepened, rhythm steady and controlled.
For hours, he practiced—each movement sharp and deliberate, his control over the Soul Chains more refined, more fluid. But when he finally stopped and sat cross-legged beneath the moonlight, closing his eyes to sense his core, frustration crept across his face.
"…Still no progress."
He could feel it—the thin barrier that refused to break no matter how much energy he poured into it. He was close, agonizingly close, yet something held him back.
He opened his eyes slowly. "It seems I've reached the limit of my current stage."
He let out a quiet sigh. His mind drifted back to the teachings he'd once read about the path of cultivation—a long, brutal road divided into seven stages, each one a mountain steeper than the last.
The First Stage, known as the Spirit Awakening, where one senses their own spiritual core and awakens their essence. The Second Stage, Foundation Strengthening, when the cultivator stabilizes their core and builds their energy channels. The Third Stage, Soul Binding, where one merges soul and body, gaining the ability to wield essence as an extension of will. The Fourth Stage, Core Formation, the true dividing line between mortals and adepts—where the energy condenses into a spiritual core. The Fifth Stage, Soul Manifestation, where one's soul gains a visible form, often reflected as a unique aura or projection. The Sixth Stage, Ascendant Vein, where energy flows freely through every channel, granting control over life and death itself. And finally, the Seventh Stage, Heaven's Descent—a realm beyond mortal reach, where only those who defied heaven's order could step. He heard that no one has ever reached this stage before.
Quinn exhaled softly, gazing at his hands. "I'm still at the peak of Soul Binding… yet the path to Core Formation feels so far away."
His chains stirred faintly behind him, reacting to his thoughts like restless spirits.
"I need more essence… stronger essence," he murmured, closing his hand into a fist. "Until then, I remain caged at this level."
He rose to his feet, brushing the dirt from his trousers. The faint glow of the moon caught the scar along his collarbone, a reminder of countless battles survived.
From the shadows of the courtyard, a soft sound echoed—a creak, light but deliberate. Quinn's head turned instantly, his eyes narrowing.
"Who's there?" he called out, his voice calm yet sharp.
But there was no response. Only the rustling of leaves.
Still, Quinn didn't move for a while. His instincts rarely lied. Someone had been watching.
When he finally returned to his room, Zi's bed was empty. The pillow and blanket lay undisturbed, as if she hadn't come back at all.
His jaw tightened. "Where did you go, Zi?"
He was tempted to go find her but on second thought, he decided against it. Though it still worried him that she hasn't returned, he knew that she'd definitely come back.
That night, he returned to his room and even when he felt sleepy, he could not close his eyes — Not when his sister was yet to return.
Moments later, he began to approaching footsteps. He rose to his feet, thinking that it was Zi but listening to the footsteps well, he discovered that they didn't belong to his sister at all.
"Who could it be?" He mumbled and went to the window. He peeked through it but could not see whoever was there.
He was alarmed immediately.
He walked gently to the door and hid behind it. Soon, the footsteps got nearer and next, The door creaked open slowly, a faint sliver of moonlight cutting through the dim room.
Quinn's eyes narrowed as he steadied his breathing, his hand hovering near his waist. The footsteps stopped just inside the doorway, hesitant but cautious. Whoever it was, they were trying not to make a sound.
In one swift motion, Quinn moved.
His arm wrapped tightly around the intruder's neck, the other hand gripping the boy's wrist before the latter could react. The faint glint of something metallic slipped from the boy's sleeve and clattered softly to the floor.
"Who are you?" Quinn demanded, his voice low but edged.
"Wait—wait! It's me!" the boy wheezed, his voice trembling.
Quinn's eyes narrowed further. "You?"
"It's me, the boy from earlier! The one who gave you something to hold for me!" the boy said quickly, his tone a mix of fear and urgency.
For a moment, Quinn said nothing. He remembered him now—the same boy from that strange encounter at the streets who was being chased after, the one he had been expecting to come and retrieve the box he gave him to keep for him.
Slowly, Quinn released his grip, but his expression remained sharp. "Why were you sneaking around? And how did you even know I was staying here?"
The boy rubbed his neck, wincing slightly before glancing toward the closed door. His eyes darted about nervously. "I… I followed you here," he admitted in a low voice. "I didn't mean to intrude, I swear. I just… needed to make sure you still had it."
Quinn's expression hardened. "You followed me all the way from the market to this place?"
The boy shook his head quickly. "No, not from the gates. I—I just asked around. You weren't hard to find."
Quinn crossed his arms, his gaze unflinching. "And why is that box so important that you had to sneak into my room in the middle of the night instead of knocking on the door like a sane person?"
The boy's lips pressed tightly together. He looked like he was struggling with what to say.
"I can't explain anything to you," he said.
"Then, say goodbye to it," Quinn said and walked back to his head.
The boy gasped and went after Quinn. "Okay, fine, I'll tell you everything but promise me that you won't sell me out."
"I won't. Now speak!"
"That box contains a pill called the longevity pill, made by the Feng Clan — known for making pills. The pill is capable of extended a dying person's life, adding another twenty years to them. It is highly sort after by many people. My mother is on the verge of dying, and I do not want her to die because she's the only person left in this world for me... If she dies, I do not know what will become of me."
"So to save your mother, you stole the Feng Clan's longevity pill?" Quinn asked.
"Yes."
"Are you not scared of what will happen to you if you're caught?" Quinn asked.
"I am no as long as my mother is still alive."
"Have you ever wondered what will become of your mother if something bad happens to you?" Quinn asked again.
"I—" the truth soon dawned on the boy. He had never for once thought about the results of his actions whether good or bad.
Quinn sighed, gazing at the now-quiet boy. "Before making a decision, think about those around you. Unless you have no one to take care, do not make stupid decisions for yourself."