By afternoon, the northern cavern looked like a parade ground carved out of stone.
Hundreds of black-robed disciples stood in neat rows. The smell of incense mixed with sweat and torch smoke. Their faces were full of excitement, curiosity… and just a little fear. At the front, a raised stone platform waited like a stage. Behind it, the massive Soul Devouring Furnace rumbled softly, red light flickering inside like a sleeping beast.
Lin Qing stood at the center of the platform, trying to look confident.Inside, he mostly felt like throwing up.
Acolyte Chun stood beside him, holding a broom like it was a divine weapon. Elder Hei, Saintess Yao, and a few other important-looking elders watched from the side. Grandmother Night sat quietly above them, high on a stone balcony.
"So this is everyone?" Lin Qing muttered to Acolyte Chun.
"Yes, Heir! Inner disciples, outer disciples, the elders, and the goat."
"Of course the goat's here," Lin Qing said. "It wouldn't be a real lesson without it."
Elder Hei raised a hand. "The Heir may begin."
Lin Qing stepped forward, heart pounding. Hundreds of eyes followed him. He smiled nervously. "Good afternoon, everyone."
Silence.
He cleared his throat. "Today, we'll be learning the first move of the Heaven Piercing Fist of Eternal Suffering."
That got a reaction. A ripple of awe went through the crowd. Someone whispered, "Heaven Piercing…" like it was a sacred spell.
Lin Qing continued, trying not to sweat. "This move is not about power. It's about control. Before you can strike mountains, you need to breathe properly. Otherwise, you'll hurt yourselves. Or explode. Apparently that's a thing here."
Several disciples looked alarmed. Lin Qing nodded seriously. "Yes. Exploding is bad."
He raised his hands. "Everyone, copy me. Feet apart, shoulders relaxed."
The disciples followed, robes rustling.
"Good. Now breathe in through your nose… hold for a second… then exhale slowly through your mouth."
They did. The sound of a hundred breaths echoed through the cavern. Lin Qing demonstrated again, moving slowly."Inhale… hold… exhale. Don't rush it. The energy inside you—your qi—should move with your breath, not against it."
He placed a hand over his stomach and continued, "Qi comes from your core. When you breathe, you draw it in, guide it up through your body, and let it flow back down. If you force it, it burns you. If you rush it, it escapes."
That was simple enough. It even made sense to him.
"Now, the movement," Lin Qing said. "Raise your hands like you're holding a bowl. Step forward. As you exhale, press your palms out slowly, like you're pushing the air itself. Don't clench. Don't swing. Just push evenly."
He demonstrated. The motion felt smooth. His qi followed the breath naturally. The air in front of him rippled slightly — barely noticeable, but real.
Gasps filled the cavern. The torches along the wall bent toward him.
"Now you try," Lin Qing said.
Hundreds of arms lifted. A wave of slow movements followed. The air shifted again, softer this time. Some disciples wobbled, some went too fast, but most managed a decent press.
"Good," Lin Qing said. "If it feels warm, that's normal. If your nose starts bleeding, that's bad."
He walked among them, correcting postures. "Relax your shoulders. Don't tense your jaw. You're not fighting the air, you're working with it."
Then, from the back rows, a harsh noise broke the rhythm. Several disciples were breathing too fast, their faces red, veins standing out on their necks. The air around them shimmered like heat above a forge.
Lin Qing frowned. "Hey! Slow down! You're forcing it!"
They didn't seem to hear him. The red glow from the Furnace grew brighter. A strange, heavy pressure filled the air, as if the mountain itself was holding its breath.
Elder Hei took a step forward, ready to intervene, but Saintess Yao raised her hand slightly. "Let the Heir handle it."
Lin Qing swallowed. "Of course they would."
He walked toward the struggling group. Their eyes had taken on a faint red tint, and their movements had turned jerky. The qi around them felt… wrong. Wild and heavy.
Lin Qing stopped a few steps away and raised his voice. "Listen! Stop forcing your breath! You're pulling too much qi at once. You'll burn your channels."
No response. One boy's hand trembled violently, the air around his palm warping.
Lin Qing acted before he could think. He stepped in front of them, lifted his hand, and took a slow, deep breath."Inhale… hold… exhale…"
He let his qi move the way he'd practiced that morning — calm, even, natural. The energy rolled through him like a steady current, not fire, not storm. The brazier near the wall flickered once and then steadied. The oppressive air began to thin.
"Follow me!" Lin Qing shouted. "Four counts in, four counts out!"
The disciples nearest him copied the motion. Slowly, the rest followed. The wild heat faded. The red glow in their eyes dimmed. The Furnace's rumble softened until it was just background noise again.
Lin Qing exhaled and nodded. "Better. That's enough for today."
The five disciples who had nearly lost control bowed deeply, trembling. "Forgive us, Heir! The energy— it felt too strong!"
"You weren't wrong," Lin Qing said, serious now. "What you felt was real. But that kind of qi is tainted. It feels powerful at first, but it eats away at your control. That's called corruption."
The crowd murmured. The word traveled like a whisper through the ranks.
Lin Qing continued, speaking plainly so even the slowest disciple could follow. "Corruption is what happens when you pull in too much qi too fast. It's wild energy mixed with your own. If you can't balance it, it takes over."
He pointed to his chest. "Remember this: calm breath means clean qi. Chaotic breath means corruption. That's the difference between a cultivator and a corpse."
The silence that followed was complete. Even the Furnace seemed to listen.
After a moment, Lin Qing smiled again. "Alright. Lesson over. Drink water. Stretch. No one faints on my watch."
Acolyte Chun ran around handing out cups while whispering, "The Heir saved them with one breath!"
Elder Hei stepped up beside Lin Qing, bowing slightly. "Your explanation was simple and true. The sect will record your method."
Saintess Yao smiled faintly. "You called corruption by its proper name, and they understood. That's rare."
"I just told them not to explode," Lin Qing said. "Turns out, that's good leadership."
The elders almost looked amused. Almost.
As the disciples filed out, still whispering excitedly about "clean qi" and the "Heaven Piercing Fist," Lin Qing finally allowed himself to breathe normally again.
He'd done it. He had taught an entire demon sect a breathing exercise.
Acolyte Chun grinned up at him. "Heir, they think you're a genius."
Lin Qing wiped sweat from his forehead. "Good. Let's not ruin that illusion."
He looked back at the Furnace. Its glow had dimmed completely. For now, at least, the mountain was quiet.
"Alright," Lin Qing said. "Next lesson — tomorrow."
Chun nodded. "Will it be another divine technique?"
"Yes," Lin Qing said. "If I live long enough to name it."