The years following Yimi's defiant display at the Youth Showcase had sculpted him into a creature of intense focus and startling physical power, but they had not earned him acceptance. Instead, they earned him a new, chilling type of exclusion. The villagers no longer saw a pitiful failure; they saw an aberration—a human striving to compete with the gods using mere sticks and stones.
Yimi, now sixteen, looked years older than his peers. His face was sharp, etched with the discipline of constant struggle. He was defined by the stillness in his stance and the blur of motion when he fought. While other teenagers practiced summoning larger and brighter Ki-bolts, Yimi was achieving superhuman feats of stamina and balance, able to sprint for hours without tiring and wield his katana with a speed that defied the eye.
The Town Assembly and the Ki-Weavers
The culmination of the training year was the annual Town Assembly, a major event where the most promising youths—those with confirmed High Ki-Flows—were recognized by traveling instructors from regional academies. This year, the stakes were higher, as a representative from the Vanguard Academy itself, an esteemed, armored knight named Sir Karr, was rumored to be attending.
The atmosphere in Aethel's main square was electric. Every youth with a measurable Ki-signature was present, their auras humming with anxious energy. Yimi stood apart, leaning against an ancient stone pillar, his inert katana sheathed at his hip. He didn't want to be there, but he needed to study his future rivals.
Leading the charge of smug confidence was Kael. Now sixteen, Kael had become everything the village hoped for: tall, powerfully built, and radiating a massive, almost visible golden Ki-aura. He was the golden boy, already capable of minor Ki-manipulation—the ability to shape energy beyond mere blasts. He was a Ki-Weaver.
Kael and his entourage of lesser Ki-users spotted Yimi immediately. The crowd seemed to hold its breath, anticipating the inevitable friction.
Kael sauntered over, his steps unnervingly light due to a subtle Ki-boost. He stopped a few feet from Yimi, his golden aura casting Yimi's quiet, dark form into stark relief.
"Look what the wind dragged in," Kael drawled, his voice loud enough to carry. "The shadow of a man. Still clinging to that dead piece of metal, Voidling?"
Yimi met his eyes, his expression utterly neutral. "The metal is very much alive in my hands, Kael. More than can be said for your wit."
A wave of nervous laughter rippled through the onlookers. Kael, unused to being challenged by the 'unattuned,' flushed, and his Ki-aura flared brighter in irritation.
"Wit? We don't need wit, Yimi," Kael sneered. He held out his hand, and the air around it shimmered. With a snap of concentration, a tiny, perfectly formed crystal figurine of a soaring eagle manifested from raw Ki. It glowed golden, a testament to his burgeoning weaving skills.
"We have power," Kael continued, tossing the figurine in the air. "You have sweat, strain, and a rusted knife. Which one wins the wars, Yimi? Which one earns the glory?"
"The one who survives," Yimi replied instantly. "And your Ki-constructs are beautiful, Kael. But beautiful things break."
The Public Test and the Crushing Blow
The Assembly soon began the main demonstrations. As expected, Kael and his cohort excelled, showing off advanced Ki-control. Finally, the instructors called for a demonstration of Ki-Shields against heavy assault, a requirement for anyone considering an elite academy like Vanguard.
A heavily Ki-armored instructor would fire a series of powerful, low-level Ki-blasts, and the students had to maintain a shield strong enough to deflect the impacts. Kael stepped up first, generating a shield of glowing gold energy that absorbed the impacts with ease, the instructor praising his immense reservoir.
Then, to everyone's shock, Sir Karr, the Vanguard Knight, stood up. He pointed directly at Yimi.
"You," the Knight's voice boomed, sharp and demanding. "The one with the inert blade. You've been watching. Show us your defense."
The crowd gasped. It was a cruel jest. Yimi couldn't form a shield.
Yimi stepped into the center circle, his heart pounding, but his face a mask of focus. He knew this was the moment he had yearned for and dreaded. He would not give in to humiliation.
"Sir Knight," Yimi said, his voice ringing with clarity, "I do not wield Ki. I cannot form a shield."
Sir Karr's expression was unreadable behind his helm. "A pity. Then you will face the assault without one. Show us how a body of mere flesh defends itself against the current."
It was a challenge, a public execution of his ambition, but Yimi saw a sliver of opportunity. This was a chance to demonstrate his ultimate weapon: evasion.
The instructor fired the first Ki-blast, a blue, concentrated sphere of pure force. It was moving too fast for the eye to track.
Yimi didn't activate his muscles to block or absorb; he activated them to flee the space. He shifted his weight, rotating his hips and dropping his center of gravity in a movement so quick, so perfectly timed, that the blast shot past his ear and vaporized a chunk of stone behind him.
A murmur of astonishment swept the square.
The instructor, intrigued, fired two more blasts in rapid succession. Yimi became a blur. He moved like water, flowing away from the explosions, using micro-movements to avoid the deadly energy. He wasn't relying on luck; he was relying on the thousands of hours spent dodging imaginary Ki-bolts in the Ki-shadow clearing. He dodged one by leaning back so far his spine nearly snapped, and the other by dropping into a low, lunging split.
Sir Karr, who had leaned forward, nodded slowly. "Observation and speed. Impressive. But what happens when the force is too great to simply evade?"
Kael, seizing the moment, stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with malicious intent. "Let me show him, Sir Knight. I will give him a force he cannot dance away from."
Kael raised both hands, and a massive, rolling wave of golden Ki gathered between them. It was a controlled but devastating display of raw power—a Ki-Tidal Wave.
"Yimi, stop!" Haku cried out from the crowd, his voice laced with terror.
Yimi knew he couldn't dodge this. The wave was too wide, too encompassing. This was the pure, overwhelming force of Ki, and he had no countermeasure.
But he still had his blade.
Instead of running, Yimi did the unthinkable: he charged toward the Ki-Tidal Wave. He drew his katana in a blinding flash, taking the deepest breath of his life.
He knew that a single concentrated point of metal could not deflect a wave of energy, but he had one chance: to strike the core—the moment of energy formation.
In a move that looked like suicide, Yimi focused all his physical force into a single, accelerating leap. As the wave surged toward him, he executed a perfect, two-handed Overhead Cleave. The blade screamed through the air with a sound that was pure kinetic energy, reaching its maximum velocity just as it was about to touch the energy.
He didn't hit Kael, but he hit the center of Kael's projected Ki-construct.
The impact wasn't a clash; it was a shredding. Yimi's pure-steel velocity, focused to a razor-thin point, sliced through the less-dense, less-stable center of the Ki-Wave, causing the construct to destabilize and collapse in on itself with a loud thwump of dissipated energy.
The attack failed. But Yimi had proven that even the densest Ki could be rendered ineffective by pure, perfect speed and precision—if you found the weakness.
Kael, shocked by the collapse of his technique, reacted instinctively and viciously. He used the residual energy in his hand, not for a controlled blast, but for a massive, Ki-enhanced backhand swipe. It was a move born of rage and wounded pride.
Yimi, already committed to the leap and off-balance from the cleave, could not dodge. The backhand connected with his side.
The force was monumental. It felt like being struck by a charging mountain beast. Yimi was thrown twenty feet, skidding across the dirt and slamming into the stone pillar with a sickening crunch. His vision swam, and a searing pain exploded in his ribs. The inert katana skittered away, dull and quiet, a piece of trash again.
Kael stood over him, breathing heavily, his Ki-aura flickering wildly, a victor who felt cheated.
The Turning Point: Sir Karr's Judgment
The crowd was silent, the previous murmuring replaced by profound shock. Yimi lay still for a moment, the blood trickling from his lip.
Then, slowly, agonizingly, he pushed himself up. He ignored the fire in his side, the throbbing in his head. He looked straight at Kael, and then at Sir Karr.
"You see, Knight?" Kael spat, gesturing at Yimi's crumpled form. "He has no Ki. He relies on brute force and desperation. That is the limit of the Voidling."
Yimi staggered, leaning heavily on the pillar. He wiped the blood from his mouth and found his voice, weak but clear.
"That blast… was fueled by anger, Kael. It was sloppy, uncontrolled. You relied on raw power when you were embarrassed, not discipline. My defense failed, yes, but your control broke first."
Kael took a threatening step forward, but Sir Karr raised a gauntleted hand, silencing him.
The Vanguard Knight walked slowly over to Yimi. He looked down at the bruised, bleeding boy who had just taken a devastating Ki-blast and was still standing. He looked at the discarded katana. He finally spoke, his voice carrying the authority of the realm.
"Ki is the ultimate power," Sir Karr stated, addressing the crowd. "But power without precision is only a storm. This boy…" He nudged the katana with his armored boot. "He faced a power that should have broken every bone in his body. He did not possess the Ki to defend himself, yet he possessed the discipline to try and defeat the force at its inception. His body is frail, but his will is the strongest shield I have seen today."
He looked directly at Yimi, his gaze piercing through the helm's visor. "You are foolish. You are reckless. You will die quickly in the Vanguard."
Yimi stood tall, ignoring the pain. "Then I will die quickly, Sir Knight. But I will die having reached the highest ground. I will not be defined by the absence of Ki. I will be defined by the strength of my mind."
Sir Karr studied him for a long moment, a moment that stretched to an eternity. He then turned, walking away from the shocked crowd.
"The entrance exams for the Vanguard Academy begin in six months," Sir Karr announced to the instructors, his back to Yimi. "Standard admission requires a confirmed Tier-Three Ki-Reservoir. However, the ancient charter allows for one Exception Admission per generation—a candidate who exhibits extraordinary skill in areas where Ki is unnecessary, such as strategy, physical mastery, or unique artistry."
He paused, then added, almost as an afterthought: "Should the exception candidate possess skills that can compete effectively against Ki-users in a combat setting, they may be allowed to take the physical and tactical exams, bypassing the Ki-Reservoir Test entirely. It is a suicide clause, but it exists."
The Knight stepped up into his carriage. As the doors closed, Sir Karr's final words echoed across the stunned square, directed solely at Yimi:
"If you are still alive, Voidling, appear at the Vanguard Gate in six months. Bring your blade. You have earned the right to try and fail."
The carriage wheels began to turn. Yimi didn't move. He felt the pain, yes, but beneath the agony, a profound, chilling sense of triumph surged through him. He had been given a challenge, not a hand-out. He had been given a way forward where there was none before. He had heard the voice of the world's elite, and they hadn't dismissed him; they had, begrudgingly, acknowledged his will.
The Resolve of the Ki-less
Haku and Elara rushed to him, tears streaming down their faces, torn between relief that he was alive and horror that he had been accepted into a path of certain death.
"Yimi, no! You heard him! It's a death sentence!" Elara pleaded, trying to check his broken ribs.
Yimi gently pushed her hands away, finding his katana and slowly, painfully sheathing it. He looked back at the Vanguard Knight's retreating carriage, his eyes burning with a fierce, quiet fire.
"No, Mother," he whispered, a smile touching his lips despite the pain. "It is an invitation."
He knew the next six months would be the most brutal of his life. He would have to push his body beyond the limits of human endurance, transforming his physical prowess into a weapon sharp enough to cut through Ki. He would have to heal faster, run longer, and strike harder than any Ki-user could ever imagine.
As he was helped away from the square, the villagers watching him were silent, their contempt finally replaced by an uneasy respect. They knew Yimi was embarking on an impossible quest, a defiance of the fundamental laws of their world. But they had seen his will, and for the first time, they understood that Yimi's greatest strength was not his speed, but his utter, terrifying refusal to quit.
The journey to Vanguard, the land of power and prestige, had begun.