"Tell me, what do you know about the Body Tempering Realm?" Fal asked as he and Silva walked through the manor.
"It is the First Realm of Ascension, where the cultivator tempers their mortal body with heaven's breath, bolstering their strength and resilience." Silva answered as if reading from a text, "There are three stages within the Body Tempering Realm, each dedicated to a specific part of the body. The first stage is dedicated to the muscles, forging them into bands of iron; the second stage tempers the skeleton so it may withstand a thousand hammer blows, and the third stage frees the joints and connective tissue from the confines of the body."
Fal nodded once with a satisfied sniff, "Good, even if you're a hundred years late, at least you still remember the basics."
Before Silva could respond, they arrived in front of a set of double doors that he quickly pushed aside, revealing the manor's training room.
Stepping onto the old, faded tatami mats, Fal looked around, "You should have had that Kin servant of yours clean up in here, a layer of dust this thick is frightful."
"I am fortunate to say that Zhuli is no longer a servant; I severed her contract. She is currently deciding what to do with her newfound freedom." Silva informed, causing Fal to look at him sideways.
"I would have expected you to marry her, or take her as a concubine…but severing her contract…that poor girl," Fal muttered disappointedly, "But far be it from me to interfere in the complexities of youthful romance."
"I am nearly a hundred years old, Uncle," Silva reminded Fal, who scoffed, "Exactly, practically a newborn!"
Raising his arm, Fal swept it through the air in front of him, and Silva felt a surge of Qi flow from his uncle. However, instead of tearing through the room, the Qi manifested as a gust of air, throwing open the doors, letting sunlight stream in from the courtyard, and kicking up all the dust lingering on the mats, blowing it outside.
"There, that's better," Fal muttered under his breath as he started to walk through the training room while seemingly summoning items out of thin air. "While one can break through the Body Tempering realm relying solely on cultivation, the drastic changes to the physical body require a significant period of adaptation. A strict martial training regimen can greatly assist in the process and is even rumored to increase the very effects of cultivation itself."
In a matter of seconds, Fal had filled the barren space with a range of equipment, from weighted stones to striking poles and training weapons. When Fal finished ,he nodded to himself once before turning to face Silva, "Here."
Fal then tossed something at Silva, who tracked the glint of silver through the air and deftly caught it in his grasp. Looking down at his hand, Silva smiled as he saw the seemingly plain iron ring. But despite its appearance, the ring was anything but typical, as Silva could sense the faint presence emanating from the metal band —the signature mark of an imbued item.
Sliding the ring onto his middle finger, Silva quickly bit his opposite thumb, causing a drop of blood to bead up on his skin. Silva quickly pressed his thumb against the metal band that grew warm to the touch before shrinking to the perfect size.
"There, your first storage ring, no cultivator would ever live without one," Fal stated confidently, and seeing as it allowed the wearer to store and withdraw any item at will, he was likely correct. "Now, enough distractions, stand in the center and shed your robe."
Silva asked no questions, instead doing what was asked as he reached down and undid the sash around his waist, quickly undressing until he was left in nothing but his undergarments and moving to the center.
Fal then produced a bamboo striking cane from his ring, which he twirled absently before speaking, "Do you still remember your Kata?"
Silva nodded once, "It's been some time, but it won't be long before my body recalls."
"Then, begin," Fal ordered, his tone shifting into a baritone bark that demanded obedience.
With a slow inhale, Silva began to move his body, stepping out with bent knees and an angled hip as he drove his fist forward. But instead of prioritizing speed or striking power, Silva moved at a crawl, focusing on the countless minuscule movements of his body as it sought to balance and control through the striking motion.
When Silva finally completed the movement, his body trembled like an overdrawn bowstring, but before he could transition to the following form, Fal's voice barked once more, "Hold."
Silva froze on the spot, as Fal walked over and inspected Silva's body with a discerning eye, though he didn't restrain his assessment purely to a visual one. With a flick of his wrist, Fal struck Silva across the leg with his cane, the strike echoing throughout the otherwise silent room.
Fal followed the initial strike with five more, placing one across each of Silva's limbs and two across his back. When Fal's strikes ended, Silva's body was drenched in sweat from the physical strain of holding his body in the unfamiliar position while being battered by his uncle's non-too-gentle strikes.
However, despite the seemingly brutal nature of Fal's abuse, no welts or bruises were left on Silva's body, only a faint redness that was barely noticeable with his dark complexion—a sign of Fal's expertise.
The strikes were not a punishment or a form of correction, but a means to help Silva adapt. The sharp, stinging pain shocked Silva's body and cleared his mind, driving out any errant thoughts that would take away from learning the kata.
After his final strike, Fal took a step back and nodded once, looking satisfied, "Continue."
With another inhale, Silva resumed his movement, shifting his weight and turning out his leading foot as he transitioned from a punch to a high kick.
"Hold."
Once more, Silva froze at Fal's command; however, he doubted that he could hold the position for long as he balanced on one leg with the other raised and extended, aimed at the head of his imaginary opponent.
Fal's first strike landed on the back of Silva's supported leg, making it tremble like bamboo before his knee caved, sending him falling to the mat. Landing in a crouch, Silva exhaled through his nose, catching his breath, "That was harder than I remembered it to be."
"It's been decades since you last moved your body in any meaningful way, but if your enthusiasm remains as it was back then, you'll progress quickly," Fal assured Silva, "Especially now that you can utilize the complete training method."
Silva nodded, needing no further instructions as he sat on the floor in a lotus position and closed his eyes. After taking a moment to clear his mind, Silva began cultivating using the network of spiritual roots throughout his body.
As he did, Fal carefully observed Silva's body, while he hadn't made a big issue of it at the moment, Fal had been shaken to his core when he had first seen the golden tendrils in Silva's spirit.
In his centuries of life, Fal had never encountered or heard mention of anything similar to the golden veins, 'I still don't know the specifics of Silva's rebirth, which is no doubt purposeful and the wise choice to make. If word were to spread about his miraculous recovery, mayhem would be the only outcome. There is no shortage of desperate cultivators nearing the end of their vitality, willing to commit any atrocity to give them the slightest chance of moving beyond their bottlenecks.'
Fal's dark thoughts were suddenly interrupted as a powerful current ripped through the dojo, with Silva as its origin. Fal's eyes opened in shock as he felt the ambient Qi being forcefully drawn into Silva's body in a continuous stream, 'H-how is this possible?'
Cultivation was the act of absorbing Qi through the meridians, which connected to the network of pathways originating from the dantian, where a cultivator's Qi was stored. The dantian was also known as the spiritual heart because during cultivation, it possessed a unique rhythmic pulse whose vibrations activated the meridians, beginning the cycle.
There should have been lull moments between the pulsing of Silva's dantian, but there wasn't. Instead, it was a continuous funnel of Qi, flowing at such a rate that Silva threatened to deprive the entire room of Qi.
Observing the abnormality, Fal was even more certain he had made the correct choice, forcing Silva to stay within the pavilion, 'Even the Imperial family would intervene if it meant they could replicate this technique.'
A deep frown fell across Fal's face as he held out his hand and produced a chunk of crystal with a faint blue coloration that was roughly the size of a fist. Clenching his hand, Fal shattered the crystal into a thousand pieces that sublimated into a dense blue vapor. The cloud was then immediately drawn towards Silva, gathering on his skin like dew before steadily shrinking as it entered his spiritual body.
The gemstone Fal had just crushed was azure jade, a form of crystallized Qi that was exceedingly rare, as it only formed naturally over centuries as it condensed in areas of extremely high Qi density. Most cultivators used them as currency because of their wide range of uses.
The most basic being a cultivation aid, physically breaking the crystal back down into usable Qi. Most would avoid such a barbaric method, as without a dedicated shrine designed to contain Qi, the essence released from the crystal would quickly disperse, thereby reducing its efficacy.
But with Silva's speed, the crystal's essence had no time to disperse, meaning he absorbed every last drop.
It was still the equivalent of burning money, but Fal didn't hesitate for a moment, producing a second crystal and then a third, watching as each cloud was pulled towards Silva until he was practically hidden from sight.
Fal would become a beggar if it meant fueling Silva's growth; it was clear that his nephew's journey would be anything but ordinary. And as a cultivator, that meant each step would come with countless trials and tribulations.
'And it is my duty to prepare you for them in your father's absence,' Fal thought solemnly as an additional weight settled on his shoulder, one that he didn't hesitate to bear.
Taking his cane, Fal tapped Silva on the shoulder, who opened his eyes, "Your rest is over, you will go again from the first movement."
Silva nodded wordlessly and stood up to begin the kata once more, and for a moment, Fal felt that something was off, and it wasn't until Silva started the first movement that he realized what it was.
'Dear nephew…why do you insist on making my job so much harder?' Fal bemoaned knowing that Silva fully understood the severity of his capabilities and was purposefully showing them, 'Passively cultivating with a continuous flow of Qi…the heavens truly do have favorites.'
An early barrier to cultivation was simply the time needed to break through. Cultivation required a clear mind to center and awaken the spiritual body ,and while it may have seemed effortless, maintaining a focused meditative state for a prolonged period of time was no easy feat.
Even after hundreds of years, Fal estimated he could maintain a clear mindset for only a few years before his mind would begin to resist the order forced upon it. Buhara's ten years in seclusion were an aberration, though Fal expected nothing less.
But for those with only a few decades experiencing the flow of time, managing a year alone would have been a worthy feat, as it was still a comparatively significant portion of their life. Even the most dedicated would yearn for and even need to diversify their training in order to progress smoothly.
Silva, however, shattered that expectation, 'No wonder you were so quick to accept my bargain, Little Vine.'
Fal couldn't help but shake his head at the absurdity of the situation. 'I wonder how strong you'll be when your father emerges.'