I sit cross-legged in the cave, deep in meditation.
The air is thick with spiritual energy — as always — but something feels off.
I've been here nearly all night, guiding the Qi through my meridians, refining it with precision. But despite my efforts, my level hasn't increased.
Qi Gathering — Level 4. Still.
My brow furrows.
'Why can't I break through to Level 5?'
The Qi flows fine, my control is stable and yet…
Nothing.
Silence settles around me. I sit with the question, turning it over and over.
Then it hits me.
'I lack martial experience.'
Cultivation isn't just internal, what good is Qi if I don't know how to use it?
Then I remember — two years from now, there's a fighting competition between the children of the Xunei Sect. A small-scale event, but it promises rewards… and more importantly, combat experience.
'If I enter and win, I could gain more than just recognition. I could finally understand how to apply what I've cultivated.'
But to fight, I need technique.
A martial art.
I sigh and prepare to leave the cave, brushing dust off my robe.
But as I turn, something catches my eye.
At the back of the cave — a faint line. A fracture in the stone wall.
Cracks.
Thin, barely visible. But there's something off about them — too deliberate. Like something's being hidden.
I walk over and press my palm against the stone. It shifts under the pressure — unstable.
My instincts stir.
I clench my right fist and strike.
Crack.
Excitement sparks in my chest.
I follow with my left — harder.
It shattered.
Stone falls away, revealing a hollow space behind it.
A hidden chamber.
I step through the rubble cautiously, heart pounding.
And there — lying before me in the dim glow of the cave's natural light — is something I never expected.
My eyes widen.