The Frostfort's icy halls loomed around me, their stone walls etched with frost that glittered like trapped starlight. I shuffled back to my cell, clutching a notebook and writing tools from So Yun, her parting gift of healing pills tucked in my spatial ring. The pills—Spiritual Rebirth, 99% purity—were a marvel, mending spiritual damage and bolstering my energy centers. Their value was unimaginable, perhaps priceless. So Yun's alchemy was no boast, and her kindness stirred a warmth I hadn't felt in weeks.
I collapsed onto my creaking bed, too drained for sleep. Curiosity gnawed, and I probed my ring's contents. Papers first—Phoenix Sect invoices, elder orders, disciple lists, my assignment as a servant, not a disciple, and a letter to Elder Lu ordering my death. Proof of my clan's betrayal, but useless now. I burned them, hiding the ash in my ring. Who knew if masters could reconstruct such things?
Next, a talisman of black blades and a book. The Book of Ash, a Spiritual-rank artifact, radiated heat, its black leather cover veined with glowing lava. It could summon a cloud of scalding ash, controlled by qi mastery, with a 500-unit qi reserve and an unknown effect. A weapon of mass destruction, but its mystery—tied to my clan—made me wary. I hid it back in the ring.
My sword, the Phoenix Blade, was clearer. A Heavenly-rank artifact with indestructibility, celestial sharpness, qi conductivity, and the primal fury of a Phoenix, capable of defying Heaven's laws. Only indestructibility was active, my qi too weak for the rest. Still, it was a treasure, a lifeline.
I meditated, Song of Pure Flame and So Yun's pills working miracles. Pain lingered, but my meridians mended, each session easing the damage. I left my cell only to eat, the Frostfort's mess hall a blur of faces and murmurs. On the ninth day, devouring savory dumplings, panic struck—I'd forgotten my tasks! Every ten days, I needed to complete one, or lose 100 points.
I rushed to the task board, choosing patrol. The worm fiasco seemed a fluke; with peak Qi Condensation, I could handle minor threats. At the gates, I met two disciples—a lanky boy and a sharp-eyed girl. We circled the fortress for hours, the icy wind biting, the landscape a sea of snow and jagged ice. Two harugs—giant white rats—crossed our path. I dispatched them with ease, testing Devourer. Their qi flowed into me, a faint stream that dulled my pain. No discomfort, only relief.
We returned, task complete, earning me ten points. I spent them in the library, where knowledge was costly. So Yun's 100 points dwindled to twenty, books loaned briefly, forbidden from leaving. I studied, learning of the three spiritual nodes—head, heart, groin—key to Meridian Tempering. Opening them was the breakthrough, but the method was in another book, costing 100 points a day. I lacked the funds. Knowledge was a luxury here.
Seven days passed, my routine of study and meditation unbroken. I felt wretched, but wiser. Then Aina appeared, her silver-streaked hair catching the library's dim light.
"Hey, frostbite," she giggled.
"Know the sect's buzzing about you?"
"Why?" I smirked, glancing around. Two girls nearby averted their eyes, feigning disinterest.
"Seriously?"
"No news here, just breakthroughs," she said.
"Then you—brawls, vanishing, cozying up to Master So."
"What's wrong with So Yun?" I squinted.
"Nothing! She's kind, wise. Oh, she wants you—urgently. I'm your escort, so you don't get lost again."
She chattered about sect gossip as we walked, names blurring. I realized I'd isolated myself, cultivation consuming me while the sect's life passed by. A true cultivator's path, I mused wryly.
At So Yun's chambers, she greeted me with a theatrical sigh.
"Little Kai, neglecting me these cold evenings? How cruel."
"Sorry, Sister So," I said, bowing.
"I'm healing to form a core and keep my promise."
"Tch, cheeky boy," she laughed, pulling me inside.
"Let's check your progress."
Her diagnostic techniques washed over me, a tingling wave. After ten minutes, she gasped.
"I'm a genius, but not this good. Kai, what's your secret?"
"Good progress?" I asked, hope flickering.
"Good? It's miraculous! Your qi circulation could normalize in ten years!" she exclaimed.
"But you said ten years before," I frowned.
"I… exaggerated to spare you," she admitted, eyes downcast.
"Now I'm not lying."
"No offense taken. Thank you," I said, shaking my head.
"I don't know why you're so kind."
"You weren't this humble before," she laughed.
"But there's another reason I called. Kai, how about joining the Frost Plum Grove expedition?"
My heart raced. The Grove—Li's marvel, Ryu's kind spirits. Opportunity or danger?
"What's the catch?" I asked, wary.
"No catch," she smiled, but her eyes held a glint.
"It's a chance to earn points, gather resources. You're strong enough, even injured. But there are risks—beasts, rival sects. Will you go?"
I hesitated, my meridians aching, my mind racing. The Grove could accelerate my healing, but at what cost? What dangers lurked in its frost-kissed depths, and was I ready to face them?