Seojin felt dazed, as if his memories as both Yoon Seojin and Seven Hart had merged into one.
"Fudge. Bring it on."
He took a loooong breath and closed his eyes.
From what he remembered, there were two zi paths: zi star, the path of magic, and zi ring, the path of the sword.
His path was the latter.
To ascend, he had to form a ring of zi around his heart. It sounded simple, but Seven Hart had tried many times before and failed every single one.
Then again, that was Seven.
Seojin steadied his breathing.
"The novel said that the ascendant rate is seven to ten. That's a good number."
At his age, most had already formed at least one path. Failure belonged to the minority, since not everyone has the ability to try again after a failed attempt.
Someone who carried the blood of Hart could not afford to be part of that minority.
Truth is, his older Hart siblings had already formed two rings by this age, with the eldest standing so far ahead that comparison felt meaningless.
Time passed, and an hour had passed.
Seojin remained seated, legs crossed and back straight, his senses turned inward.
There were three ways to ascend: through meditation, through accumulated knowledge and training, or through assistance from someone beyond the transcendent stage.
Meditation was considered the most accessible; it was also the most dangerous.
To ascend through meditation, one had to guide the zi flowing within the body back toward the heart, forcing it against the natural current of the arteries (the Yang flow) instead of letting it drift with the veins (the Yin).
It meant carving a reverse path inside one's own body.
There was once a prince who tried the latter way, Arven, the third Prince of Valen. He believed he could let his zi follow the Yin back to his heart instead of struggling against the flow of Yang.
It seemed a gentler and smarter method, but Arven died without a wound on his body.
Sovereign healers only knew what kind of risk Arven had attempted upon investigating his cadaver.
That is, the pathogenic substances of Yin flow clogged the veins, leading to a blockage— the accumulation of both zi and blood, and Arven exploded inside out.
The incident was recorded in history as a warning and called as:
"The Prince's Path…"
Seojin gulped.
No matter how desperate he is, he should avoid walking that same path if he didn't want to share the same fate as the Prince of Valen.
Two hours had passed.
Seojin still felt nothing except the numbness in his legs and the faint blow of winter air against his skin, passing through the curtains.
'Shit! Why does this body take too long to sense even the slightest drop of zi in its blood stream? Damn it.'
Two hours became three, then four.
By the fifth hour, his heartbeat echoed loudly in his ears as sweat gathered at his temples.
Until…
'There…'
Seojin felt a faint tingling sensation inside his arteries. It was subtle like a static beneath the skin, but it was unmistakable as his eyes trembled beneath closed lids.
In his memories, Seven Hart had only felt this kind of sensation around the sixth hour.
'An hour earlier than I expected, but this is enough to start the real thing.'
Seojin carefully followed the sensation, tracing the faint thread of zi mixed in his blood.
This was where Seven had always failed.
Thing is, zi was not separated from him. It was in the blood itself, diluted within plasma, and followed the bloodstream as they carried oxygen through his arteries.
If blood carried life, then zi was the impulse beneath that life.
'Inhale… don't chase it, Seojin—feel it… exhale.'
Seojin imagined his body not as flesh, but as a network of branching rivers with arteries like bright crimson highways, splitting into finer streams, down to the thin capillaries.
Inside them, billions of red blood cells flowed like disciplined soldiers.
Knock, knock.
"My lord, may I come in?"
Iria called out from outside the door. Hearing no response, Iria entered carrying a tray of lunch in her hands.
"My lord…?"
Iria halted upon seeing her lord sitting in the middle of the room, then placed the tray on the desk and closed the window to block the cold wind.
Iria was not ignorant to the current situation.
"I wish you all the best, my lord. If you ever feel hungry, please help yourself. The food is prepared on the desk."
"..."
Seojin remained motionless; Iria received no response, thus she just bowed slightly and left the room.
Creak.
Seojin had no idea about the lunch and Iria, he had heard nothing of her words. His focus was buried deep within his own bloodstream.
'So this is why bloodlines matter…'
Zi.
As defined, it flows along through the bloodstream of a normal person.
But again, in his case, they were etched on the blood cells as if imprinted on the DNA itself.
Seven had always tried to tear it out, and that was his mistake. Zi resisted separation not because it was stubborn, but because it was attached.
Trying to rip it free mid-current was like trying to pull breath from the lungs without allowing the body to exhale.
Huff…
Seojin adjusted his focus.
Instead of forcing the zi away from the bloodstream, he observed the natural order of circulation.
Arteries carried oxygen-rich blood outward.
Capillaries slowed the flow, allowing oxygen to detach from the red cells and diffuse into surrounding tissues. And when oxygen diffused into the tissues, the zi dispersed with it, scattering throughout the body systems.
Veins carried the deoxygenated blood back to the heart.
It was a perfect cycle.
'Heh… so that's how it was.'
But Seojin realized one thing: those with exclusive bloodlines didn't need to separate and re-route zi against the Yang current; they only needed to prevent its diffusion and simply let it along with Yin.
This explained why they were far ahead of the others.
Thus, as oxygen detached from the hemoglobin and passed into the tissues, Seojin applied the slightest restraint at the exact point of exchange.
In the process, only the oxygen left and zi remained.
Seojin did the same to other capillaries throughout his body.
The process took so long that the sun had already set, and by dinner time, Iria came to check on him.
Iria didn't interrupt him as she knew that this is a pivotal moment for her lord, where he might finally succeed to be an ascendant after years and years of trying.
Instead, Iria placed her hands on his back to warm him, noticing his constant shivers.
Back inside, the red blood cell darkened as it lost its oxygen and entered the veins, or the Yin flow.
Because the zi had never been separated from the blood cell, the veins did not bear two streams at once. There was no added pressure or violent collision of currents like the Prince of Valen had experienced which could lead to a blockage.
The imprinted zi only detached once the deoxygenated blood returned to the heart, and he slowly guided those zi to form an orbit around his heart.
Truth is, the ring is almost formed, as the two ends were like 1 millimeter away from each other.
'Fudge, I did it. I— uguaaaah!!'
Thump!
Seojin's heart suddenly pounded so hard as though it might break through his ribcage.
In that same moment, black hands suddenly emerged from the heart and grabbed the two ends of the ring, splitting them apart and sending a recoil through his body.
"AAAaaAAAaAA! It hurts!!"