It was after midnight when the boy stirred. Blinking groggily, he saw Jalen seated nearby, legs crossed, eyes closed in meditation. The air shimmered faintly around him, as if the night itself bent to his presence.
"Why do you want to learn cultivation?" Jalen asked, voice calm, eyes still shut.
The boy hesitated. Isn't it obvious? he thought. But aloud, he said, "To get stronger, Senior."
"Why do you want to get stronger?"
"So I don't get bullied every day."
Jalen opened one eye. "That's a childish reason for cultivation."
"Well… I'm a child," the boy muttered. Then, more seriously, "I also want to avenge my father."
Jalen's gaze sharpened. "What happened to your father?"
"According to the sect elders, he died during a clan exhibition."
"And what do you believe?"
The boy swallowed. "At first, I believed them. But one day, I overheard an elder say my father was betrayed—killed by someone prominent in our clan. That the reason my meridians were shattered was because a maid poisoned me when I was five… on that elder's orders."
Jalen's expression darkened.
"He said I was born with high cultivation potential, but it was a tragedy that I was my father's son. I tried to forget it, to believe it was drunken rambling. But when I asked an elder I trusted, he struck me and made me swear never to speak of it again."
The boy looked down, fists clenched. "That's when I realized my father's death wasn't a tragedy. And my lack of cultivation wasn't fate—it was sabotage. But then… you healed me. I'm grateful. But if you don't mind me asking—why?"
Jalen stood and walked slowly toward him. "Your body was being destroyed by a potent poison. It's been in your system for nine years. You should've died long ago."
The boy's eyes widened.
"But your special physique kept you alive."
"Special physique?"
"You were born with a Wind physique."
"What does that mean?"
Jalen gave a rare smile. "Don't worry. I'll teach you everything in time."
The boy's heart leapt. "Does this mean… you'll teach me cultivation?"
Jalen nodded once.
The boy dropped to his knees, forehead touching the stone. "Your student, Nate Yale, greets Master."
Jalen raised a brow. "Don't you need to get home? I would've taken you earlier, but I didn't know where you lived. So I brought you here with me instead."
"Shit!" Nate jumped up. "What time is it? They're going to kill me. I didn't even do my chores. Man, I'm screwed."
Jalen chuckled softly. "Since you're already here, why not stay and learn some basic breathing techniques?"
Nate hesitated. He wanted to run—but temptation won. "I'm already late anyway. I'll be beaten no matter what. Might as well stay."
"Good," Jalen said, settling back into position. "Then let's begin."
___
Jalen stood beneath the moonlight, his robes fluttering gently in the breeze, watching Nate struggle through the first cycle of the breathing technique. The boy's posture was uneven, his focus scattered, and his Qi flow erratic. But he was trying—harder than most.
"Slow your breath," Jalen said calmly. "Feel the wind; don't chase it."
Nate nodded, sweat dripping from his brow. He inhaled deeply, then exhaled too quickly.
"Too fast," Jalen corrected. "Let it settle. The wind doesn't rush—it dances."
Hours passed. Jalen offered quiet critiques, adjusting Nate's stance, guiding his hands, and correcting his rhythm. The boy's Wind Physique responded wildly at first, surging with bursts of energy that left him dizzy and gasping. But Jalen was patient, and Nate was relentless.
By the time the stars began to fade and the first light of dawn crept across the horizon, Nate collapsed, his limbs trembling, his breath shallow. It felt as if the wind had been blown out of him—literally. He passed out on the stone floor, his body spent.
When he awoke, the sun was rising, and Jalen was already seated nearby, a modest meal laid out before him—steamed rice, dried fish, and a bowl of herbal broth that smelled faintly of mint and ginseng. Jalen had gone into the city to buy all of this while Nate was busy snoring.
"You'll need strength," Jalen said without looking up from his book.
Nate ate in silence, grateful and sore. The moment he finished, Jalen stood.
"Again."
And so it began.
__
For three days straight, Nate trained in the Tidal Fall Forest. He woke with the sun, ate quickly, and practiced until his body gave out. Jalen never coddled him, but he never abandoned him either. He was always there—watching, guiding, correcting. Nate forgot about home. Forgot about the beatings. Forgot about the chores he'd once dreaded. All he wanted now was to cultivate.
No one from his clan came looking for him. No one asked where he'd gone. That wasn't surprising. He'd always been seen as trash—an embarrassment. They were probably celebrating his disappearance.
But Nate didn't let that get to him.
He practiced. He breathed. He endured.
By the end of the second week, his Qi flowed smoothly, his spirit root pulsed with vitality, and his body radiated a faint wind aura. He had reached the peak of the Ruby Realm—a level he'd once thought impossible.
Jalen, satisfied with his progress, prepared a medicinal herb bath. The mixture was potent—spirit grass, wind lotus, and crushed jade root. Nate soaked in it for three days, his body absorbing the essence, his muscles strengthening, and his meridians expanding.
When he emerged, Jalen introduced him to two techniques from the Spirit Wind Art: Breath Like Dust and Dance Like the Wind.
The first was subtle—a technique that masked energy and presence, allowing the user to move unnoticed, like dust drifting beneath lantern light.
The second was fluid and evasive, enabling the user to shift unpredictably in combat, as if carried by gusts of wind. On its own, it was graceful and elusive—but when paired with Breath Like Dust, it became something more: motion without memory, a way to vanish into the breeze.
Nate mastered both within days. His Wind Physique made the techniques feel natural and intuitive. Jalen, who had spent a few months refining them, watched with quiet astonishment as the boy surpassed his expectations.
By the end of the sixth week, Nate had reached the mid-Sapphire Realm. He had learned six techniques from the Spirit Wind Art, studied dozens of herbs, and could identify Qi fluctuations with precision. His body was lean, his eyes sharp, and his aura steady.