For a long moment, I couldn't tell whether the pounding in my chest came from excitement or disbelief. Maybe it was both.
"A… a high-level cultivation technique?" I asked again, the words slipping out before I could steady my voice. I tried to sound composed, but the tremor betrayed me. "You'll really… give me one?"
Across the table, Elder Thryssa watched me with a knowing calm. A soft smile curved her lips—patient, almost indulgent, as if she had anticipated this reaction from the start. She nodded once, slowly.
"Yes."
I turned instinctively toward Charlie, searching his face. For the briefest moment, even his composure cracked, surprise flickering in his eyes before it vanished behind his usual calm. Seeing that only made the reality sink deeper. I swallowed hard and looked back at Thryssa.
"But… why?" I asked, the question rising from a place of genuine confusion. "A high-level cultivation technique isn't something people just hand over. They're rare and closely guarded. Even nobles wage wars over them."
Elder Thryssa's smile didn't falter. If anything, it deepened, touched with quiet amusement.
"You're right," she said evenly. "Which is why I am not giving it to you for free."
My shoulders tensed at once. Unease crept in, coiling tight in my chest. I didn't interrupt her and simply waited, unsure of what price she might name.
She folded her hands atop the table, her gaze steady, unblinking. "Do not think of this as charity," she continued. "Think of it as an investment."
An… investment?
"I told you before," she said calmly, her voice carrying a certainty that left no room for doubt.
"You are a blessing to this village, one who arrived here through fate itself. Whether you believe that or not is irrelevant but I do."
The words struck deeper than I expected.
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. Gratitude, confusion, disbelief... they tangled together until I couldn't find a single word strong enough to speak. My silence seemed answer enough.
Elder Thryssa studied me for another moment, then her expression shifted—still gentle, but firmer now.
"However," she said, "I do have one request."
I straightened without thinking, my body reacting before my mind could.
"When this village is in need," she continued, her voice low and steady, "I ask that you do not turn your back on it."
The room fell silent.
I lowered my gaze for a moment, my thoughts churning. I still didn't truly understand how I could ever be of real help to a village like this, one filled with seasoned warriors, wise elders, and a leader whose presence alone felt overwhelming.
Compared to them, I was still painfully small.
But even so…
I lifted my head again, feeling something settle firmly in my chest. Not certainty but resolve.
"I don't fully understand how I can be of help," I said honestly, meeting her gaze without flinching. "But if there comes a day when I am capable of helping this village… then I promise I'll do everything I can."
For a heartbeat, Elder Thryssa simply looked at me. Then her eyes softened, the tension easing from her expression.
She nodded once, slow and deliberate, clearly satisfied. Without another word, she reached beneath the table and drew out a neatly rolled leather sheet. It looked old, yet carefully preserved, its edges smooth from time and handling. Faint markings were etched across its surface, lines and symbols that seemed to catch the candlelight, pulsing ever so subtly as if alive.
She slid it across the table toward me.
"This," she said calmly, "is a high-level cultivation technique, second only to the leader's own. It is not an easy path."
Her gaze held mine.
"Take it."
I reached out and accepted the scroll with both hands, careful, almost reverent, as though it might crumble if I wasn't gentle enough. The weight of it felt far heavier than leather alone.
"Thank you," I said quietly, bowing my head as gratitude finally found its voice.
"You may open it," Elder Thryssa said gently.
I unrolled the leather with care, slowly inch by inch. The surface was covered in intricate diagrams—human figures seated in precise, unfamiliar postures, their bodies overlaid with fine lines that traced winding paths through limbs, spine, and core. Symbols and dense instructions surrounded each illustration, layered and complex, written in a script that felt both ancient and deliberate.
I leaned closer, studying it with growing intensity. The more I looked, the more I realized how far beyond my current understanding it was. Some parts made sense... basic flow, posture, breathing but others blurred together into something just out of reach.
My brow furrowed.
"Can you understand it?" Elder Thryssa asked, her voice calm but searching.
"…A little," I admitted after a moment. "But not everything."
"That is expected," she replied without hesitation.
Her expression shifted then, calm giving way to something firmer, more serious.
"Arthur," she said.
I looked up at once.
"This technique must not be shown or shared with anyone," she said, her tone leaving no room for misinterpretation. "Not even him."
Her gaze flicked briefly toward Charlie.
I hesitated, instinctively glancing back at him. Charlie's face was as unreadable as ever... no offense, no surprise and no protest. He simply stood there, silent, as if the matter didn't concern him at all.
I turned back to Elder Thryssa and nodded once.
"Alright."
The word felt heavier than it sounded.
"I know merely reading it won't be enough," Elder Thryssa continued, her voice calm and assured.
"This technique cannot be learned through words alone. So I will guide you through the first step."
She rose from her seat and moved to the side of the room, the candlelight casting long shadows across the wooden floor. Lowering herself smoothly, she sat down with her legs folded, posture straight and composed.
"Come," she said simply.
I stood and joined her, mirroring her position as best I could. I settled onto the floor with my back facing her, spine straight, legs crossed. At her silent prompting, I closed my eyes and drew in a slow breath, trying to calm the nervous energy twisting in my chest.
"Try to feel the natural energy around you," she said softly, her voice steady and guiding. "Do not search for it. Just be aware."
I focused. I reached outward with my senses—toward the quiet of the room, the faint warmth of the candles, the subtle presence of the forest beyond the walls.
Nothing.
Minutes seemed to pass. My brow tightened in frustration.
"I… I can't feel anything," I admitted at last, breaking the silence.
"That is normal," Elder Thryssa replied without a hint of disappointment. "Very few can sense it on their first attempt."
There was a brief pause behind me, and then her tone softened.
"So I will guide you," she said. "Pay attention. Remember how it feels. This memory will become your foundation."
A faint warmth pressed gently against my back as Thryssa's palm settled against my spine. It wasn't intrusive—more like a quiet presence making itself known. Then, slowly, something flowed into me.
It was calm, steady and subtle, yet impossible to mistake once it began.
The sensation traced its way upward along my spine, inch by deliberate inch, carrying a quiet pressure that made my breath hitch. When it reached the base of my neck, it split cleanly, flowing outward through my shoulders. I felt it travel down both arms, past muscle and bone, through my elbows and wrists, until it reached my fingertips.
The feeling was strange.
It wasn't painful or comforting, just something I didn't yet have words for.
It simply existed, threading through me with patient certainty, as if memorizing the paths it carved.
Time lost its meaning. I couldn't tell how long I sat there, suspended in that quiet flow. My thoughts blurred, awareness narrowing until there was only the movement within me and the steady rhythm of my breathing.
When the warmth finally receded and her hand lifted away, the absence felt sudden.
My body sagged slightly, heaviness settling into my limbs. Sweat clung to my skin, damp and cooling, my hair sticking to my forehead. I opened my eyes slowly, chest rising and falling as exhaustion washed over me, but unmistakably different from anything I had felt before.
Elder Thryssa rose to her feet, and a moment later I did the same, my legs still slightly unsteady as if my body hadn't fully caught up with what had just happened. The lingering sensation along my spine made me acutely aware of every movement.
Her gaze swept over me, lingering on the sweat coating my skin. Then, almost as an afterthought, she asked, "Why didn't the impurities get forced out of your body?"
I frowned slightly. "Impurities?"
Thryssa paused, studying my face for a brief moment. Then she shook her head once, as if dismissing the thought.
"…It's nothing," she said, setting the matter aside.
"This is only the first step," she said calmly. "You must practice it every day, slowly and patiently. Follow the technique as it is written." Her eyes held mine, steady and unwavering. "Only through that will you be able to form an energy core."
Then she paused.
The air seemed to tighten as her gaze sharpened, the warmth in her expression giving way to something far more serious. "But do not force it," she continued. "When your body resists, you stop immediately. Ignoring your limits will not make you stronger, it will only bring consequences."
I swallowed and nodded, the weight of her words settling deep in my chest. I bent forward in a deep bow, sincerity guiding the motion more than habit.
"I understand," I said earnestly. "Thank you, Elder. I will remember this for the rest of my life."
Thryssa inclined her head once in acknowledgment.
"Go and rest" she said simply.
With that, Charlie and I took our leave, stepping out into the quiet night.