The forest canopy above Jian's courtyard swayed in a slow rhythm, each gust of wind carrying with it a faint trace of spiritual energy. At eleven years old, Jian no longer resembled the small, sharp-eyed boy who had first been dragged into the sect. His features had sharpened with a cold maturity, and his frame had lengthened into the early shape of adulthood despite his youth. Cultivation had worked its distortions on him—bones strengthened, muscles refined, meridians widened. Even his gaze seemed older than he had any right to possess.
For the past year, Jian had fallen into a strict pattern: wake before the sun, meditate through dawn, cultivate until his meridians burned, train his body until sweat soaked the earth, then practice his techniques until their forms carved themselves into instinct. Day after day, his strength layered upon itself like sedimentary stone. And yet, there was never satisfaction—only the persistent pressure of the system that pulsed in the back of his consciousness.
Today, however, the system had remained silent. No missions. No sudden windows of text. Just the low hum of energy cycling through him.
Jian sat cross-legged, his breathing slow, spiritual energy circulating in calm spirals. He could feel the widening of his foundation after stepping into the 6th Realm: Core Formation weeks earlier. Each realm made the world a fraction clearer, the air a fraction denser, his own heartbeat a fraction louder. And each step made him feel more like he was racing toward a finish line no one else could see.
But the silence… that was rare.
Just as the thought crossed his mind, the system chimed.
[Daily Task Complete. Reward Pending.]
Jian opened his eyes and exhaled quietly. "Here we go again," he murmured.
But even as he braced himself for whatever was coming next, a faint feeling stirred in his chest—anticipation, perhaps. Or the faint realization that the true ascent hadn't even begun.