A week later
Steam coiled above the pond in quiet spirals. Moonlight filtered through the canopy, shimmering off the water's surface where two cultivators sat shoulder-deep—one still, unreadable, the other fidgeting just enough to disturb the silence.
Lloyd exhaled slowly. "So… you always act like this?"
Jalen blinked. "Like what?"
"Like a robot dipped in arrogance."
"No. Just not good at small talk."
Lloyd chuckled, then let silence stretch between them again. He tried to steer the conversation three times—to past battles, favorite foods, even jokes. Jalen said nothing useful.
Then Jalen spoke.
"Why are you after vengeance?"
Lloyd froze mid-laugh. His fingers dipped below the water. "That's..."
"If you don't want to say, then don't."
Lloyd glanced down at his reflection. "A man from the Sabre Sect. A Spirit Fusion Realm. Like you."
"You truly have a death wish."
"I know it sounds insane. But I need to avenge my parents. I can't move on without confronting that man."
Jalen nodded once. No pity. No judgment. Just gravity.
"Do what you must."
Lloyd cleared his throat. "What about you? What sect are you from? Why are you so strong? Surely someone like you would be famous across the cultivation world."
Jalen tilted his head slightly. "You're persistent, aren't you?"
"I have questions."
"Tell you what. Earn my trust, and I might answer one."
"I already agreed to serve you. Isn't that enough?"
Jalen's expression didn't change. "Do you think I need a servant?"
Lloyd muttered, "You're strong. Of course you don't. I know you're doing this for my sake."
Jalen turned his gaze toward the moonlight. "Is that how it seems?"
"Is it not?"
"You're truly naive."
A beat passed. Then Jalen asked, "By the way… did you finally grasp the first technique?"
Lloyd's grin lit up the pond. "Yeah. I got it."
"Good. Tomorrow, we begin the second technique."
"Sure. Master."
Jalen rose from the water without a ripple. His skin dried mid-step, and in a blink, his robes shimmered across his form—restitched with qi threads. Before Lloyd could stand, Jalen was already walking away.
"No more calling me 'master,'" he said over his shoulder.
"Fine," Lloyd whispered, grinning. "But you do kind of act like one."
Jalen disappeared into the temple's shadows to resume his study—the fifth technique waited.
He had already mastered Radiant Pulse Weave—the foundational stance that balanced his light qi during strikes, letting each movement adapt mid-flow. It anchored his rhythm and prevented rupture mid-motion, making his combat flow fluid, reactive, and relentless.
Threading Loop Resonance followed, coiling his light qi into layered spirals—amplifying impact, sustaining rhythm, and delivering precision force mid-strike. In battle, it allowed him to charge each movement with condensed energy, compressing force without destabilization. His strikes no longer flared; they detonated with control.
The third, Luminous Veil Step, folded into his muscle memory like a shadow of light. By channeling movement through ambient illumination, he could phase-step without terrain resistance—appearing where beams touched, vanishing where darkness held. When mastered, it left shimmering echoes behind, tricking both vision and spiritual detection.
This was even a faster movement technique than his Spirit Wind Art second technique—Dance Like the Wind.
The fourth technique, Refraction Field Bloom, hovered silently around his primary core. A reactive aura that twisted hostile energy into spiraling collapse, it didn't block—it fractured. Weaker attacks bent around him, their force diffused and redirected harmlessly. Stronger ones were absorbed into the bloom's layered light qi threads, broken down and restructured.
Then came the retaliation.
The fractured energy was refined into pure light qi and launched back at the attacker—amplified to twice its original force and velocity. Not a mirror, but a magnifier. The more power thrown at Lloyd, the more devastating the counterstrike became.
In open field combat, this made him a nightmare to engage. Every attack risked becoming a radiant backlash. Every trap, a trigger for his bloom to erupt.
Refraction Field Bloom didn't just protect. It punished recklessness. It turned aggression into vulnerability.
But the fifth… Raystorm Volley.
It didn't whisper. It roared. This form unleashed hundreds of spear-like rays of light qi in a wide-range barrage—each one sharp enough to pierce armor, fast enough to overwhelm evasive techniques. It was a battlefield technique, designed not for elegance but for dominance. When Jalen summoned it, the sky itself seemed to fracture into radiant shards, raining destruction across the horizon.
__
Morning light crept through temple slats in silver ribbons, casting soft geometric shadows across the stone courtyard. Dew clung to spirit moss. Mist curled along the edges of the pond like breath holding still.
Lloyd stood barefoot, hands raised in meditation stance, breathing slow and controlled. His light qi pulsed gently now—not wild or flaring, but flowing in threads. Balanced, nearly steady.
Jalen stood beside him, arms folded, watching.
"You've learned to summon it. Good," Jalen said. "But calling energy is useless if it breaks apart once pressure shifts."
Lloyd nodded. "That's why you mentioned combat rhythm before, right?"
"That was the first form," Jalen said. "What I'm about to show you… is the second. Threading Loop Resonance."
He stepped forward, and with a motion that seemed more breath than muscle, light qi spiraled around his arm in coiling patterns—circular, interwoven, pulsing like a heartbeat caught in motion.
"It's not just about controlling the flow," Jalen continued. "It's about weaving it. The threads must bend with intent. If they fracture, your internal alignment ruptures."
Lloyd squinted. "So it's not strength. It's timing and shape?"
Jalen nodded. "Exactly. This form allows you to carry your light essence in loops through your body—so when struck, you don't lose cohesion. It can buffer impact, redirect energy, and maintain clarity."
He extended both arms, let his qi swirl around him in a double helix, and paused.
"Show me your weave."
Lloyd tried.
His threads responded—sluggish, uneven. They didn't spiral. They squirmed. But they moved.
Jalen didn't correct him. Not yet.
He walked a slow circle around Lloyd, then said, "Do it again. But this time… think of it like fishing lines in a current. Let your breath guide the loops—not your muscles."
Lloyd inhaled.
And tried again.
This time, the qi moved more fluidly—still imperfect, but curved. One loop formed clearly before unraveling. He'd failed loops forty-seven times that morning. Now, one had almost held. It wasn't power. It was patience.
Jalen smiled faintly. "That's the start. It gets harder from here."
Lloyd groaned. "Of course it does."
The temple breathed with them. Light shimmered against the pond. And beyond the walls, something quiet in the forest began to take notice.