It had been three days since Jalen tossed Nate into the sub-realm for training—and it was nothing short of a nightmare. When he wasn't under constant threat from powerful spirit beasts, he was dodging rogue cultivators trying to rob or kill him. Nat hadn't slept or eaten, and while cultivators of his realm could go a couple of days without rest or food, stretching that into weeks would be dangerous.
Meanwhile, Nate stood before the entrance of a vault.
Earlier, while escaping a near-death encounter with a snake-type spirit beast, he had sensed a powerful energy calling out to him. That pull had led him here—to a ruin carved into the mountainside like a forgotten scar. Its stone doors were etched with swirling wind sigils, half-eroded by time and tempest. The air here didn't just move—it pulsed, like a living thing.
Nate stepped forward, boots crunching against loose gravel.
"This is it," he murmured.
The wind tugged at his tattered clothes, whispered in his ears, curled around his fingers like invisible threads. His wind physique and crystallized core were resonating—no, syncing—with the energy inside the vault.
Suddenly, the sigils flared to life. Bright teal lines raced across the stone like lightning veins. With a groan, the doors parted, revealing a dark corridor that breathed wind like a sleeping beast.
Nate stepped inside.
The Vault's interior was a maze of shifting currents and echoing silence. The walls were smooth, almost polished, and the air was thick with elemental qi—wind, sharp and wild, pressing against his skin like invisible blades.
He moved cautiously, activating Breath Like Dust and Dance Like the Wind. His feet barely touched the ground as he glided forward, each movement silent, each breath measured. The deeper he went, the stronger the pressure became. It wasn't just physical—it was mental. The Vault was probing him, testing his composure.
Then the wind changed.
A low growl echoed through the corridor. From the shadows emerged a beast—no flesh, no bone, just a swirling mass of razor-sharp currents shaped like a wolf, its eyes glowing with pale blue fire.
Nate froze.
The wind beast lunged.
He dodged instinctively, Dance Like the Wind flaring as he twisted mid-air, narrowly avoiding the slicing gust that tore through the stone behind him. The beast was fast—faster than anything he'd faced. It didn't move like a creature. It moved like a storm.
Nate landed, rolled, and summoned the third technique of the Spirit Wind Art: Gust Dance. A vortex of wind spun around him, deflecting the next strike—but barely. The beast's claws sliced through the shield like paper, forcing him to retreat.
He needed to adapt.
Drawing in a deep breath, Nate centered himself. He let go of panic, let go of fear. He focused on the flow—the rhythm of the Vault, the pulse of the beast, the dance of the wind.
The beast circled him, its form shifting, breaking apart and reforming like mist. Nate closed his eyes for a moment, listening.
Then he moved.
Dance Like the Wind became faster, smoother. He darted forward, feinted left, then spun right, catching the beast off guard. A wind blade materialized mid-spin—Tornado Slash, the fifth technique—deflecting the beast's claws and redirecting the force outward.
He followed up with the eighth technique: Spirit Rend. A compressed burst of wind qi focused at his fingertip. He tapped the beast's body lightly—and it was enough. A violent explosion of wind ripped the creature inside out, scattering its core—the swirling nexus of energy at its center.
The beast shrieked, its form unraveling into a chaotic storm. But it wasn't over.
The Vault retaliated. Winds surged violently, lifting Nate off the ground and slamming him into the wall. Pain lanced through his ribs. Not just from the Vault—but from the backlash of using a technique far beyond his realm.
The beast reformed, larger now, its body crackling with lightning.
Nate struggled to his feet, blood in his mouth. His clothes were shredded, his body bruised and battered. His qi was low. His body screamed. But his mind was clear.
He reached inward—deeper than ever before—into the core of his cultivation. He found the thread. That thin, fragile line of wind qi that had always been there, waiting. He grasped it, pulled, and let it flood through him.
His body glowed with teal light.
The beast charged.
Nate didn't move.
He let the wind guide him.
At the last moment, Nate twisted—flowing with the current, not against it. He became the wind: fluid, untouchable, unbound by form or fear.
This was the thirteenth technique of the Spirit Wind Art: Wind Fusion.
A technique Jalen had created after witnessing Rana's Flame Spirit Fusion during the Rouna tournament. But wind was no flame. It had no shape, no center. Binding it was like trying to hold a whisper. Yet Jalen had unraveled its theory—and Nate had dared to embody it.
Only those with a wind physique could.
Jalen had warned Nate though: "Only use it when there's no other option. It's too dangerous for someone at your level."
And this was that moment.
Nate didn't summon the technique. He surrendered to it.
His body dissolved into motion, his qi spiraled into a vortex of elemental resonance. He didn't strike—the wind struck through him. A spiral of pure wind qi erupted from his palm, piercing the beast's core with surgical precision.
Silence followed.
The beast unraveled. The Vault stilled.
And Nate collapsed, the price of fusion etched into every trembling breath.
That's when it appeared—a treasure orb made of wind. It hovered briefly, then plunged into Nate's chest, entering his dantian. The boy squirmed and grunted in agony as the orb fused with his crystallized core, transforming it into a complete spirit core.
Nate had become an anomaly—someone who formed a complete spirit core before reaching Gold Realm. Unheard of.
But the orb did more. It realigned his insides, strengthened his broken meridians, and elevated his realm to Peak Amethyst. If his body had been stronger, it would've pushed him close to Diamond Realm—but that much power would've killed him.
So the orb suppressed its energy, waiting for the boy to grow stronger.