The courtyard was quiet that evening, bathed in the soft glow of lantern light. The air carried the scent of burning pine from the chimney, the faint warmth of fire drifting across the stones. Alex sat cross-legged at the center, robes of pale cream pooling around him, his face calm but determined.
Before him lay the tools he had prepared:
Fire-aspected stones humming faintly with warmth.
Crushed seeds of embergrass, their fragrance sharp and fiery.
A bowl of boiled scarletleaf infusion, meant to steady the veins against mana burn.
Nine faintly glowing orbs—the pillars within his mind—responded to his breathing. They shimmered weakly at first, then steadied. His fingertips rested on the fire stones, and a flicker of light sparked in his veins.
"Foundation is nothing if I cannot climb beyond it," Alex murmured softly.
He inhaled. Mana flowed inward, carried by the fire in the chimney, by the heat of the stones, by the raw spark within himself. His nine pillars shuddered and began to pulse as one. The rhythm was unstable at first, like a heart trying to find its beat, but with every breath Alex forced them into alignment.
A dull ache crept through his arms, fire trailing his blood. Sweat rolled down his temples.
Then came the ignition.
In his dantian, where the nine pillars gathered, a small flame flickered to life. It was fragile, unsteady, yet alive. His vision blurred with heat, his bones thrummed as though hollow, his chest clenched under the weight of fire. For a heartbeat, the flame threatened to spiral out of control—too much fire, too much chaos.
He gritted his teeth. "Control it… don't let it control you."
Slowly, painfully, he circulated the energy, guiding it back into rhythm. The nine pillars glowed, stronger and brighter, channeling into the small flame until it steadied—red at its heart, gold at its edges. The chaos of fire had become a steady ember.
A rush of clarity flooded his body. The ache in his muscles eased, his veins no longer screamed. His breath came lighter, freer. The first true level of cultivation—Ignition Stage, Level One—was his.
Alex exhaled, long and slow. He opened his eyes, pupils reflecting a faint golden flame that flickered and then vanished. His entire body hummed with quiet strength.
"I've done it," he whispered, smiling faintly despite his exhaustion. "The first step… beyond foundation."
For a long moment, he simply sat there, letting the air cool his overheated skin. His hands trembled, not from weakness, but from the echo of fire still coursing through him. If he had faltered, his veins could have burned, his body ruined. But he had not faltered. He had won.
The quiet was broken by the sound of soft footsteps.
"Son?" a gentle, worried voice called.
It was Mrs. Cecilia Hans, a tray of tea in her hands. She froze as she saw him sitting there, face pale but eyes alight.
Alex smiled faintly. "Don't worry, I'm all right. Just… tired."
Her brows knitted with concern, but she said nothing. Instead, she set the tray down and poured him a cup with the steady hands of someone who had done so for years.
"Drink, son," she said softly, her voice firm yet full of care. "Your body has limits, no matter how strong your will may be."
Alex accepted the cup, sipping slowly. The warm tea steadied his breath further, the sweet bitterness grounding him back in the present.
As he set the cup aside, he looked up at the night sky beyond the courtyard walls. The stars shimmered faintly, and for a brief moment, Alex felt as though the world was opening its doors just a little wider.
One step at a time. One flame at a time.
The journey had only begun.
Author's Note
Ah, we were all thinking we'd see more of Riven and Alex's dynamic, and then—bam!—Alex jumps straight into cultivation beyond the foundation stage 🫣😚