CHAPTER 10: THE STONE OF RESOLVE
Kai emerged from the Heartstone Cavern a different person. The air itself felt lighter, as if the world had recalibrated to his new, steadier frequency. The old man stood waiting, a rare, genuine smile touching his lips.
"You survived. More than that, you listened. That means you are ready for the final test of the first stage."
"A test?" Kai asked, his voice calm, the previous desperation gone. "I thought facing my own soul was the test."
"That was the prerequisite," the old man corrected. He led Kai behind the thundering curtain of the waterfall to a secluded grotto. There, embedded in the living rock of the cliff face, was a single, smooth, dark stone, about the size of Kai's torso. It was unremarkable except for its perfect, unyielding appearance. "This is the Stone of Resolve. Your task is simple: shatter it."
Kai studied the stone, then his own fists. "With a Spirit Fist?"
"With whatever means your spirit provides," the old man replied. "You have until sunset tomorrow. If you fail, your training ends. Permanently."
The ultimatum hung in the air, stark and real. Kai simply nodded. "Then I won't fail."
He began immediately. "Spirit Fist!" he yelled, channeling energy into his fist and striking the stone. The impact was loud, reverberating through the grotto, but when the light faded, the stone was unmarked. Not a scratch.
He tried again. And again. He varied his angle, his stance, the intensity of his shout. The result was always the same. The stone was an immutable fact, and his attacks were like water against a mountain.
Hours bled into one another. The sun climbed, peaked, and began its descent. Kai's knuckles were raw and swollen, his body aching from the constant, jarring impacts. The spiritual energy he was channeling protected his bones from shattering, but it did nothing to ease the mounting frustration or the deep, soul-crushing fatigue.
He collapsed to his knees, chest heaving, staring at the impervious rock. "It's not working," he gasped. "I'm just… hitting it."
The old man, who had been observing from the shadows of the grotto, finally spoke. "That is because you are still treating your spirit energy as a tool for your body to wield. You are pouring water from a cup. You are not becoming the river."
Exhausted and desperate, Kai shot back, "Then what am I supposed to do?!"
"Remember the cave," the old man said, his voice low and intent. "Remember the Spirit Blade that formed to save your life against the hunter. Did you command it to appear? Or did you simply get out of its way and allow it to exist?"
The memory flashed in Kai's mind: the blinding light, the sword of pure energy materializing in his grasp without conscious thought. He had been an empty vessel, and the power had filled him.
He closed his eyes, forcing his breathing to slow. He stopped trying to gather energy. Instead, he focused on the feeling of the cave, the moment he had accepted his fear. He let his awareness sink inward, past the pain, past the frustration, to the quiet, humming core of his being.
He stopped telling the energy what to do and instead asked it to act.
A profound silence fell over him. The roar of the waterfall faded into nothingness.
When he opened his eyes, they blazed with a pure, incandescent white light.
The old man recoiled a half-step, his eyes widening. "By the ancients…"
Kai didn't shout. His voice was a calm, resonant whisper that cut through the thunder of the falls. "Spirit Fist."
He didn't punch the stone. He simply extended his fist, and the world unmade itself around it.
There was no loud impact. There was a deep, concussive THUMP that was felt more than heard, a sensation of reality itself flinching. A web of brilliant white light spiderwebbed across the stone's surface. For a suspended moment, it held its form. Then, it dissolved into a fine, glittering dust that was caught by the mist and carried away into nothingness.
Kai stared at the empty space where the stone had been, his hand still outstretched. The white glow in his eyes faded, leaving behind a profound exhaustion and a dawning, awe-struck understanding.
The old man's laughter was a sound of pure, unadulterated triumph. "You didn't just break it, boy! You erased its existence from the pattern! You have not merely passed the first stage… you have redefined it."
Kai looked at his hands, the power still tingling in his veins. "It didn't feel like I did anything. It felt like… I got out of the way."
"Precisely," the old man said, his voice filled with reverence. "That is the essence of Command. Now, you are truly ready to walk this path."
Somewhere in the Nexan Wastelands…
The scorching wind whipped across the desert, carrying whispers of forgotten wars. Morde trudged through the sand, a lone figure in an ocean of dust and heat. Suddenly, he stopped. Every instinct screamed.
A dark silhouette cut through the heat haze, moving with impossible speed.
In the blink of an eye, it was before him. A fist, wreathed in glowing, ember-like energy, shot forward.
BAM!
The blow connected with Morde's chest, lifting him off his feet and sending him skidding backward, his boots carving deep trenches in the sand. He coughed, a spatter of blood staining the ground. He looked up, a dangerous smirk twisting his features. "Who the hell are you?"
The figure stepped forward, its eyes burning with crimson light. "I am Neros. You will remember that name… as the last thing you hear."
Morde cracked his neck, shadowy energy beginning to coil around his arms like serpents. "Big talk. Let's see you back it up."
Their auras collided—a chilling, devouring shadow against a smoldering, oppressive ash.
Chains of solidified gray ash erupted from Neros's sleeves, whistling through the air with deadly intent. Morde lunged forward to meet them. "Shadow Fist!"
But as his darkened fist connected, the ash chains shifted, becoming intangible. They passed through his attack like smoke and rematerialized, their sharpened tips stabbing deep into his shoulder.
"Argh!" Morde gritted his teeth as a burning, draining sensation spread from the wounds. It felt like his very energy was being siphoned away.
Neros's voice was as cold and dry as the desert wind. "Let this be your first lesson, child of shadow. Against true ash… all darkness eventually burns."
The howling wind swallowed Morde's growl of pain and fury. His trial in the wasteland had just begun.