The morning sun had barely crested the horizon when Axel began his daily training routine. Five weeks in this cultivation world, and the transformation was remarkable. His body, once frail and malnourished, now moved with a grace and power that would have been impossible in his previous life on Earth.
The Qi circulated automatically through his awakened meridians, a constant flow of energy that enhanced every aspect of his physical being. But Axel had come to realize that passive enhancement wasn't enough. In a world where death could come from any direction without warning, he needed to be able to use his power actively, decisively, in the split seconds that separated survival from annihilation.
He'd been practicing for days now, trying to replicate and refine the crude techniques he'd used against the spirit boar. The key, he'd discovered, was intent. Qi responded to willpower, to focused intention combined with proper circulation patterns. It wasn't enough to simply push energy into a limb—you had to shape that energy, direct it with purpose, give it a specific task to accomplish.
Striking with Qi was fundamentally different from striking with pure physical force. A normal punch relied on body mechanics—weight transfer, hip rotation, proper alignment of joints and muscles. A Qi-enhanced strike added another dimension entirely, one that operated on spiritual rather than purely physical principles.
Axel stood before a thick tree trunk, its bark scarred from previous practice sessions. He centered himself, feeling the flow of Qi through his meridians, then began the process he'd been refining over days of trial and error.
First, gather the Qi. He drew energy from his dantian, pulling it up through his core meridian and splitting it between both arms. The sensation was like filling a vessel with water, except the vessel was his spiritual pathways and the water was pure concentrated energy.
Second, compress the Qi. This was the crucial step, the difference between a weak technique and a devastating one. Axel visualized the energy in his right fist condensing, becoming denser and more concentrated, until it felt like he was holding a small sun in his palm.
Third, release with intent. Not just throwing the energy forward, but directing it with specific purpose—penetration, impact, disruption of the target's internal structure.
Axel's fist shot forward, striking the tree trunk with a sound like thunder.
The bark exploded. Wood splintered. A fist-sized crater appeared where his knuckles had connected, and cracks radiated outward in a spiderweb pattern that extended nearly a foot in every direction.
Axel stared at the damage, his heart pounding with equal parts excitement and disbelief. That single strike had contained more destructive power than anything he could have achieved through purely physical means. The Qi had penetrated deep into the wood, disrupting its internal structure in ways that normal force never could.
This was what cultivation meant. This was the power that separated cultivators from mortals, that allowed humans to challenge beasts ten times their size, that made the impossible merely difficult.
But the technique had also depleted a significant portion of his Qi reserves. Axel could feel the drain in his dantian, the temporary weakness in his meridians from channeling so much energy at once. Power came with a cost, and managing that cost would be crucial in actual combat.
He spent the rest of the morning practicing, refining the technique through repetition. Each strike taught him something new—how to reduce wasted energy, how to improve compression, how to maximize penetration while minimizing Qi expenditure. By noon, he could execute the technique with roughly sixty percent of the energy cost, though the power output remained similar.
The efficiency gains were significant. In a real fight, every bit of conserved energy could mean the difference between having enough power for one more strike or being left defenseless.
As Axel paused to catch his breath and replenish his Qi through meditation, he reflected on how far he'd come. Five weeks ago, he'd been a confused transplant from Earth, barely able to sense Qi, terrified of every sound in the forest. Now he could shatter wood with his bare hands, circulate energy through multiple meridians simultaneously, and maintain basic cultivation techniques while performing other tasks.
The progress was intoxicating. But it also revealed just how far he still had to go.
According to the fragmentary memories from this body's original owner, most sect disciples reached this level—Stage 2 Peak of Meridian Awakening—within a few months of proper training with adequate resources. Axel had done it in five weeks through self-study and desperate experimentation, which suggested either exceptional talent or exceptional desperation. Probably both.
But those sect disciples also had access to proper techniques, spirit pills, protective formations, and experienced teachers. They didn't have to worry about dying of starvation or being eaten by spirit beasts. Their cultivation environments were optimized for growth, while Axel was making do with whatever the forest provided.
The realization brought his earlier decision into sharper focus. He needed to find civilization soon. His self-taught methods had brought him this far, but they were approaching their limits. Without proper guidance, without access to real cultivation techniques beyond the basics in his inherited manual, his progress would slow and eventually stop entirely.
Worse, he might develop bad habits or flawed techniques that would cripple his future advancement. Cultivation was like building a skyscraper—errors in the foundation became catastrophic problems dozens of floors up.
Axel returned to his practice with renewed intensity. He had perhaps another week before he absolutely needed to seek out a town or sect. That meant he needed to push himself as hard as possible, to reach the absolute peak of his current stage and maybe even touch the threshold of the next.
Stage 3 Qi Gathering—the realm where cultivators learned to actively draw in Qi from their environment rather than just passively accumulating it during meditation. The difference was subtle but significant. Passive accumulation was slow, steady, safe. Active gathering was faster, more efficient, but also more dangerous if done incorrectly.
The technique required a cultivator to extend their spiritual senses outward, creating a kind of vortex that pulled ambient Qi toward their body. Done correctly, it could increase cultivation speed by several times. Done incorrectly, it could damage meridians, destabilize the dantian, or even attract the attention of stronger cultivators and Qi beasts who could sense the energy fluctuations.
Axel had been attempting the technique for days now, with limited success. He could create the vortex—barely—but maintaining it required intense concentration that made it impossible to do anything else simultaneously. And the amount of additional Qi he gained was marginal at best, hardly worth the effort and risk.
But today, with the breakthrough in his striking technique fresh in his mind, Axel approached the problem differently. Maybe he was thinking about it wrong. Maybe active gathering wasn't about pulling energy toward you through sheer force of will, but about creating the right conditions for energy to flow naturally in your direction.
Like water flowing downhill. You didn't pull the water—you created a slope and let gravity do the work.
Axel settled into meditation and extended his spiritual senses outward, but this time instead of trying to grab the ambient Qi, he simply... opened himself to it. He visualized his dantian not as a closed container but as a low-pressure zone, a space that naturally attracted energy from higher-pressure areas around him.
The effect was immediate and dramatic.
Qi began flowing toward him from all directions, drawn by the differential he'd created. It wasn't a violent rush—more like a steady tide, constant and powerful. The energy entered through his meridians, flowed through established pathways, and settled into his dantian with smooth efficiency.
Axel's eyes snapped open in surprise, but he forced them closed again, afraid of disrupting the process. This was it. This was active Qi gathering. Not forcing or pulling, but creating the conditions for natural flow.
He maintained the technique for as long as he could, which turned out to be about twenty minutes before mental exhaustion forced him to stop. But in those twenty minutes, he'd accumulated more Qi than he typically would in two hours of passive meditation.
The efficiency gain was staggering.
Axel opened his eyes and immediately checked his surroundings, nervous that the energy fluctuations might have attracted attention. The forest seemed normal—birds singing, insects buzzing, the usual sounds of wilderness. Nothing obviously threatening.
But he'd need to be more careful going forward. Active gathering created detectable ripples in the ambient Qi that any nearby cultivator or sensitive beast would notice. It was a trade-off between faster growth and increased risk of discovery.
Still, the breakthrough was significant. Axel could feel it in his core—he was approaching the threshold of Stage 3 Early Qi Gathering. Another few days of intensive practice, maybe a week at most, and he would cross into the next realm entirely.
The thought brought a fierce grin to his face. Seven weeks ago, he'd been a corporate drone on Earth, worried about spreadsheets and office politics. Now he was punching craters into trees and manipulating cosmic energy. The transformation was surreal, but he was adapting faster than he'd ever thought possible.
As afternoon shadows lengthened across the forest, Axel continued his training regimen. Strike practice until his Qi ran low, meditation to replenish reserves, active gathering to accelerate recovery, then strike practice again. Each cycle strengthened his techniques, deepened his understanding, brought him incrementally closer to the next breakthrough.
The sun was setting when he felt it—a presence in the forest that didn't belong. Not a beast this time. The Qi signature was too controlled, too refined. Another cultivator.
Axel's hand went instinctively to his makeshift staff as he scanned the darkening treeline. His newly refined spiritual senses detected the presence more clearly now—roughly his own level of cultivation, maybe slightly higher. Stage 3 Early or Mid, if he was reading the signature correctly.
The figure emerged from the shadows slowly, hands raised in a gesture of peace. A young man, perhaps twenty years old, wearing the tattered remains of sect robes. His face was gaunt, marked by recent hardship, but his eyes were sharp and calculating.
"Easy, friend," the stranger said, his voice carefully neutral. "I mean no harm. I sensed your cultivation just now—that Qi gathering technique was... impressive. Self-taught?"
Axel didn't lower his staff. "What do you want?"
The stranger smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Direct. I respect that. My name is Wei Chen, formerly of the Flowing River Sect. I'm..." He paused, seeming to choose his words carefully. "Let's say I'm between affiliations at the moment. And you are?"
"Cautious," Axel replied. "What do you want?" he repeated.
Wei Chen's smile faded slightly. "Information, mostly. This forest is getting dangerous—more rogue cultivators every day, fleeing from sect purges or hunting for spirit herbs. You're clearly talented, probably more so than you realize. But you're also alone and unaffiliated, which makes you vulnerable."
"And you're offering what, exactly? Protection?" Axel's tone made clear what he thought of that idea.
"Information," Wei Chen corrected. "I've been in these woods for three months. I know which areas are safe, where the strongest beasts hunt, where other cultivators tend to gather. I know which herbs are valuable and which will kill you if you're careless. That knowledge has value, wouldn't you agree?"
"And what do you want in return?"
Wei Chen's expression became more serious. "Honestly? Company. This forest is lonely, and it's dangerous to cultivate alone. Two cultivators watching each other's backs have better survival odds than two individuals operating separately. Simple mathematics."
The logic was sound, but Axel's Earth-trained cynicism was screaming warnings. People didn't offer help without expecting something in return. And in a world where power was everything, where cultivators killed each other over minor slights or valuable resources, trusting a stranger could be fatal.
But Wei Chen had approached peacefully. He'd had the element of surprise and could have attacked while Axel was deep in cultivation. The fact that he'd revealed himself and opened with conversation suggested either genuine peaceful intent or a very elaborate trap.
"I'll think about it," Axel said finally. "But I'm not making any commitments right now."
Wei Chen nodded, seeming unsurprised by the response. "Fair enough. I'll be camped about two li north of here, near the triple-fork stream. If you change your mind, or if you just want to trade information, you know where to find me."
He turned to leave, then paused and looked back. "One piece of free advice, since you seem new to cultivation—that Qi Strike technique you were practicing? It's good, solid fundamentals. But you're telegraphing the energy buildup too obviously. Any experienced fighter will see it coming from a mile away. Work on concealing the Qi compression until the moment of release. Makes it much harder to dodge."
With that, Wei Chen disappeared back into the forest, moving with the practiced silence of someone who'd spent months hiding and surviving in dangerous territory.
Axel stood alone in the gathering darkness, his mind working through the encounter. Wei Chen's advice about the Qi Strike was accurate—Axel had noticed the same problem himself. The fact that the stranger had offered genuine tactical advice without asking for anything in return was... interesting.
It could still be a trap. An elaborate way to gain trust before striking. But it could also be exactly what Wei Chen claimed—a lonely cultivator looking for mutually beneficial cooperation in a dangerous environment.
Axel didn't make decisions that night. He simply noted the location Wei Chen had mentioned, filed away the advice about concealing Qi compression, and returned to his cultivation with renewed caution.
But the encounter had reinforced something important: he was approaching the limits of what solo cultivation could teach him. Other people—whether as allies, rivals, or teachers—were becoming necessary for continued growth.
The question was whether the risks of human interaction outweighed the costs of isolation.
As stars began appearing in the darkening sky, Axel closed his eyes and sank into meditation. The Qi flowed through his meridians in smooth, practiced patterns. His dantian pulsed with accumulated power. And somewhere at the edge of his awareness, the threshold of Stage 3 Qi Gathering waited, tantalizingly close.
Another week, he told himself. Give it another week of intensive solo training. Then make decisions about civilization, about sects, about whether to trust strangers like Wei Chen.
One week to push himself to the absolute limit of what he could achieve alone.
Then the real journey would begin