After learning all of Silva's heaven-defying abilities, Fal had to modify his training regimen. Being able to cultivate while performing the kata meant Silva no longer needed to rest between sets of failure. Which quickly grew to be few and far between as Silva's muscles were continuously bathed and tempered by the flood of Qi rushing through his spiritual body.
By the end of the first week, Silva could perform the kata flawlessly, executing all fourteen movements with effortless precision. So Fal had no choice but to increase the difficulty, beginning with stone weights that he strapped onto Silva's limbs. But when that didn't prove to be enough of a challenge, Fal employed a method that he had theorized but never risked putting into practice.
"Hold!"
Silva froze, his palm extended out in a thrusting strike and his legs akimbo, resembling an L. Stepping forward with his cane in hand, Fal's grip tightened as a thin stream of Qi flowed from his palm and surrounded the wooden staff. There was no visible change to the length of the wood, but to Silva's spirit, the plain instrument was faintly glowing like a burned-out torch.
Projecting and manipulating one's Qi and outside of the body was an ability gained in the Second Realm of Ascension. Attacks infused with Qi not only struck the physical body but also the spiritual one, meaning that even if the physical blow was blocked, the hostile Qi would still invade the spirit, causing harm. Luckily, there was a paired defensive technique that, when employed, could negate the attack.
But Silva had no such technique, still firmly within the First Realm, meaning he was completely defenseless as Fal's empowered strike landed across his thigh.
Silva's eyes widened, and an involuntary grunt thudded in his chest as he felt a rippling wave of pain shoot through his spirit. Fal looked at his nephew, concerned ,but after a tense exhale, Silva nodded once, "Again."
Fal didn't hesitate to strike Silva once more, trusting his nephew would endure.
Now knowing what to expect, Silva was able to suppress his reaction, instead closing his eyes and focusing on his breath as Fal continued to rain blow after blow across his body.
When the call to continue echoed out from Fal, Silva kept his eyes closed as it took every ounce of concentration to keep his wailing spirit from spiraling out of control. Had Fal contained any true malicious intent, Silva was certain that a single serious blow would have been enough to scatter his spirit like dust on the wind.
Still Silva didn't dare ask for a reprieve, as the benefits of Fal's torturous training had already begun to reveal themselves. As the storm of Fal's blows had stirred inside Silva's spirit, calmed, he could sense a lingering essence. It was heavy and sluggish, drenching Silva's spiritual body in a thick mud that refused to slough off.
But as he turned his attention towards the invasive essence, Silva's spiritual roots responded, extending impossibly thin tendrils towards the pockets of foreign Qi. Silva then watched as those tendrils began to break down the essence and reabsorb it as if it were completely neutral in its nature.
And even after the foreign Qi was gone, the extensions remained and joined their predecessors, pulling in Qi through Silva's pores. It was a small addition, equivalent to adding a single grain of rice to a large bowl. However, there seemed to be no limit to how many grains Silva could add; thus, it was only a matter of time before the bowl overflowed
"Hold!"
Silva reflexively froze at the end of the movement, his eyes still closed and his spirit still raw from the shock of being attacked. Silva imagined that the next few blows would force him to abandon the kata, but only temporarily.
The experience of training, no matter how strenuous or pain-inducing, was a breath of fresh air that invigorated Silva's every thought. Fulfilling his newfound potential was his sole purpose, seeing the heights he could achieve after a lifetime of expecting the bare minimum.
'This is how I will express my gratitude,' Silva invoked a mantra in his mind, as he endured the second round of Fal's tempering, 'I will pursue the Heavens, for that is the dream that lives within my spirit. Just as a tree surely grows towards the sun, so will my steps lead me towards the upper realms.'
Even as Silva felt his body collapse as the anguish from his spirit echoed through his entire being, his focus did not waver, instead falling into a seated position and letting his spiritual roots propagate as they worked to purge the foreign Qi from his body.
Watching over Silva, Fal could sense that his nephew had entered a deep meditative state where the outside world ceased to exist and all conscious effort died down to a minimum. Silva's subconscious had taken over, ensuring his training would progress just as naturally as his breathing.
It was at that moment that Fal had reminded himself again that, despite his appearance, Silva in many ways was an elder, having reached the very end of his mortal lifespan. His mind and temperament had been toned by the mortal perspective of time. Comparatively, Fal was only middle-aged and could easily live for another millennium without issue.
'He possesses the wisdom of an elder but the enthusiasm of a young prodigy…what a terrifying combination.' Fal thought before looking towards the open door of the training room, "There's no need to linger about, you may enter."
After a brief second, Zhuli stepped around the corner, her hands folded in front as she bowed in Fal's direction, "This one greets Disciplinary Elder Fal."
"Hmm, no need for honorifics." Fal replied with a faint smile across his face as he looked between Zhuli and Silva, "My nephew told me about your contract…how is freedom treating you?"
Zhuli paused before a weary voice escaped her lips, "Even as a lowly servant, my existence had purpose; now there is none. He stripped that from me, without my consent, without my consideration. I dedicated my life to him, and now I am told to start anew, that all my efforts, all the little moments were in vain, and that I was a fool for centering my entire world around him. A world that I thought he wanted to share with me. But now that he has what he always wanted…he no longer needs me…I…am no longer enough."
For a long moment, Fal did not respond, letting Zhuli's words and emotions linger in the air between them before letting out a wistful sigh, "Believe it or not, I was in your position once. I forged my identity around an ideal, one I craved with every fiber of my being. Every action and thought was dedicated to an impossible achievement. In many ways, it is the reason why I find myself here today, and while I am content, I cannot help but wonder what my path would have been had I believed I was more deserving, that I need not to settle for content. That my passion was not limited to a single purpose…or person."
Fal paused for a moment before he turned to stare directly at Zhuli, "I believe that is what my dear nephew has realized. One does not need a purpose or goal for existing, simply being able to continue and experience is reason enough, and everything that occurs as a result is thus a great reward. Had he reciprocated your love, you would cease living, you would have reached the end of your path. But now you have been freed and given agency."
"But what do I do with it?" Zhuli asked, begging for an answer, an order she could act on.
Despite her disparaging voice Fal smiled, "Anything you wish my dear, the only wrong choice is not making one to begin with."