Sensing his uncle's tone, Silva knew that something was amiss, and he quickly rose to his feet and pulled a spare robe from his ring to get dressed. "How long has it been?"
"A week," Fal stated with a grunt, "Had I known you would need so much time, I would have planned this differently."
"I'm sorry, uncle, I only realized my oversight in the middle of my ascension." Silva was quick to apologize but paused when he tried to put on his robe, only to find it was several sizes too small and would barely close over his chest.
It was only after that discovery that Silva realized he had grown in height and muscle mass, making him a figurative giant. And as was now customary, Silva's hair had grown as well, locking around the braid that he had put it in.
"There will be time to address it later. For now, make sure you're at least decent. After all, we have guests to see."
"Guests?" Silva repeated as he reached up, tore off the sleeves of his robe, leaving his arms bare, and pulled out a cord of rope, which he wrapped around his waist after passing through the loops of his robe.
"The other elders and I imagine at least two of your brothers," Fal explained, "They arrived a few days ago."
Silva frowned as he made some final adjustments to his attire. "Then why haven't they entered?"
Fal grinned, "Because your father made it clear years ago what would happen to anyone who entered these grounds without his permission. They're hoping to catch us as we leave and most likely accuse us of insubordination or desertion, well, me more specifically."
"Do we need to be worried?" Silva asked as he moved to stand next to Fal, who shook his head, his grin confident, "Not in the slightest, they won't even question my absence once they realize why I've been so preoccupied."
This time around, Silva didn't ask any questions; he would entrust all the plotting and politics to Fal at least for the meantime. "Then let's go greet our guests. I'm eager to finally leave these walls behind."
---
Those gathered outside the manor looked up as the front gates swung open, revealing Fal and Silva standing side by side.
"What is the meaning of this?" Dantu muttered as he stared wide-eyed at Silva.
While none of the other elders vocalized their reaction, they were both taken aback, with Jolto frowning and Ryula narrowing her eyes.
"Elders, it is an honor to see you " Silva said as he stepped forward and bowed with his two fists pressed together at his waist.
"How is this possible?!"
A new voice spoke up in an accusing tone.
Silva glanced over as the speaker stepped out from behind Dantu, "You must be my younger brother, Vranga. I'm glad that we've finally met at long last."
Vranga's face contorted into a sneer, "You're not my brother, you're nothing more than the mortal son of a whore that somehow seduced her way into father's favor."
Dantu flinched and seemed about ready to chastise Vranga when he was interrupted by another, "You're always the first to bark, Vranga, if only you had the bite to back it up."
Recognizing the voice, Silva looked over and stared at his second-oldest brother, Tenga, who stood next to Ryula with a gold-and-red fan held between his fingers. "It's good to see you in such excellent health, Silva. A mortal no longer, how curious."
Silva nodded and smiled before looking once more and confirming that their eldest sibling wasn't present, "Where is Raga? Could he not make it?"
"Your brother is busy preparing for the war, as we all should be," Jolto spoke, causing everyone else to fall silent, "I came here to ensure nothing got out of hand, however I could have never predicted that you would keep something this significant a secret."
Jolto turned, addressing Fal with a deep frown, "Just how long were you planning to hide this from the family?"
Fal grinned despite the serious situation, "Ideally, until the Patriarch emerged from his seclusion, but you know how impatient the youth are. I managed to negotiate a deal that Silva could enter the clan once he reached the Realm of Spirit Manifestation. Though of course I never would have anticipated that he'd only need four years to manage it. But such is the will of the heavens."
Fal's words sent a ripple through those gathered as looks of suspicion and disbelief flashed across their faces.
"Don't be ridiculous," Vranga snapped, "The body tempering stage takes at least a decade to build solid foundations; anything less is inconceivable."
"Hmm, Vranga is right," Jolto agreed, though he looked visibly disturbed having to admit it, "If you thought that such a flimsy excuse would make us overlook your behavior, I'm afraid you're sorely mistaken, Fal."
"Not an excuse, a reason," Fal countered confidently, "What kind of Sensei would I be if I left my disciple's side at such a crucial stage?"
Jolto's jaw clenched, and a dangerous air started pouring off his body. "Fal, do not insist on this foolish path. Explain yourself, or I will have no other choice but to consider your actions suspicious and be forced to treat you as such."
Fal glanced at Silva with a look that seemed to say I told you so. "I'm afraid that nothing I say will suffice to put your suspicions at ease."
"Is that an admission of guilt?" Jolto asked, his eyes narrowing.
Fal smirked, "Of course not, I said there's nothing I can say, but after all, actions speak louder than words."
As Fal finished speaking, he glanced at Silva, who suddenly found himself on the spot, forced to guess what his uncle wanted from him. Hoping he wasn't making a horrible mistake, Silva flexed his spirit, which he could now control just like any other part of his body. However, the change was much more noticeable than sharpening his muscle definition.
A wave of force exploded off of Silva as his spiritual presence flared into existence, causing the ground around him to crack and fracture like a great weight had suddenly come crashing down.
Despite being hit with the brunt of it, Fal simply laughed as he watched the dumbfounded looks flash across his fellow elder's faces, "I assume that this is proof enough?"
After a second, Jolto let out a grunt, "You can stop now, Young Master Silva, you've both made your point."
Silva nodded once, and his spiritual presence vanished, though a lingering imprint remained in its wake. "I'm glad that we've all reached a collective understanding."
"Speak for yourself." Vranga hissed as he glared at Silva.
"Vranga!" Dantu snapped, but Silva's brother paid the elder no heed as he pointed a finger at Silva, "I was told that you were born a cripple! A worthless mortal who nearly killed himself trying to cultivate, locked away so that the family wouldn't have to bear the shame of your existence. Now, you emerge over a hundred years later, a cultivator with your vitality restored and seemingly no ill effects."
"Do you have a question, brother?" Silva asked in a neutral tone, even in the face of Vranga's hostility.
"I question everything about what you've led us to believe," Vranga spat, "Why make an appearance now when so much is in turmoil? Is it a mere coincidence or is there a motive?"
Vranga's question went uncontested by the others; after all, they had been wondering the exact same things themselves.
Feeling the tension in the air, Silva couldn't help but smile, "Perhaps this is foolish of me to say, but I don't believe in coincidences. Everything happens for a reason."
"Then what is your reason for making an appearance?" Vranga interrogated with a scathing tone.
"Because I couldn't stand the thought of being stuck inside these miserable walls for a moment longer than necessary," Silva replied as he held out his hands, "I lived for over one hundred years and never once did I see what lies beyond the same four walls. It's only natural that I be curious and eager to experience what the world has to offer."
Vranga smiled, but the expression didn't reach his eyes, "Even if that world is filled with nothing but death and destruction?"
"If you're referencing the upcoming war, I can assure you I am more than prepared to fulfill my duties," Silva replied smoothly.
Vranga's smile melted off his face, "Duties? What role do you think a bastard like you will occupy on the battlefield?"
"I was told I would be placed in charge of a squadron," Silva answered matter-of-factly.
"As if the family wou-"
"You," Jolto suddenly interrupted, fixing Vranga with a glare, "Do not speak for the family. Silva will be awarded the rank of Captain once the Imperial Troops arrive, as is his birthright."
Vranga looked like he had been physically slapped, but he didn't dare challenge Jolto directly. "Very well, however, I'm afraid I must insist on one thing."
Vranga's spirit flared, shattering the ground around him and kicking up a strong gust of wind, "You need to know where you stand; otherwise, you'll just become a liability to yourself and the ones placed under your command."
Silva frowned, "I don't want our first encounter to involve violence."
"Violence is unavoidable on the path to the heavens; you should know that if you have the Bloodflame Fiend as your teacher, or are you just that poor of a student?" Vranga, insulted, as his spirit soared, fueled by his battle lust.
"An excellent point, Young Master Vranga."
Everyone, including Silva, turned to stare at Fal, who had spoken up, "Feel free to teach your brother his place."
"But, you haven't taught me-" Silva turned to question Fal, but the moment he did, Vranga pounced, throwing himself at Silva with such force that he completely shattered the ground.
Despite the speed of Vranga's opening blitz, Silva wasn't taken by surprise. After four years of dealing with Fal's antics, he had learned to never fully lower his guard. The moment Vranga moved, Silva had spun back around, holding his staff in one hand. But even having reacted within a split second, Silva still wasn't confident about the impending clash.
Silva stared at Vranga's fist, still held down by his waist, but drenched in the qi steadily flowing out of the meridians in Vranga's hands.
The ability to manipulate control Qi outside the body was the defining ability of the Realm of Spiritual Manifestation. By withdrawing Qi stored within the dantian and expelling it from one or more of the 12 meridians, a Cultivator could empower their attacks and likewise defend against them.
But such a feat was easier said than done; proper application required the flow of Qi to be steady and uniform, which required years of training to achieve in the heat of combat. Undoubtedly, Fal knew this and yet had thrown Silva to the starving wolf anyway.
'He thinks I can win,' Silva's mind was racing as Vranga reached him and threw out a punch, one that split the air with a ferocious howl aimed at Silva's chest, 'But he knows I haven't even cultivated using my pathways, how could I possibly-'
Silva froze as a sudden thought crossed his mind, 'Surely it can't be that simple…of course it is, that's why he did it, because he knew I would eventually realize how foolish this all is.'
Qi projection was the exact inverse of cultivation, reversing the flow of Qi in the pathways and expelling what was stored within the dantain. But Silva had never properly cultivated his pathways; instead, he had relied on his spiritual roots and assumed they could play only one role.
'What a dangerously limiting assumption.'
Silva couldn't help but smile as, with a thought, he opened his spiritual roots and reversed their pull into a push, sending a wave of Qi cascading from every pore of his body.