Huo Chen steadied his breath, the air in the small room still vibrating from the clone's recent presence. The sensation was strange—like an echo of movement in a space that should be still. With a thought, he triggered the recall.
The clone dissolved before his eyes, transforming into a swirl of dense, ochre-colored earthen qi. The energy flowed inward like water finding its level, spiraling toward his abdomen as it returned to his dantian. Huo Chen watched, fascinated, as the manifestation he'd created mere minutes ago ceased to exist as a separate entity and became part of him once more.
The integration felt instinctive, yet profoundly bone-deep. It was as if a second heart had suddenly started beating in rhythm with his own, then merged back into a single pulse. As the earthen qi settled into his core, warmth spread through his meridians—a grounding sensation that stabilized his usually scattered Qi.
The energy that normally felt like it was trying to flow in three different directions at once suddenly had direction, purpose, stability. "The system didn't just give me a puppet, he realized, pressing a hand to his chest where he could feel the steady thrum of power. It's woven itself into my foundation and changed something fundamental."
The thought was exhilarating and terrifying in equal measure. Yet as the warmth faded and his breathing returned to normal, cold reality began to set in. The initial rush of discovery gave way to calculated thinking—the kind of survival instinct he'd developed over years of being unremarkable in a world that valued strength above all else. Caution.
That was his only real ally now. In the Huo Clan, displaying abilities beyond your known cultivation level attracted attention. Not the good kind—the dangerous kind. Questions would be asked. How did a fourth-layer disciple with trash-tier roots suddenly manifest a perfect elemental clone? Where did this technique come from? Who taught it to him? Questions led to investigations.
Investigations led to Elder scrutiny. And Elder scrutiny meant being studied, tested, possibly even dissected to understand the source of an anomaly. "This is my secret, Huo Chen thought firmly, standing up from his meditation mat;Nobody else needs to know". The system had given him an advantage—possibly the only real advantage he'd ever have in this life. He couldn't afford to waste it by being careless or arrogant. Every use of the clone would need to be calculated and carefully assessed.
Rising smoothly, Huo Chen adjusted his coarse linen robes, feeling the familiar grit of stone dust that seemed to permanently cling to anyone who worked the mines. It was in the fabric, in his hair, probably in his lungs by now. The mark of a laborer, not a cultivator. He stepped toward the door, and the wooden hinges groaned in protest—a sound so familiar he barely noticed it anymore.
These older quarters weren't maintained with the same care as the main family pavilions. The wood was weathered, the stone cracked in places, but it was home. Had been for most of his life. When he opened the door, Huo Lian was waiting outside. She leaned against a weathered stone pillar with her arms crossed over her chest, looking like she'd been there for a while. Her robes were finer silk than his rough linen—not ostentatiously expensive, but clearly better quality.
Her cultivation aura sat firmly at the sixth layer of Qi Refining, and she never bothered suppressing it. The energy pressed against the air around her like a subtle weight. Her eyes, sharp and analytical, scanned him from head to toe. Not looking for injuries or signs of distress—looking for changes, for anything out of place. "You look different today, Cousin," she remarked, her tone carrying that particular mix of curiosity and casual superiority she always had.
"Did you finally break through that wall you've been stuck at? Or is it just birthday lethargy making your eyes look heavy?" She noticed something, Huo Chen realized with a flicker of concern. Just from looking at me for a few seconds, she can tell something's changed. He kept his expression carefully neutral, his gaze steady.
"Just a long night of meditation, Cousin Lian. The breakthrough remains elusive, as always." The lie tasted bitter—like copper on his tongue—but he maintained his humble posture, shoulders slightly slumped, hands relaxed at his sides.
The body language of someone who'd spent years accepting their mediocrity. Huo Lian studied him for a moment longer, then seemed to accept the explanation. She pushed off from the pillar with fluid grace. "Well, you're needed at the main hall. Come on." Together, they began the walk across the compound.
The morning sun had fully risen now, burning away the last of the mist and casting everything in sharp, clear light. The Huo Clan ground sprawled before them like a small city carved into the mountainside—a maze of modest pavilions built from grey, weathered stone that seemed to grow directly out of the rock.
The architecture was functional rather than beautiful, designed to withstand the harsh mountain weather rather than impress visitors. The paths between buildings were lined with spirit herbs, though calling them "spirit" herbs felt generous. They looked yellowed and stunted, struggling in the thin, nutrient-poor soil of this altitude.
Their leaves were pale, their stems weak. A visual representation of the clan itself—hanging on, surviving, but not exactly thriving. In the training grounds to their left, the rhythmic thud-thud-thud of disciples striking wooden posts echoed across the compound. Some were younger than Huo Chen, their faces red with effort and concentration as they practiced the Basic Earth-Tremor Fist over and over again.
The same techniques he'd practiced at their age. The same grinding repetition that built foundation but rarely led to greatness. In the far distance, the main hall loomed like a sleeping beast against the mountain. Its roof was adorned with faded emblems—flames encircled by earthen motifs, the symbols of the Huo Clan's heritage. Once, those colors had probably been vibrant.
Now the paint was faded and peeling, exposed to decades of sun and wind and rain. "Like everything else here, Huo Chen thought. Faded glory. Better days long past." As they walked, a strange sensation washed over him. His mind felt... different. Larger, somehow. More spacious. Even with the clone fully dismissed and integrated back into his dantian, his consciousness felt expanded.
Part of him was fully present, navigating the stone path and keeping pace with Huo Lian. But another part—a new part—seemed to exist in a different space entirely, lingering on the system interface that had been burned into his mind. The "Sovereign Clone System," it had called itself. A name that promised power and dominion over the elements itself.
His mind churned with possibilities as they walked. If he sent the clone into the deepest, most unstable parts of the eastern mines—the sections where cave-ins were common and cultivators refused to go—he could harvest spirit stones without risking his actual body. The clone could work in conditions that would kill him. "And if the clone touches a vein of ore, he wondered, his fingers twitching slightly at his sides, will I feel the vibration through our shared consciousness? Can I use it to sense hidden pockets of Qi that even the Elders have missed?" The system had mentioned earth affinity.
Full earth affinity for the clone, synchronized with his own mixed roots. That meant the clone could potentially detect things his original body couldn't, sense gradations in the stone and soil that were invisible to normal spiritual sense. The possibilities felt endless.
The applications were staggering. But his face remained a careful mask of dull acceptance—the expression of a branch disciple who'd long since made peace with a life of mediocre cultivation and manual labor. They arrived at the main hall to find it already crowded. About two dozen disciples had gathered, filling the space with the low hum of conversation and speculation.
The atmosphere was thick with the scent of old incense—the cheap kind that left a residue—and the faint, salty tang of sweat from people who'd come straight from morning training. Most of the disciples here were at the early layers of Qi Refining, their robes stained with the distinctive red clay of the mining district.
These were the workers, the laborers, the ones who kept the clan functioning through sheer physical effort rather than cultivation prowess. On a low platform at the front of the hall stood Elder Huo Shun. He was a man who looked like he'd been carved from the very mountain they all lived on—deeply cracked skin weathered by decades of sun and wind, deep-set eyes that missed nothing, and a back that refused to bend despite his age.
At the ninth layer of Qi Refining, he represented the ceiling for most clan members. The absolute peak of what someone without exceptional talent could achieve. The three Foundation Establishment elders—Patriarch Huo Ling, Elder Wei, and Elder Mei—were nowhere to be seen. They remained in their private pavilions on the higher slopes, in areas where the Qi was richer and the spiritual energy more concentrated.
They dealt with clan politics, negotiations with other sects, and matters they considered worthy of their attention. Spirit beast incursions in the mines didn't qualify. Elder Shun's voice cut across the murmuring crowd, reinforced with a thread of Qi that made it carry clearly to every corner of the hall. "Disciples," he began, his tone flat and businesslike. "A pack of Iron-Fanged Wolves has breached the eastern mine perimeter.
They were drawn by the exposed spirit stones from last week's vein discovery. The scent of raw spiritual qi attracts them like blood." A low murmur rippled through the gathered disciples. Some looked nervous. Others excited. Huo Chen felt a prickle of genuine interest run up his spine. Iron-Fanged Wolves. He'd heard stories about them from other miners. Their hides were tough as leather, capable of turning aside weak blade strikes.
Their bite could snap a low-grade iron pickaxe clean in half. They were equivalent to cultivators at the second or third layer of Qi Refining—deadly for a lone worker caught by surprise, but a manageable threat for a coordinated team with proper preparation. "Elder Wei has already assigned a suppression team from the inner disciples," Shun continued, his eyes scanning the crowd as if measuring each person's courage.
"However, we need additional volunteers for perimeter patrol and cleanup duties. There will be carcasses to haul, tunnels to reinforce, and the area to secure." He paused, letting the weight of the request settle. Then came the part that made eyes light up across the room. "Participants will receive merit points. These can be redeemed for low-grade qi-gathering pills, basic earth-path techniques, or contribution tokens for library access."
The murmurs grew louder now, tinged with interest and calculation. For most disciples in this hall, merit points represented the only realistic path to advancement. The clan's monthly stipend was minimal—Huo Chen received three low-grade spirit stones per month, barely enough to prevent his cultivation from regressing, much less make actual progress with his triple mixed roots. Pills, techniques, resources—all of these required merit points earned through service to the clan.
Huo Lian glanced sideways at him, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. "Well, Cousin? Here's your chance to earn some points and buy a pill that actually works. Or will you stick to your usual routine—swinging a pickaxe in the dark and hoping the ceiling doesn't collapse?" The provocation was casual, almost playful, but Huo Chen heard the underlying assessment. She was curious whether he'd volunteer or play it safe.
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he watched as several disciples hurried toward the registration table that had been set up in the eastern wing of the hall.
Their faces were alight with a mixture of hope and determination—the expressions of people who saw danger as an acceptable price for opportunity. To them, this was a risky assignment that might yield some modest rewards.
To Huo Chen, it was something else entirely. Perimeter patrol means distance from watchful eyes. It means shadows, tunnels, and space to work. The perfect environment to test the clone's twenty-li range without anyone noticing.
He stood amid the shifting crowd, his expression calm and unremarkable. His heart beat steady in his chest. But inwardly, the system interface flickered at the edge of his consciousness: [Earth Element Clone: Ready for Manifestation]. "I'll go," Huo Chen said quietly, his voice cutting through Huo Lian's expectant silence.
"Merit points are merit points. Better than nothing." Huo Lian let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "Try not to get eaten, Chen. I'd hate to have to tell your father you were killed by a mangy wolf because you were too busy daydreaming." She turned and walked away, her better-quality robes swishing with each step.
Huo Chen watched her go, his expression never changing. But his mind was already racing ahead. Calculating distances. Weighing the clone's fifty-percent baseline capabilities against an Iron-Fanged Wolf's strength. Considering terrain, opportunities and risks.
He moved toward the registration table with steady, unhurried steps. His mind was already twenty li ahead, in the eastern mines, planning exactly how to turn this dangerous assignment into his first real test of the system's capabilities. For the first time in twenty-five years of mediocrity and grinding labor, Huo Chen was actually looking forward to a clan assignment.