Kisrin stares at the words in the little journal handed to him by Tantra.

  It’s leatherbound and somehow soft to the touch, with a creamy white exterior. It houses inside of it a technique, along with all the theoreticals of how the technique works, and a few advanced applications. All of it is ridiculous.

  “Is this how you got to foundation so quickly?” He asks.

  “Exactly,” she says, “you see now why I insisted you focus on the control exercises.”

  “And you think I can do this without accidentally killing myself?”

  Tantra nods.

  Kisrin just…stares at her.

  She’s pretty shit at dealing with grief isn’t she?

  Kisrin can see the effort pretty plainly, and frankly he isn’t very impressed, but he…appreciates it nonetheless. Yorin is worse somehow, while Etra just knows not to try, giving him the space he needs. Rakan’s just been acting like his usual self around him, which is honestly the most helpful of all of them.

  Being treated like nothing's wrong lets him pretend that nothing’s wrong. Everyone else is just constantly reminding him that his family and home are gone. He hasn’t cried yet, he’s kind of surprised by that, he loses everything and can’t even shed a tear? That’s a little cruel, isn’t it? They at least deserved his tears.

  “Kisrin?”

  “Hmm?”

  Tantra purses her lips but ignores his lapse in concentration, “try it, you’ve already been circulating for a while now, it should speed up the process drastically, you just have to make sure to go slow.”

  Kisrin shrugs, what’s he got to lose?

  Literally nothing.

  He sits in a lotus stance, resting his feet on his thighs as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Unnecessary, he’s not gathering, but it’s a nice little comfort. He looks inside himself, well, doesn’t really look, more like uses his Qi sense to get an understanding of his internals. All his major meridians are cleansed, and upwards of two hundred minor ones. It’s gotten a little difficult, needing a few days worth of soul Qi just to cleanse one. It’s frustrating but he’s making progress.

  He finds his core overlapping with his heart. Meridians and the core serve distinct purposes. The core stores Qi, and while meridians do the same, any Qi stored in them enhances the corresponding body part. Unfortunately meridians don’t grow, at least in no way that he knows of, so the only way to enhance that micro boost is to increase density, which requires a lot of investment for just one meridian before anchoring. That’s the other thing they do, acting as anchors so that the third step is easier, although he’s heard it's just as much about self understanding as it is about cleansing the meridians.

  He wonders how well he understands himself.

  Probably not all that much, he’s a kid after all.

  He takes a few motes from his core, and carefully moves it to what the journal described as a ‘chamber’, he doesn’t know the body all that well, but the heart being some kind of pump sounds kind of ingenious. He’s never examined it with his Qi before, because, well, dying, but now he’s kind of amazed by the sensations that transfer through his Qi.

  Ba-dum.

  Ba-dum.

  It’s so fast, don’t the muscles get tired? He wonders what each chamber is for, the book specified that there are four but not what they did. Gathering and sending maybe? That’s what makes the most sense to him, but then why are there four instead of two? He has a sudden urge to study biology to understand what it is he’s feeling right now.

  But he’s not here for that.

  He lets out the breath he’d been holding, and with the determination of a martyr, he boosts his blood.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  A sweet kiss from mother nature, like all the dryads came and made a resting place of his heart, enriching it with their roots. It’s so overwhelming and so good. Like a shot of ecstacy coursing through his veins.

  Huh.

  That might be exactly what it is.

  He takes another clump of Qi and boosts his blood again.

  The cool winds after a hard day of work, wiping sweat from the brow in satisfaction.

  He boosts again.

  -

  Tantra stares at Rakan.

  Rakan stares at Tantra.

  They’ve been maintaining this standoff for a full minute, neither blinking or speaking. Rakan’s a weird mix of happy and frustrated. The kid has spirit, sure, but she’s on the more cautious side of things when it comes to cultivation. He wishes she was less cautious when it comes to violence though, he wants to see the brutality and tenacity of the Tantra that fought the bear. He’s tried to be extra annoying just to pull it out of her but she adamantly refuses, being all lame and cautious. That’s all well and good for a sword or something, but you’ve gotta fit the aesthetic of the weapon you're wielding!

  Okay, not the best combat advice but the point still stands.

  Rakan sighs, giving up on their little staring match, “I was hoping we could pair your Qi senses properly.”

  “So the idea has merit then?”

  Rakan grumbles, how to word this?

  “Yes, but it’s extremely dangerous, do too much and you’ll kill youself quick.”

  “That’s why I’m planning on bringing my organs to foundation before trying it in practice.”

  “You don’t get it kid, even if they won’t take damage, they’ll still get exhausted. Organs aren’t meant to be exhausted, they're made for consistency. That full body boost idea of yours would have some serious backlash, assuming you live at all.”

  Tantra’s gaze doesn’t relent, and Rakan has to suppress the urge to sigh.

  “What’s gotten you in such a rush, not that I’m unhappy with you brainstorming your very own technique, it’s just unlike you. You don’t strike me as the type to be obsessed with strength.

  Tantra leans back and crosses her arms, “we could have died to the bear.”

  Rakan can’t really argue with that logic.

  Well, she’d learn how to do this herself eventually, she’s inquisitive and its not exactly complicated. All he’s been doing is delaying the inevitable, and delaying the inevitable is the realm of cowards.

  That and he doesn’t much care if she hurts herself.

  We learn best through pain afterall.

  He extends out his arm and flicks his wrist, reaching into his storage artifact and making a ball appear out of thin air.

  He tosses it to Tantra.

  She catches it.

  She looks to the ball, then to him, then back to the ball.

  “Make it float,” Rakan says simply.

  “Make it what?”

  “You heard me, you want to train intention? This is how you do it. Take your Qi, surround the ball, and use your will to bend reality, convincing it that the ball is something that floats. It’s not even that complicated of a concept, so go on, make it float.”

  Tantra just stares at him then nods, closing her eyes and pulling Qi from her core. He can see the thread pretty clearly, his Qi sight being too advanced or her body lacking in Qi, take your pick. Her control is insane, losing barely any motes of Qi.

  She brings the thread up to the palm of her hand, then disperses the Qi into a cloud around the ball, losing significantly more Qi due to both the shape her Qi has taken and being exposed to the atmosphere. Qi techniques outside the body need to be done swiftly, as the control needed to maintain something constant is far beyond even her. It’s why a lot of techniques are variations of internal boosting, cultivators flocking to simplicity and ease. Anything more complicated requires actual control, or a dao.

  He watches as the ball lifts, just a millimeter, perhaps less, but his eyes catch the separation.

  She lets out a heavy breath and lets go of her Qi.

  “I couldn’t do it,” Tantra laments.

  Rakan can barely contain his smile, “try again.”

  -

  Something is moving.

  It has eyes and a maw of steel.

  Many things have been crushed from its maw, and many words have been spoken. English is a strange language, one of words rather than pheromones, but it learned how to adapt. It's kind excel at that, adapting.

  They don’t really consider it one of their own anymore though, which is a shame, it misses the sense of family. But there’s plenty of the strange skinned folk to keep it company, so it makes do.

  So it walks.

  It doesn’t know where it is going.

  It never does in this place, it’s confusing, but there’s plenty of company and plenty of food. Sometimes both, and those days are quite the treat indeed. Eating is what it’s kind was born to do, but that’s not the only thing in the world, so it made a compromise.

  Sometimes it would eat.

  Sometimes it would talk.

  Right now it is hungry.

  As it walks through the foliage, it searches for its next meal.