The frontier village stirred to life with the first light of dawn. The cool morning air carried the scent of damp earth and burning firewood as recruits gradually returned to the training grounds, some wearing excited smiles while others looked thoroughly defeated. The difference between them was obvious. A few sat quietly with eyes closed, still trying to perceive the rhythm hidden within their Spirit Blood, while others had finally found it during the night and were cautiously matching their breathing to its pulse.
Only a handful had progressed further. They stood awkwardly around the courtyard, taking slow, careful steps while concentrating so intensely that they looked ready to faint if someone spoke to them. Every few moments, someone's breathing would break, causing the thin film of Qi surrounding their body to scatter. They would let out a heavy sigh, then immediately begin again.
Across the courtyard, Ethan casually walked a full circle around the old oak tree before stopping beside Miller. "I made it twenty-seven steps."
Miller looked up, wiping sweat from his brow. "You counted?"
"I count everything."
"...Why?"
"So I know when I beat my record."
Leon smiled faintly as he watched the exchange from a distance. One afternoon had been enough; Ethan still wasn't completely comfortable, but he was no longer actively fighting Sage Breathing. He was learning to live with it, exactly as Kaelen had predicted.
Leon drew a slow, quiet breath. The familiar rhythm rose and fell naturally, and only now did he fully notice it. He hadn't consciously activated Sage Breathing this morning because he hadn't needed to; the process had continued throughout the entire night. While he slept, his body had quietly accepted the foreign rhythm as a fundamental part of itself. The Universal Vessel had done what it always did: adapt.
He smiled to himself, tracking the seamless loop within his chest. "So that's what you were doing."
Maintaining Sage Breathing no longer required active effort, happening as naturally as blinking or breathing. He slowly looked toward the oak tree where Kaelen had first explained the mechanics of Sage Guidance. "...Guess today's the day."
Lyra noticed him walking over, her silver feathers rustling slightly. "You rested?"
Leon nodded. "I followed the General's advice."
She smiled approvingly, crossing her arms. "Good. No shortcuts."
"No shortcuts."
She stepped aside without another word. Several veterans glanced over as Leon settled beneath the old oak, word having already spread about his performance yesterday. The concept of a strange young human who had mastered Sage Breathing almost immediately had naturally brought curiosity along with it.
Leon closed his eyes, letting Sage Breathing continue effortlessly as his attention shifted away from his lungs. Breathing wasn't the next obstacle; the Qi itself was. He carefully recalled Kaelen's explanation: guide the Spirit Blood, pull the layer inward, and create a vacuum so nature can fill the gap. It was simple in theory, but immensely difficult in practice.
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Leon extended his perception toward the nearly invisible layer of Qi resting against his skin. It felt unbelievably thin, almost like a transparent second skin stretched tightly across his body. He reached toward it with his Spirit Blood, but met nothing. He tried again, and still found nothing. He adjusted the internal rhythm slightly, but the air remained unchanged.
Instead of forcing more raw power, he simply observed. The Universal Vessel silently reflected every microscopic response, mapping out the intent, movement, resistance, and distance. Every failed attempt became another piece of actionable information, another connection, and another verified pattern. Within moments, thousands of incorrect possibilities had already been discarded by his consciousness.
Leon tried once more. This time, the thin layer of Qi trembled. Keeping his eyes closed, he made one tiny structural correction, and the trembling immediately turned into movement. The Qi slipped smoothly beneath his skin. At the exact same instant, fresh ambient Qi rushed toward the empty space it had left behind, sending a cool, sudden current spreading across his arm.
"There."
He repeated the process. Again and again, he guided the layer and allowed nature to replace it. Each cycle became noticeably smoother than the last as the Universal Vessel absorbed every success almost instantly. Within a single minute, the process spread naturally across his entire body, causing the surrounding Qi to flow inward continuously.
Leon didn't stop. Success alone wasn't enough; stability mattered far more, so he continued cycling the process through minute adjustments. Eventually, nothing needed correcting anymore as the flow became perfectly uniform, starting to slowly and steadily fill his meridians. Another minute passed before Leon finally opened his eyes.
He stood up, causing no disruption to the internal loop as the flow continued. He took one step, then another, his posture remaining perfectly stable. He walked directly across the courtyard toward Lyra, the current of Qi never faltering.
"You were right," Leon said, his voice remaining perfectly calm. "It requires more concentration than Sage Breathing."
Lyra stared at him, her eyes wide. "...You're still maintaining it."
Leon looked down briefly. "I am."
"You've been walking."
"Yes."
"And talking."
"Yes."
A heavy silence fell over the immediate area as nearby conversations gradually stopped. One veteran lowered the whetstone he had been using to polish his blade, his brow furrowing deeply. "...Already?"
Another soldier stepped forward, activating his Sage Eyes. The world instantly shifted to his spiritual sight, making the invisible currents of Qi visible, and he immediately froze. "...He's actually doing it."
A third veteran slowly stood up from the bench. "I couldn't move for nearly a week when I first tried it."
"I needed another week before I could even hold a conversation," the second added, shaking his head. "No... this shouldn't happen."
Leon blinked, looking at the stunned crowd. "...Haven't we been through that before?"
No one answered immediately, as even Lyra struggled to find words. Eventually, she managed a quiet, strained smile. "...You're terrifying."
Ethan wandered over, breaking the tension. "So? You figured it out?"
Leon nodded. "It wasn't as difficult as I expected."
Ethan folded his arms, giving a deadpan look. "I'll pretend I'm surprised."
"You shouldn't."
"I wasn't going to."
Leon chuckled softly, and their brief conversation ended there, simple and comfortable.
Off to one side of the courtyard, a young Feather Race veteran quietly watched Leon. He had remained entirely silent since the beginning, his Sage Eyes never leaving the young human because something felt fundamentally wrong. A chill was going through his body making his hairs stand.
He tightened his grip around the shaft of the spear in his hand. 'Humans don't adapt like this, neither do the feathers or any sentient race I know of.' he thought, his gaze lingering on Leon as the young man continued walking while maintaining flawless Sage Guidance. Unless... The dark thought surfaced before he could stop it. *...No. Impossible.*
Yet no matter how many times his logic rejected it, the underlying doubt refused to disappear. Could this outsider be a beast wearing human skin? His fingers slowly relaxed around the spear, and he shook his head once to clear his mind. No, that was ridiculous; the Soul Observer scanned everyone before letting them inside the fortress walls. There had to be another logical explanation.
He silently returned to polishing his weapon, but every so often, his eyes drifted back toward Leon. The seed of suspicion had already taken root.