I awoke in a haze of pain, my body a wreck, as if I'd been trampled by a herd of spiritual beasts. The small cell in the Frostfort hadn't changed a whit in my absence—bare stone walls, a creaking bed, and a faint chill that seeped into my bones. I groaned, dragging myself upright, and slipped into a fresh set of disciple robes, the fabric rough but clean against my battered skin. Settling into a meditative stance, I turned inward, probing the chaos within.
The ordeal with Xu Xie had pushed an ocean of spiritual energy through me, and my body and meridians were paying the price. My spiritual channels screamed with each pulse of qi, frayed like overused ropes. Yet, there was a silver lining—the colossal strain had shattered the bottleneck, propelling me to the peak of Qi Condensation. Physically, I surpassed early Meridian Tempering cultivators. Spiritually, though… I was a mess.
I pulled a handful of spirit stones from my spatial ring, their faint glow casting shadows on the walls. Channeling qi through Song of Pure Flame, I began circulating energy. Pain flared, sharp and searing, as if my meridians were lined with thorns. Without the Flame of Life's healing, I'd be a spiritual cripple, my cultivation snuffed out like a candle in a storm. But the technique's new effect mended not just my body but my spirit, knitting the damage with agonizing slowness. Master So Yun's words echoed: ten years, minimum, to recover. I had a chance, and it wasn't small.
"Ten years! At least!" she'd declared a week ago, her blue eyes narrowing as she scanned me with an arcane technique.
"You're lucky the Frostfort has an alchemist like me. Without Silver Grove Dew pills, you'd have lost your cultivation entirely! Now, tell me again—every detail!"
I sighed, launching into my tale for the second time. An hour earlier, three sect masters had grilled me, their questions sharp but disinterested, save for So Yun. Our disappearance hadn't gone unnoticed. A search party had found the ice pit teeming with frost worms, which the masters obliterated, but no cave, no ruins—nothing. They'd searched for us, or rather, our corpses, and written us off as dead.
Ryu's return, days later, had only deepened the mystery. He'd babbled nonsense, offering no clarity on our fate, and the sect buried me in their minds for the second time. Only So Yun clung to hope—perhaps she knew something, or simply believed in me. When I spoke of the cave, the ruins, the lake, and the dragon, disbelief met me. No proof, no dragon surpassing Core Formation known to the Frostfort. My claim of learning a Spiritual-rank ice technique—Black Blizzard—and offering it to the sect made their eyes bulge.
I kept silent about Devourer, the Heavenly-rank technique, and Xu Xie's deception. They didn't need to know. The sect promised ten thousand points if I could produce a manual for Black Blizzard, provided someone could learn and use it. Without that, no reward. I blamed my condition on the ice technique's study, claiming the unfamiliar element and artifact had damaged me. It wasn't entirely a lie, and it kept the system's existence hidden.
Just when I thought the ordeal was over, So Yun dragged me to her office, her white hair gleaming like moonlight. No questions—just a barrage of diagnostic techniques, their energy prickling my skin like a thousand needles.
"No dragon in Frost Ridge's oldest legends," she said, shaking her head.
"If I couldn't sense truth from lies, I'd think you killed Li and spun this tale. But you believe it."
"An illusion, then?" I ventured, careful to mask my half-truths. I'd suspected cultivators could detect lies.
"Frost worms can affect the mind, but even a peasant could resist," she mused, sorting through vials of pills.
"Then there's Ryu. His spirit-walking lets him touch adjacent planes, and he's… unhinged. Master Belozar found a strange mark on him, and he jumped two stages to peak Meridian Tempering. Belozar isolated him, just in case. But it proves nothing."
"So, what's the verdict?" I asked, my voice tight.
"Recall the technique. If it's fake, that's one thing. If I can learn it…" Her eyes gleamed with hunger.
"You just want to study it," I laughed, easing the tension.
"Junior Kai, do you know how rare Spiritual-rank techniques are?" she said, her voice fervent.
"I've sought one for my final locus for a century! If this is a dragon's gift, I'll risk it."
"I'll write it down while it's fresh," I said, rising.
"Rest, little Kai. Meet me tonight—I trust you won't delay this time?" Her gaze pierced me, and I froze. What could I say? That my cultivation reset erased our past? I wanted these ten years to pass quietly, to grow stronger. Logically, ten years ago, I was a child—things change. I needed a story, one her lie-sensing wouldn't unravel.
That evening, in clean robes, I stood before her massive doors. Patrol points had covered a bath, food, and new clothes. My old ones, stained with worm blood, were ruined, a pile of red-blue rags.
"Standing there forever, little Kai?" So Yun's voice teased from within.
"Waiting for an invitation," I replied, stepping inside.
Her room was a haven of warmth amidst the Frostfort's ice. Vases painted with mountain vistas, tiny incense burners, tapestries of mythical beasts—all spoke of her effort to soften the cold stone. It worked, the air rich with the scent of sandalwood and herbs.
I sat on a small sofa across from her, a tea table between us, a steaming porcelain teapot at its center. I smiled, remembering my ring's contents.
"A gift for Lady So," I said, producing a pouch of tea with a flourish.
"You have a spatial ring?" Her eyes widened.
"Thank you, but—where did you get it, little Kai?"
"My father's gift," I said, cursing my slip. A spatial ring was rare, a target for greed.
"Don't show it to anyone!" she snapped.
"Who else knows?"
"No one," I lied, hesitating a moment.
"Good. Keep it that way. Our sect's disciples are less cutthroat than others, but be careful."
"Thank you, honored So," I bowed.
The tea ceremony began, her blend rich with qi—herbs infused with spiritual energy. My attempt to brew earned a laugh.
"Barbarian," she teased, taking over.
Her movements were a ritual, almost magical—roasting leaves, rinsing them in varying waters, blending with precision. When the tea reached my cup, I was almost disappointed; watching her was mesmerizing. The aroma, though, was divine.
"How is it?" she asked.
"This blend is thousand-year herbs and rare Maple Mountain tea from the Immortal Ridge. Alchemists would kill for a touch."
I hesitated, the tea's qi daunting, but sipped. Pain eased, the qi soothing my meridians.
"Exquisite," I said honestly.
"You made this for me?"
"Can't I spoil my future husband?" she winked.
"What?" I nearly choked.
"Oh, Kai, have you forgotten? In the Phoenix Palace, you promised to marry me. Breaking your word? Am I too old, too plain?" She wiped an imaginary tear, her beauty—flawless skin, white hair, blue eyes—undeniable, enhanced by her Core Formation stage.
"You're radiant, like stars in the night sky, like white jade under moonlight," I blurted, then froze.
"Did you spike the tea? Truth serum?"
"Just herbs and a pinch of love," she giggled, a girl's laugh in a master's body.
"I'm flattered, Kai."
"I can't marry until I reach Core Formation," I said, stone-faced.
"I can wait, little Kai," she winked. Was she serious?
"The tea's taste, not its alchemy—what do you think?"
I nearly called it the best, but stopped. It was incredible, but second to my clan leader's tea.
"Second place," I admitted.
"Clan Leader Shen's is first."
"Cao Shen invited you for tea?" she said, surprised.
"I'm glad he values you. No offense taken—his millennia of skill outshine mine. How's the clan? Still bullying you? Belozar called your movement technique trash."
"Bullying? My position's tricky," I said.
"But I manage. Undefeated in duels."
"Duels?" Her eyes dimmed.
"I hoped things would improve. I tried to help, Kai. I hope I didn't make it worse."
"You didn't," I said firmly, her sadness stirring unease, a ghost of my forgotten past.
What secrets did So Yun hold, and how would they shape my path in the Frostfort?