Then he lowered his hand again.
A second later, a small manual appeared in his palm.
The pages were already worn around the edges from how often he had studied them during the journey back to the sect.
At first, the text had been nearly impossible to understand.
It spoke about soul force in a way completely different from the cultivation manuals he had learned before.
But now he understood the rough concept.
It was less like circulating qi through meridians and more like shaping something invisible.
The core idea sounded simple.
Once a cultivator awakened soul force, they could project it outward from the mind palace.
But instead of using it briefly—like when retrieving something from a spatial ring—you gave it form.
A shape.
Then you held that shape outside the mind palace for as long as possible.
When the soul force finally ran dry and recovered again later, it would return slightly stronger.
Riven stared at the page for a moment.
Simple in theory.
Difficult in practice.
He closed the manual and set it aside.
Then he closed his eyes.
The inside of his mind grew quiet as he reached inward.
His awareness settled on the familiar space of the mind palace.
The faint presence of his soul force lingered there like a small reservoir of pale light.
Slowly, he guided a thin strand of it outward.
The sensation was strange.
But eventually a faint thread of invisible energy hovered just outside his mind palace.
Now came the difficult part.
The manual had said the image should be simple at first.
The simpler the form, the longer it could be maintained.
Riven opened his eyes.
His gaze drifted to the back of his left hand.
The spider-shaped tattoo stared back at him.
Black lines.
Eight legs.
Simple.
He focused.
The thread of soul force outside his mind palace slowly bent.
Curved.
Split.
He imagined the lines of the tattoo.
Not detailed.
Just the basic shape.
A small body.
Eight thin legs extending outward.
A big oval in between.
And a smaller circle for the head.
The soul force trembled as the shape began to take form.
Then it collapsed.
Shit.
Riven exhaled quietly and tried again.
It collapsed.
But he didn't give up.
He kept trying.
And he kept failing.
Unable to guide his soul force into such a precise form.
But as he kept repeating the same actions over and over he eventually improved.
Finally the lines held.
A crude shape hovered within his perception.
A simple two-dimensional spider.
Not detailed.
Not perfect.
More like a child's drawing than a real creature.
A stick spider.
But it existed.
Outside his mind palace.
Riven held it there.
Seconds passed.
Then a minute.
Maintaining the shape required constant focus.
The moment his attention wavered, the legs trembled as if they would dissolve back into formless energy.
He held it steady.
The pressure slowly built inside his mind.
A dull fatigue spread behind his eyes.
The longer he maintained the shape, the heavier it felt.
The stick spider flickered once.
Then again.
Riven gritted his teeth and forced the image to remain intact.
Another moment passed.
Then the thread snapped.
The spider shape dissolved instantly.
Riven leaned forward slightly as the last of his soul force drained away.
A wave of exhaustion washed through his mind.
It wasn't physical fatigue.
But something deeper.
As if part of his awareness had simply… run out.
He sat there quietly, breathing slowly until the dizziness faded.
So that's how it works.
He glanced at the manual again.
If the instructions were correct, his soul force would recover after some time.
And when it did…
It would return slightly stronger than before.
Riven leaned back against the wall again.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
This might take a while.
But if it did as promised... it seemed worth it.
Riven remained seated for a while after the soul force faded.
The strange exhaustion clung to him stubbornly.
Riven exhaled slowly and leaned back against the wall.
Training soul force clearly wasn't something he could repeat immediately. It would take time for it to recover.
Qi cultivation wasn't much better.
Normally he would simply sit down and either absorb more qi or try to refine his current reserves. But right now even that felt unappealing. The dull pressure behind his eyes made focusing on cultivation difficult.
Martial practice was out of the question as well.
His body might still move, but practicing techniques without proper focus would just lead to sloppy habits.
Which meant…
For once, Riven actually had nothing to train.
The realization felt strange.
For a moment he simply sat there, staring at the lantern leaning slightly crooked beside the wall.
Then a stray thought surfaced.
A girl sitting behind a counter.
One leg swinging lazily beneath a desk while she pretended not to watch everything happening in the room.
Dark hair that never quite stayed in place and sharp eyes that always carried a hint of amusement, as if the world around her was a joke only she understood.
Her lips flashing with a crooked smile.
Riven blinked slowly.
It wasn't the girl who had been haunting his thoughts these past few days.
That was someone else entirely.
Someone he hadn't seen for what felt like a lifetime.
Lumi.
He wondered how she was doing.
Riven leaned forward slightly, resting his elbow on his knees.
There wasn't much point in continuing to sit here.
Which meant he was free.
For once.
Riven stood up.
If he couldn't train anyway, he might as well check in on her.
Make sure she was still alive.
The Resource Hall wasn't far from here.
He stepped outside a moment later, the cool evening air brushing softly against his skin as he left Jasmine Garden behind.
It was already late now.
The sect felt quieter at this hour. Lanterns had begun to flicker to life along the stone paths, casting warm light across the polished walkways. A few disciples passed by in small groups, their conversations low and casual.
None of them paid him much attention.
Riven walked steadily through the familiar paths of the sect until the larger structure of the Resource Hall appeared ahead.
The faint smell of herbs drifted through the partially open door.
He stepped toward the entrance.
Then—
"Riven?"
The voice came from his side.
Riven stopped.
A disciple about his age stood a few paces away, wearing the plain robes of an outer disciple. The boy stared at him with wide eyes, surprise written clearly across his face.
For a moment, Riven didn't recognize him.
The boy looked familiar in the vague way many sect disciples did—same age, similar build, same stiff posture of someone still adjusting to sect life.
But the way he had just addressed him made Riven pause.
The boy took a cautious step closer.
"You're… alive?"
The words came out somewhere between disbelief and relief.
Riven frowned slightly.
"…Do I know you?"
The boy blinked.
Then he laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Right. I guess we didn't really talk."
He shifted his weight.
"But we were in the same intake trial."
That was when it clicked.
Riven's gaze sharpened.
The intake trial.
He hadn't thought about that day in a long time.
And he hadn't wanted to.
The boy continued quickly, clearly still processing what he was seeing.
"I was one of the regular candidates, so we never interacted much."
His voice dropped slightly.
"But my brother was also one of the more promising candidates like you and he'd told me about you. And then all of you got taken away for some kind of early test they said."
Riven didn't know who the boys brother was.
But he remembered the early test he was talking about.
The courtyard.
The measuring disk.
Kael's calm voice.
He pushed the memory down.
The boy shook his head slowly, still staring at him.
"After that… nobody ever saw you guys again."
He let out a short breath.
"We thought something happened."
Riven didn't answer.
The boy looked at him more carefully now.
"But you're here."
There was a strange mix of emotions on his face.
Surprise.
Relief.
And something else.
Hope.
"If you made it… maybe my brother did too."
Riven's fingers tightened slightly at his side.
The boy continued, his voice quick now, almost eager.
"Since he was with you..."
His gaze searched Riven's face.
"Do you know where he is?"
Riven didn't respond immediately.
Inside, the memory forced its way back.
The courtyard.
Mira standing beside him.
And the other kids in front.
Kael's hand lifting.
And then—
Ash.
Smoke.
Nothing left.
The boy kept talking.
"We never found out what happened to you guys. The elders never said anything."
His voice carried nervous energy now.
"Some people said they got moved somewhere else for special training. Others said they failed and were sent away."
He took another step closer.
Repeating himself again.
"But if you're here…"
Hope flickered again.
"Then maybe my brother is too."
Riven finally moved.
He shook his head once.
"I don't know."
His voice came out flat.
The boy blinked.
"You don't?"
Riven avoided his eyes.
"I left the sect not long after."
Which was technically true.
The boy's shoulders sank slightly.
"Oh."
Silence hung between them.
Riven glanced briefly at the boy's robes again.
Outer disciple.
That made sense.
He must have officially joined with the regular intake.
Two or three months ago, probably.
Right after Riven had left for Verdance.
The boy rubbed his hands together nervously.
"I just thought… maybe you knew something."
Riven didn't respond.
He couldn't.
Because the answer was something the boy would never accept.
And something Riven had no intention of explaining.
He turned toward the Resource Hall.
The entrance was only a few steps away.
But suddenly it felt farther.
But suddenly it felt farther.
Talking to someone—even Lumi—suddenly seemed much less interesting.
Behind him, the boy spoke again.
"What actually happened during that testing?"
The courtyard flashed through Riven's mind again.
Ash drifting in the air.
Silence.
Then he started walking.
"Sorry. I have to go."
The boy called after him once more.
"Riven?"
Riven didn't turn around.