The courtyard of Dao Xuanzhen Academy lay drenched in moonlight, its cobblestone paths shimmering with the faint silver of dew. The world slept, but one figure knelt alone in its heart — still as stone, fierce as flame.
Polyfalls Yen sat cross-legged beneath the ancient willow, his breath shallow, his gaze distant. The wind stirred, whispering through the branches like murmurs of long-dead spirits. Around him, faint wisps of qi coiled — soft blue light tracing the outline of his body, like a candle flame trembling against the dark.
Inside him, the craving burned.
> "Power…" he whispered. "Just a little more…"
The moon gleamed upon a small pouch in his hand. Inside, spiritual stones glowed faintly — pale jade, glistening like frozen stars. He held one between his fingers, and a faint hum echoed through the air.
Spiritual stones were the lifeblood of cultivators. Crystallized from heaven and earth's essence, they pulsed with qi — pure, refined, alive.
Low-grade stones were soft and dim, used for daily training.
Mid-grade stones burned brighter, dense with power — the kind used to forge elixirs and strengthen artifacts.
High-grade stones, rarer still, were treasures worth more than gold — said to contain the whisper of Heaven's will.
But to Polyfalls, every stone was a heartbeat — a step closer to freedom.
A step away from the humiliation of weakness.
The demon whale's deep voice rumbled inside his spirit sea.
"You hunger too much, child. Desire is a tide — it will either lift you or drown you."
Polyfalls smirked faintly. "Then I will learn to breathe beneath the waves."
The whale's eye — vast as a moon, filled with sorrow and pride — flickered in the depths of his mind before fading away. Silence returned, but the ache within him only deepened.
The Alchemist's Hall
The next morning, the academy's bell tolled, and students flowed through the courtyards like rivers of color and noise. Polyfalls walked among them in silence — his robes plain, his hair unkempt, eyes dark from sleepless nights.
He made his way to the Refinement Hall, drawn by the scent of herbs and molten qi. Inside, the air shimmered with heat. Bronze cauldrons lined the walls, each etched with runes that glowed faintly. Alchemy students busied themselves grinding powders, fanning flames, and chanting incantations.
At the center stood an elder with snow-white hair — Master Qian — who was demonstrating the refinement of an Elixir of Vital Essence.
Blue fire burned beneath the cauldron as the elder's hands wove intricate seals. The herbs dissolved, merging into liquid light. A fragrant steam filled the room — sharp, clean, alive.
> "Elixirs," Master Qian said, "are the art of giving shape to heaven's essence. Refinement," he continued, pointing toward the forges, "is the art of shaping heaven's metal. Together, they form the bones and blood of every cultivator's path."
Polyfalls' eyes widened slightly.
Elixirs can repair what nature has broken… and artifacts can forge what fate has denied.
He clenched his fists. If he could master both, he wouldn't need to beg Heaven for mercy — he could create his own destiny.
But learning required spiritual stones — hundreds of them. And he had barely a handful.
As he turned to leave, a soft voice stopped him.
---
The Moonlit Girl
"Polyfalls Yen…?"
The voice was light, melodic, yet it carried through the noise like wind over glass. He turned.
A girl stood by the doorway — tall, slender, her robes white as frost. Meilin Xue — the name every student whispered with admiration and longing. Her long black hair shimmered under the morning sun, and her silver eyes gleamed with a strange, knowing light.
Polyfalls blinked. "You… know my name?"
She smiled faintly. "I do. It's hard not to notice the one who trains beneath the willow every night. The one who doesn't stop even when he bleeds."
Her words struck him harder than any insult ever had. He was used to mockery, not attention.
Whispers rose around them like rustling leaves.
> "Why is she talking to him?"
"That's Polyfalls — the one with the fifth-grade root."
"Trash like him doesn't deserve to breathe near Meilin."
Meilin ignored them. She looked at Polyfalls with quiet interest — not pity, not scorn.
> "The eyes that have seen darkness," she said softly, "see truth differently."
He didn't know what to say. Her gaze was too calm, too clear — it unsettled him.
"People will talk," he muttered.
"Let them," she said, smiling. "They always do."
Before he could reply, a shadow fell between them.
---
The Challenge
"Step away from her, filth."
The voice was sharp, filled with venom.
A tall young man with golden-trimmed robes strode forward — Jiang Ren, grandson of Elder Jiang, the academy's Health Division chief. His qi flared faintly, showing his cultivation — Peak Qi Stage, 2nd-grade root. He was one of the academy's rising stars.
He looked Polyfalls up and down with disgust. "Meilin, you shouldn't lower yourself. Trash belongs with dirt, not beside you."
Meilin's eyes turned cold. "Mind your words, Jiang Ren."
Jiang Ren sneered. "I'm only speaking truth." He gestured toward one of his followers. "Challenge him. Let's see if he dares lift his head again."
The lackey stepped forward, cracking his knuckles. "Polyfalls Yen, I challenge you! Or are you too afraid?"
Laughter rippled through the crowd.
Meilin stepped forward, furious. "Enough! This is beneath you all—"
But Polyfalls raised his hand. "No. I accept."
The laughter died.
Polyfalls' voice was calm, but his eyes gleamed like embers. "But if I win… you will give me twenty spiritual stones."
Jiang Ren smirked. "And if you lose?"
Polyfalls' tone turned cold. "Then I will quit the academy."
Gasps. Murmurs.
> "Is he insane?"
"He's at Initial Qi! His opponent's at Peak!"
"He'll be crushed!"
Meilin turned to him sharply. "Are you sure you want this?"
He looked at her — a faint smile tugged at his lips. "I need this. To feed the fire within me."
Jiang Ren's lackey laughed. "Three days, trash. The arena. Don't run."
"Three days," Polyfalls echoed, voice quiet but sharp as a blade. "I'll be waiting."
---
The Walk Home
When the crowd dispersed, Meilin walked beside him. Neither spoke at first — the silence between them thick as twilight mist.
"You're reckless," she said finally.
"Maybe," he replied. "But the weak must gamble their blood to buy strength."
Meilin frowned. "There are other ways."
He looked at her. "Not for me."
They walked until the academy gates came into view. Meilin stopped and took something from her sleeve — a small crystal vial filled with pale blue liquid.
"An elixir of healing," she said softly. "Take it. For the fight."
He hesitated, then shook his head. "No. The scars will remind me why I must win."
She looked at him for a long moment. "You're strange, Polyfalls Yen."
He smiled faintly. "Strange is just another word for broken."
As she turned to leave, her voice drifted back — gentle, almost wistful. "Then I hope you find beauty in your brokenness."
---
Night Meditation
That night, the moon hung low and red, bleeding light across the clouds. Polyfalls sat cross-legged in his room, a single spiritual stone hovering before him. The demon whale's shadow rippled faintly behind him, vast and watchful.
He began to draw qi into his meridians, slow and deep. His breath became the rhythm of the sea; his thoughts, the tide.
The qi pulsed through him — fire and ice, pain and bliss. He guided it carefully, refining impurities, expanding his dantian inch by inch.
But hunger whispered louder with every breath.
He could feel the stone's energy dwindling.
He wanted more — needed more.
His fingers tightened around the stone until cracks webbed across its surface. Sweat dripped down his temples, his veins glowing faintly with qi. The demon whale's voice echoed from the depths:
> "Careful, child. Power hungers more than men do."
Polyfalls smiled through clenched teeth. "Then I'll make power choke on me."
And then, faintly, he began to murmur a poem — words that weren't quite his own, as though the moon whispered them into his soul:
> "Moonlight bleeds upon the still pond's skin,
Stones hum with hunger — echoing within.
The world devours those who fear to bite,
So I shall feast upon the endless night.
Power is sin — and I was born to sin right."
As the final line left his lips, his qi erupted. The air shuddered, the room trembled. The cracked spiritual stone burst into fragments, scattering light like dying stars.
His body trembled — pain and ecstasy merging into one.
Inside, the demon whale roared softly, both warning and pride entwined.
When dawn came, Polyfalls opened his eyes. His aura was stronger, deeper — his Qi had reached the Middle Stage.
He exhaled slowly, a faint smile curving his lips.
> "Three days," he whispered. "Three days, and I'll carve my name in blood and stone."
Outside, the academy buzzed with rumor and disbelief. The duel between the "trash" and the prodigy was all anyone could talk about.
And beneath the rising sun, the boy once deemed worthless stood silently — his shadow long and sharp against the earth.