The story spread through Greenbrook like wildfire in dry grass.
Eric Chen—the weakest disciple, the village joke, the boy who'd been stuck at Third Stage for years—had defeated Rorick Vaughn in a formal duel. Not just defeated him, but dominated him. Made him yield in front of the entire dojo.
It wasn't that Rorick was particularly powerful. In the grand scheme of things, a Seventh Stage Body Refinement cultivator in a backwater village was barely worth noting. But Rorick had made tormenting Eric his personal mission for years. Everyone knew Eric couldn't fight back, couldn't defend himself, could barely throw a proper punch.
And yet he'd won.
People whispered when Eric walked past. Some nodded respectfully. Others watched him with suspicious eyes, as if trying to figure out the trick, the angle, the explanation that would make the impossible make sense again.
Eric ignored them all.
He knew the truth—he was still weak. Seventh Stage Body Refinement was nothing. The dragon reminded him of this constantly, during every meditation session, every training exercise. There were cultivators who could annihilate entire villages with a gesture. Ones who flew through the sky, who lived for centuries, who reshaped reality with their will.
Eric was an ant who'd learned to defeat slightly smaller ants. Nothing more.
So he returned to the forest, to his routine. Three hours of meditation to refine his qi and strengthen his foundation. Then hunting, pushing his limits, testing himself against increasingly dangerous prey.
The F-rank beasts had become easy. Too easy. Eric could sense their movements before they attacked, predict their patterns, exploit their weaknesses. A Stone Wolf that would have killed him two months ago now fell in less than a minute. Shadow Cats required more caution, but even they posed little real threat.
Still, the dragon's warning echoed in his mind: "Complacency kills more cultivators than any beast."
So Eric remained cautious. He checked his surroundings constantly, never let his guard down, treated every fight as if it could be his last. The moment he started thinking himself invincible would be the moment something stronger found him.
But caution didn't change facts—F-rank beasts weren't providing enough challenge anymore. More importantly, they weren't providing enough resources.
Eric sat in his home one evening, counting his coins by candlelight while his mother and sister slept. He'd saved up eight gold crescents over the past two weeks—a fortune by their standards. But when he'd gone to the apothecary to price cultivation pills, Master Feng had quoted him three gold crescents for a single Bone Tempering Pill.
Three gold crescents. Three days of hunting, risking his life, for one pill that would be consumed in a single meditation session.
The mathematics were brutal. To progress faster, he needed resources. Resources required money. Money came from stronger beasts. Stronger beasts meant more risk.
There was no way around it.
"E-rank beasts," Eric murmured to himself.
**"Are you certain you're ready?"** the dragon asked. **"E-rank creatures are significantly more dangerous. They possess rudimentary intelligence, basic qi manipulation, and killing intent that can paralyze inexperienced cultivators."**
"I need to try. F-ranks aren't enough anymore."
**"Then we prepare properly. Start with a lower E-rank—something recently evolved from F-rank status. And Eric?"** The dragon's voice grew serious. **"Do not underestimate them. Pride has killed stronger cultivators than you."**
---
Eric spent two days scouting before making his move. He ranged deeper into the forest than usual, into territories where the trees grew older and the shadows darker. Here, the ambient qi was thicker, more potent. F-rank beasts avoided these areas instinctively, knowing they were outmatched.
He found his target on the third day—a Razorback Hog, recently evolved to lower E-rank based on the faint qi emanations Eric could now sense. It was massive, easily three times the size of a normal boar, with bristles like iron needles and tusks that gleamed with an unnatural sheen.
Eric watched it from a tree, studying its patterns. The hog was foraging, using its tusks to tear up roots and grubs. Powerful, but not particularly fast or agile. That would be his advantage.
He dropped from the tree silently, his dagger already in hand.
The hog's head snapped up immediately, its small eyes fixing on him with unnerving intelligence. It didn't charge blindly like an F-rank beast would have. Instead, it circled, assessing him, looking for weaknesses.
**"It's evaluating you,"** the dragon noted. **"E-ranks are smart enough to judge threats. Show no fear."**
Eric activated his qi, letting it flow through his meridians and into his limbs. Azure energy crackled faintly around his hands—a side effect of the dragon's power that he'd learned to control. The hog's eyes tracked the movement, and it snorted, pawing the ground.
Then it charged.
But it wasn't the straightforward rush of a lesser beast. The hog feinted left, then pivoted right at the last second. Eric barely dodged, the creature's tusk scoring a line across his ribs. Blood welled hot and immediate.
Eric rolled with the impact, coming up in a defensive stance. The hog had already turned, surprisingly nimble for its bulk, preparing another attack.
**"Use its momentum. It's strong but committed once it moves."**
The hog charged again. This time, Eric was ready. He waited until the last possible moment, then sidestepped and drove his dagger into the creature's flank as it passed. The blade sank deep, and the hog squealed in rage.
It spun faster than Eric anticipated, catching him with its shoulder and sending him flying. He hit a tree hard enough to knock the wind from his lungs, sliding to the ground in a daze.
The hog charged while he was vulnerable.
Eric forced himself to move, rolling sideways. Tusks slammed into the tree where his head had been, the impact splitting bark and sending splinters flying. Before the hog could extract its tusks, Eric was on his feet, circling to its wounded side.
The beast finally freed itself and turned, but it was slower now, the wound in its flank bleeding freely. Eric pressed his advantage, darting in to slash at its legs, then retreating before it could retaliate. Cut and run, cut and run—the tactics he'd learned from fighting faster, more dangerous F-ranks.
The hog grew more desperate, its attacks wilder. Exactly what Eric wanted. He dodged another charge, this one even sloppier than the last, and drove his dagger into the base of the creature's skull.
The Razorback Hog crashed to the ground and went still.
Eric stood over it, panting, his ribs burning where the tusk had scored him. The wound wasn't deep, but it reminded him how much worse it could have been. One wrong move, one moment of carelessness, and he'd be the one lying dead on the forest floor.
**"Acceptable,"** the dragon said. **"You adapted well. But that was a freshly-evolved E-rank, barely stronger than an upper F-rank. True E-rank beasts will be significantly more dangerous."**
"I know," Eric gasped, already setting to work harvesting the valuable parts. "But I'm getting stronger too."
---
Not every day was spent hunting.
Some mornings, after his meditation, the dragon would call for a different kind of training. Eric would remain seated in his clearing, eyes closed, but instead of circulating qi, he practiced something far more subtle.
**"Your presence,"** the dragon explained, **"is the aura you project to the world. Right now, you broadcast your cultivation stage clearly to anyone with the ability to sense it. This is dangerous. As you grow stronger, you will attract predators—human ones, who will seek to rob you, kill you, or worse."**
"How do I hide it?" Eric asked.
**"It is not hiding, but suppressing. Imagine your qi as a candle flame. Now imagine enclosing that flame in thick glass. The light still exists, but it is contained, muted, invisible unless someone looks very closely."**
Eric practiced for hours, learning to contain his power, to present himself as weaker than he was. It was harder than any physical training, requiring a level of control and focus that made his head ache.
But slowly, gradually, he improved. By the end of the week, he could suppress his cultivation to appear as if he were still at Fifth Stage. Not perfect, but enough to avoid casual detection.
**"Remember this, Eric Chen,"** the dragon said, his tone grave. **"You must never reveal your true identity. Never let anyone sense my presence within you. If cultivators discover you are a dragon heir, you will be hunted. Some will seek to kill you out of fear. Others will try to capture you, to use you as a weapon or drain your power for themselves. The dragon heirs of old were feared and coveted in equal measure. Many died young, betrayed by those they trusted."**
"I understand," Eric said quietly. "I won't tell anyone. Not even my family."
**"Good. Trust is a luxury cultivators cannot afford."**
---
Eric was practicing forms in the dojo courtyard one afternoon—genuine training this time, not meditation—when Master Tobias approached. The old cultivator moved with the economical grace of someone who'd trained for decades, his presence commanding despite his age.
"Eric," he said. "A moment of your time?"
Eric's stomach tightened. "Of course, Master."
They walked to the edge of the courtyard, away from other students. Master Tobias was silent for several breaths, studying Eric with those sharp, weathered eyes.
"You've changed," the master finally said.
**"He is perceptive,"** the dragon warned. **"Be careful how you respond."**
"I've been training hard, Master," Eric said, which was true enough.
"That's not what I mean." Master Tobias crossed his arms. "I've observed you for five years, Eric. I've watched you struggle, fail, and persist despite having no progress to show for it. Then suddenly—" he snapped his fingers, "—in the span of two months, you leap from Third Stage to Seventh. You defeat Rorick Vaughn, who has been cultivating since he could walk and has access to resources you could never afford. Your technique is refined, your foundation solid, your movements..." He paused. "Your movements are those of someone who's fought for their life. Multiple times."
Eric's mouth went dry. He'd underestimated how carefully Master Tobias watched his students.
"I don't know what to tell you, Master," Eric said carefully. "About two months ago, I nearly died. A beast attacked me in the forest. I should have died—I felt myself dying. But something... changed. When I woke up, I felt different. Stronger. Like something inside me had awakened." He met his master's eyes. "I don't fully understand it myself. I just know I've been improving steadily ever since."
It was as close to the truth as he dared get. Master Tobias studied him for a long moment, and Eric forced himself not to look away, not to fidget, not to show any of the fear churning in his gut.
Finally, the master nodded slowly. "Awakening through trauma. It's rare, but not unheard of. Sometimes a brush with death can shock a cultivator's system, force meridians open that were previously blocked." He uncrossed his arms. "I'm glad you survived, Eric. And I'm glad you found your path."
**"He suspects there's more to the story,"** the dragon said, **"but he's choosing to accept your explanation. Wise of him. And wise of you to stay close to the truth."**
Master Tobias reached into his robe and withdrew a scroll, sealed with red wax. "I have something for you. I was saving this for a more advanced student, but I believe you've earned it."
Eric accepted the scroll with trembling hands. "Master, I can't—"
"You can, and you will." Master Tobias's stern expression softened slightly. "You have more potential than I initially believed, Eric Chen. I was wrong to tell you to quit cultivation. I see that now. This technique—" he gestured to the scroll, "—it's called the Iron Body Refinement Method. It's not flashy, but it's solid. It will give you a clear path forward through the later stages of Body Refinement and into Qi Condensation."
Eric bowed deeply, genuinely moved. Cultivation techniques weren't just rare—they were jealously guarded secrets, passed down through families or hoarded by sects. For Master Tobias to simply give him one was...
"Thank you, Master. I don't know what to say."
"Say you'll continue working hard. Say you'll represent Greenbrook well if you're selected for the Eastern Jade Sect." Master Tobias placed a hand on Eric's shoulder. "I believe you will be a great cultivator someday, Eric. Perhaps greater than any student I've trained. Don't prove me wrong."
With that, the old master walked away, leaving Eric standing alone in the courtyard, clutching the scroll like it was made of gold.
**"He suspects something is different about you,"** the dragon said once they were alone. **"But he's giving you a lifeline anyway. That scroll—it is a genuine technique, not a fake or incomplete version. Your master is more generous than most."**
Eric carefully broke the seal and unrolled the scroll. The text was dense, filled with diagrams of meridian pathways, qi circulation patterns, and body tempering exercises. It would take weeks just to fully understand it, months to begin implementing it properly.
But it was real. A legitimate cultivation technique, something he could follow, something that would complement the dragon's teachings rather than conflict with them.
That night, after his family had gone to sleep, Eric sat by candlelight and began studying the Iron Body Refinement Method. The dragon guided him through the more obscure passages, explained the theory behind certain techniques, and pointed out which exercises would synergize best with Eric's current foundation.
"This is good," Eric murmured, tracing one of the meridian diagrams with his finger. "This is really good."
**"It is adequate,"** the dragon corrected. **"For a village technique, it is well-constructed. It will serve you well through Body Refinement and provide a foundation for Qi Condensation. But remember—this is merely one tool among many. My guidance, your combat experience, the resources you acquire—all of these matter equally."**
"I understand."
**"Do you?"** The dragon's voice held a note of testing. **"You have progressed remarkably in two months, Eric Chen. But the path ahead grows steeper with every step. Qi Condensation will be more difficult than Body Refinement. Foundation Establishment harder still. And beyond that lie realms I cannot even begin to explain at your current level. The question is not whether you can continue—it is whether you have the will to endure what cultivation demands."**
Eric looked at the scroll, then at his hands—scarred from training, calloused from wielding his dagger, still sometimes trembling with remembered fear from fights that had nearly killed him.
"I have to," he said quietly. "For my family. For myself. I've tasted what it means to be strong, even just a little bit. I can't go back to being weak. Won't go back."
**"Good,"** the dragon said. **"Then rest tonight. Tomorrow, we begin incorporating this new technique into your training. And Eric?"**
"Yes?"
**"Master Tobias was right about one thing—you will be a great cultivator. But greatness is earned through blood, sweat, and unending perseverance. Never forget that."**
Eric carefully rolled up the scroll and tucked it safely into his sleeping area. Outside, the village slept peacefully, unaware that in this small, crooked house, a boy who'd once been their greatest failure was slowly becoming something far more dangerous.
The dragon's heir lay down to sleep, his mind already racing with plans for tomorrow's training.
The path of cultivation stretched endlessly ahead, treacherous and demanding.
But for the first time in his life, Eric Chen felt truly ready to walk it.