It was the crack of dawn at the Monastery Of The Quiet Palm, and its youngest monk sat in his usual seat within the prayer hall. The early morning light filtered through the thin bamboo screens, painting long lines across the stone floor, but Ren did not notice. He sat perfectly still, silently meditating, his mind drifting toward a single thought:
Soon, he would turn eleven.
And when he did, the Hogwarts Admission Letter would come.
In the past four years, Ren had transformed. After beginning martial arts, he had absorbed everything Elder Jingjun, the monastery, and even dusty scrolls in forgotten corners of the library could offer. He had started with the staff, every monk's foundational weapon, before moving on to swords, nun-chucks, spears, whips, and even the flexible chain weapons the older monks hesitated to give him. Every stance, every form, every principle of Shaolin martial philosophy had been taken apart, understood, internalized, and mastered.
It reached the point where the system itself decided that "Shaolin Martial Arts" was no longer a collection of techniques but a full-fledged skill.
But martial mastery was only the surface of what had changed.
Much deeper, in the depths of his being, the immense magic within his core had reshaped his life as a monk and warrior.
Across these four years, Ren had discovered—slowly, painstakingly, through meditation and endless trial—that magic was a profound, wonderful force. It could respond not only to spells and wands but also to intent, discipline, and enlightenment. And through that discovery, he had unlocked not one… but two Innate Magics.
The process of sensing magic had not been quick.
Nor was it easy.
Every night, Ren would sit in the prayer hall, legs crossed, hands resting on his lap, his breath smooth as water flowing over river stones. Before withdrawing into his heart sea, he would search, patiently, relentlessly, for even the faintest flicker of magic inside his body. At first he sensed nothing, no matter how deeply he reached. But Ren was Ren. He continued every single night without missing even one.
And eventually, his persistence bore fruit.
One night, just as he was about to sink into his heart sea, he felt it—a stray warmth, faint and fleeting, somewhere between his heart and abdomen, where the ribs ended. That tiny spark was gone in an instant, but it was enough. For the next month, Ren poured all his focus onto that region, seeking any repeat of that warmth. Day by day, breath by breath, he edged closer.
And finally, he found it. Not vaguely or briefly, but clearly.
A radiant golden sphere of power, a sun that did not exist physically yet pulsed unmistakably in the space above his belly, radiating vast pools of energy.
Once he found it, everything changed.
With awareness came control; intuitive, effortless control born of Eternal Zen and extraordinary willpower. Ren did not need a wand and spells to control magic the way normal wizards would. He could immediately direct his magic according to intent. And the first thing he did… was make it light up.
Watching golden motes swirl from his fingertips, lifting into the air like drifting fireflies, had been Ren's first true moment of wonder in this world.
But that was only the beginning.
One day, after a spar left him bruised and aching, instinct had guided him to draw magic inward. Without thinking, he had willed magic into his muscles, bones, and skin—and the pain simply melted away. That night, as he meditated, the realization dawned:
Magic could act just like the internal energy of Chinese legends; the energy that martial artists cultivated in ancient stories. In fact, he suspected that the immortals and cultivators in myths were nothing but ancient wizards.
And so, aided by Comprehension, iron will, and monk-like patience, Ren began shaping that insight.
He condensed a second core in his belly, where his Dantian would be - one not meant for spells, but for martial use. This core produced magical energy that behaved exactly like true internal force. It could heal wounds, reinforce his body, empower his strikes, increase speed, soften impacts, and provide countless other applications that martial artists in his previous world could only dream of. Ren then connected this internal-energy core to his main magical core so the two flowed into each other, allowing constant replenishment without effort.
But Ren was not done.
In another flash of inspiration, he constructed internal pathways across his body; meridians based on the ancient Chinese medical diagrams sitting in the monastery library. He refined the control of this energy into three parts: his will, for direct and precise manipulation; his instincts, so it flowed automatically with his movements in combat; and his breath, so it circulated continuously through the rhythms of Breath Of Life and Breath Of Battle.
This combination—core, meridians, will, instinct, breath—finally formed a complete system.
The system recognized it immediately. This ability was powerful, permanent, and passive. It was an Innate Magic.
Ren named it Qi.
But even after all that, Ren felt annoyance at having to consciously switch between Breath Of Life and Breath Of Battle. It was one extra thought during a fight - one extra distraction. So he merged the breathing arts into one, creating a unified, adaptive breathing method that automatically shifted to the most optimal state based on his needs.
He named this new breathing art Monk Breathing.
The second Innate Magic had been far easier to acquire. Many magical families, according to the system, had methods for it. It was simple - dangerous if done incorrectly, but simple in concept. Ren merely experimented, guiding magic directly into his eyes, connecting his magical core to them.
And it worked.
Eyes Of Truth allowed him to see magic itself—its flow, density, structure, even the lingering traces left behind by spells. His physical eyesight sharpened to an inhuman degree, letting him see clearly across long distances.
Thus, his status now read:
--
Host : Ren Alaric, Still Depths
Talents : Buddha Core, Eternal Zen, Comprehension, Battle God
Skills : Greater Sense, Mind Speed, Monk Breathing, Shaolin Martial Arts
Innate Magic : Qi, Eyes Of Truth
--
---
Far, far away from China, in the Scottish Highlands of northern Europe, hidden and protected by countless powerful charms and enchantments, stood a massive stone castle, with multiple towers, turrets, and battlements. This was Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft And Wizardry, and its Deputy Headmistress was hurrying down its long corridors to the Headmaster's office.
Minerva McGonagall had a thick, leather-bound, and extremely valuable tome in her hands as she said the password and went up the flight of stairs to Dumbledore's office. She pushed the door open without knocking to see the old man sitting on his chair reading muggle magazines and eating candy.
"Ah, Minerva, you've come at a good time. I was just sampling Honeydukes' new Engorging Eclairs. They just expand in your mouth like a balloon! Would you like some?", asked the strongest wizard of Britain as held up a tiny eclair in his fingers.
McGonagall frowned, and said, "I don't have time for this, Albus. I found something in next year's names in the Book Of Admittance."
Dumbledore sighed, saying, "I do not understand why you dislike candy so much, Minerva, that you bring up something important every time I offer you one. Alright, say it. What did you find?"
"It's about Edmund's child."
Dumbledore, understanding the seriousness of the situation, set down his bowl of eclairs and leaned forward, saying, "The life lamp of House Alaric has stayed lit in the Wizengamot for all these years, but despite our efforts, we haven't found the young heir. I have been waiting for the Book Of Admittance to state the child's location."
"It is a boy Albus, named Ren. And you'll understand his unique name when I tell you where he is right now."
"Where, Minerva? I'll go personally to deliver his letter, to tell him about our world, and about the heroes his parents have been. I presume he is somewhere in the muggle world?"
"In the muggle world, yes, but halfway across it. The boy is in Asia, Albus! And Merlin knows how he ended up there. Take a look at this."
She opened a page of the tome in her hands. On it, at the very top, was written:
Admitted -
Mr. Ren Edmund Alaric,
The Prayer Hall,
Monastery Of The Quiet Palm,
Mount Wutai, Shanxi Province,
Northern China.