Chapter 5 - Breakthrough (Patreon)

His Qi flows smoothly in a cycle, sweeping through his body from his head to his toes. It has taken him longer than he is comfortable admitting to realise that the stupid scroll talking about the ‘celestial cycle of the sun and moon’ is basically telling him to move his Qi in a circle. 

It sounds blindingly obvious in hindsight, but he feels justified in saying that the scroll could have been a little clearer. 

He still isn’t entirely sure whether or not the metaphors and poems are actually useful or not – at first glance, it seems like the writers are just trying to make themselves sound cooler, but he really doesn’t know enough about cultivation or Qi as a whole to confidently say it is useless. 

Irritatingly, that means everything is taking way longer than it has to, as he has to at least try to meditate on the possible ramifications of the ‘natural cycle’, whatever that is. 

Despite his grouching, though, he has made at least some progress over the last year, even if it feels like he is trying to run a marathon while only ever taking baby-sized steps. 

In front of him, the bonfire crackles and pops, sending sparks into the sky. The heat should be scorching, considering how close he’s sitting, but even at the first stage of the Qi Condensation Realm, it’s merely uncomfortable. 

He takes a deep breath to settle himself before he closes his eyes and dives deeper into the focused state of mind required for this.

His Qi roils, churning uncomfortably for a second before he’s able to wrangle it back into a smooth circular motion. The technique he is using is the simplest he could find, and while there are some scrolls that talk about grand methods – such as sending Qi spiralling through each meridian counter-clockwise between every breath – this is unfortunately the only one he can get to actually work.

It’s enough to sustain him for now, to keep the flow of Qi steady and continuous. Each inhalation draws Qi into his dantian, and each exhalation pushes it through his meridians, reinforcing his muscles, bones, and organs. Even at his current age, he can feel the difference. 

He may only be eight years old, but he is as strong as the other teenagers in the village, and that’s at the first stage of the first realm. The difference will only grow as he matures both physically and advances in his cultivation.

There are downsides, of course. This particular method of cycling is apparently something of a ‘jack of all trades, master of none’ technique – it reinforces all aspects of the body equally. 

While technically a good thing, it also means the technique lacks potency – some of the other methods he has read about would let the user ‘leap a fully grown sequoia tree in a single bound’ or ‘run with the speed of a galloping horse’. 

By contrast, he’s just… slightly improved. In every way, granted, but it is a bit underwhelming.

Still, while this form of Qi reinforcement is basic, it is also essential. Without the boost it provides, he could apparently do some serious harm to himself by absorbing too much Qi at once. 

Who knew that drawing strange, barely understood energies into his body could be anything less than perfectly safe?

Fortunately, in his case, the fact that he’s working with such comparatively small amounts of Qi is a saving grace – most beginner cultivators use beast cores from slain spirit beasts to fuel their cultivation, which is a much more potent source of Qi. By comparison, his little bonfire barely even rates as a danger. Still, though it may be something of a jury-rigged solution, it is working.

With each breath, he feels the Qi gather from the ambient energy around him, drawn in by the heat and life of the fire. The flames seem to pulse in time with his breathing, a rhythmic dance that feeds his cultivation. He visualises the Qi as a glowing river, flowing in a perfect circle through his meridians. 

The process repeats, each breath drawing in more Qi, each cycle reinforcing his body a little more. His dantian begins to feel stretched as the energy packs into it, forcing it to expand ever so slightly. In a lot of ways it is similar to working out a muscle – stretch it just a little further than you thought you could, then let it recover.

He can feel a limit approaching, sense that if he tries pushing it further he risks causing some serious damage. He draws a breath, then pushes anyway. 

Nobody said cultivation is safe. 

He visualises the barrier in his dantian, imagining it as a thin, fragile membrane that could be breached with enough force. He draws in a final deep breath, feeling the Qi surge into his dantian, then exhales, pushing the energy through his meridians with all his strength. The barrier resists for a moment, then gives way with a sensation like a bubble popping.

The cycle of Qi he’s kept up for the last three hours flickers and destabilises, dissipating harmlessly in his dantian. Excess Qi bleeds off slowly, tiny motes of light that he hasn’t perfectly melded with his own well of energy drifting away as he relaxes his focus. 

When he opens his eyes, he realises he is covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and he is panting like he’s just run a marathon. At the same time, his dantian buzzes with energy, making him feel almost twitchy. It is an odd feeling.

Even still, he can feel the difference already. His body feels more robust, his senses sharper, and his mind clearer. He takes a moment to savour the sensation, feeling the newfound strength in his muscles and the heightened awareness of his surroundings. The bonfire seems brighter, the night air crisper, almost like the world itself has become more vivid.

He’s reached the Second Stage of the Qi Condensation Realm.

As gratifying as it is to achieve, and as much as he wants to bask in the accomplishment, he can’t help but turn his thoughts in a less positive direction. Building a bonfire has worked fairly well for him – it is a stable, easily accessible source of the fire Qi that matches his alignment. On paper, it is perfect.

He knows, however, that this method won’t be enough for his next breakthrough. The amount of Qi required for each subsequent stage will only increase, and the small bonfire won’t suffice. He can’t exactly burn down an entire forest to gather more Qi, even if it does cross his mind briefly as a ridiculous notion.

No, something has to change. Either he needs to find a better cycling method, get better at using his current method, or find a new source of Qi. The idea of using beast cores lingers in his thoughts; if he can find and kill a spirit beast, he could use its core to fuel his cultivation. The problem is that he’s never even gotten into so much as a fistfight - in either one of his lives. Challenging what is, as far as he can tell, some kind of mutated monster is all but suicide.

That’s assuming, of course, that Spirit Beasts aren’t even more dangerous than that. He is working off stories and old scrolls here – while they might mention a Spirit Beast using Qi to knock down walls or move faster than the eye can see, he has no way of knowing if it is accurate or just a tall tale. 

On the one hand, surely, if they were that dangerous, humanity would have never gotten off the ground. On the other hand, if those same scrolls are to be believed, humanity has some incredible powerhouses of its own. 

Not to mention that if he tries going for a beast and misjudges the situation, he probably won’t be getting a third chance at life.

No, he needs to learn more advanced techniques, ones that can harness the ambient Qi more efficiently. His current method, while stable, is far too basic; even in the somewhat limited selection of useful scrolls he has access to, it is clear that his cycling technique is only meant to work for as long as it takes for him to be taught a better one.

Alternatively, he could always seek out new scrolls, new sources of knowledge. The town in which he lives has a decent archive for its size, but he knows that a city would have far better access to information. 

Mind you, that’s easier said than done – for starters, travel here is significantly less advanced than in the twenty-first century. The nearest city is something like four days of travel away, not the kind of trip he can convince his mother to take him on based on a whim. 

Hell, he is going to have enough problems explaining away this latest excursion to the forest, let alone taking it further by suggesting he head off to the city. For all that he is mature for his age, he is still physically seven. His mother has a fair amount of patience for his shenanigans, but he figures that would be crossing a line.

The question has to be asked at some point as well – where is he going with this? Cultivation has started off as something of a curiosity – once he had started sensing Qi, obviously he would want to figure out what it could be used for. After that he’d stuck at it mostly because he needed something to stave off the mind-numbing boredom that was life as a child. Sure, there is the ‘cool’ factor of maybe one day being able to throw lightning and fireballs around, but…

When he really stops to think about it, what is the point of being able to throw lightning and fireballs around? 

Doing something for the sake of it is all well and good, and he actually enjoys the process of cultivating more than he thought he would, but what is he willing to give up to make it a reality? 

At the moment it doesn’t matter so much – he is still a child, he has nothing but free time. In the future though? In his last life he’d missed a lot of milestones due to his various illnesses – never had a girlfriend, never even gone on a date. He hadn’t travelled, hadn’t tried new things, nothing. Depressing is the only word for it.

And yet… despite that, he doesn’t particularly want those things anymore. He can’t imagine using his second chance at life to just… settle down and raise a few kids. Some people might find that rewarding and view it as a life well lived, but all he can think is what a waste.

There is an opportunity for power here. Real power. 

He stands up, brushing off the dirt from his clothes, the embers of the bonfire still glowing faintly in the dark. The air is cool against his skin, but the warmth from his breakthrough still radiates from within. He looks up at the sky, the stars twinkling like distant flames, and makes his decision.

Power. It is a word that carries so many connotations, so many responsibilities. In his previous life, he had been powerless, a victim of his own failing body. In this new life, he has been given a chance, a chance to seize power, to become something more than he ever could have imagined. The path of a cultivator might be fraught with danger, with sacrifices, but it is a path he is willing to walk.

He will become a cultivator, not just out of curiosity or boredom but out of a desire to grasp the power that has always been out of his reach. To protect himself, to protect those he cares about, and to carve out a place in this world where he can truly belong. The costs involved and the sacrifices he will have to make are all worth it if it means he can achieve something greater.

He sighs, turning and starting to walk back in the direction of the town. 

Before all of that, though, he has to convince his mother not to ground him for sneaking out again.