Chương 26: I Believe This Violates the Natural Order

We find a larger clearing after an hour of walking; a natural amphitheater of grass surrounded by trees, the ground flat and clear. Ling'er stands in the center, and I settle on a fallen log with paper and brush, ready to document everything.

"Show me everything you learned from the tournament. Start with the water-wind combination from the Violet Sky boy." She nods, and then she moves. Water flows from her palm, condensed from the air itself, drawn from the humidity around us. Wind wraps around it instantly, shaping it into a spiraling stream that spins faster and faster. She directs it at a boulder twenty feet away, and when it hits, t he stone erodes. Sand and gravel spray outward, carving a groove into the rock's surface.

In seconds, she's cut a line six inches deep. I blink.

"That's not what he did."

"No." She releases the technique, and the water falls harmlessly to the grass.

"He used the combination for speed, for movement. Wind making water slippery so he could flow faster. But that's just one application." She grins, young and fierce and proud.

"The wind can also wrap around the water and spin it faster. Make it a spiral." She made a saw. From water and wind. She gestures at the boulder.

"Want to see it cut wood?" Before I can answer, she's moving again. This time she targets a nearby tree; a mature oak, its trunk a foot thick. The spiraling water-saw hits it, and wood chips explode outward. In seconds, the tree groans, tilts, and crashes to the ground with a thunderous impact. I try to hide the tremble in my legs. I keep my face calm. My hands steady. My voice level.

"Good. Very good." But inside, my legs are trembling. Not from fear of her, but from the sheer impossibility of what I'm witnessing. A twelve-year-old girl, cultivating for less than a month, just felled a tree with a technique she invented herself based on watching a tournament match. It is unbecoming of a sect leader to show fear in front of a child. Especially this child. So I don't. I write.

Technique Documented: Spiraling Water Saw Element: Water/Wind combination Stage: Qi Condensation Effect: High-speed water cutting, effective against stone and wood Note: Ling'er's adaptation, not original technique. Significantly more lethal than source material. Next: flame shield. She raises her hand, and fire blooms around her, e, forming a perfect sphere of flame that encloses her completely. Within it, she's untouched, the fire licking at the air inches from her skin without burning.

The heat is intense enough that I have to step back, shielding my face.

"Original version was just defense." Her voice carries clearly through the flames.

"A shell to protect against attacks. But I thought if I'm surrounded by fire, why not use it offensively?" She gestures, and spikes of flame shoot from the sphere in eight directions simultaneously. They don't just shoot randomly, each one targets something specific. A tree. A rock. A patch of grass. Precise, controlled, deliberate. I study the targets. The tree—chest height, center mass. The rock—where a head would be if someone crouched behind it. The grass—leg level, a sweeping attack. They're not random.

They're precisely targeting areas of a person's body. Had someone been standing in those positions, multiple vitals would be pierced simultaneously. Heart. Head. Femoral artery.' Scary.' The flames retract. Ling'er stands in the center of the sphere, untouched, smiling.

Technique Documented: Flame Sphere with Offensive Spikes Element: Fire Stage: Qi Condensation (adapted from Foundation-level observation) Effect: Defensive sphere with targeted flame attacks from multiple angles Note: Requires precise control and simultaneous multi-target awareness; Ling'er manages effortlessly Next: earth platform. She stomps, and the ground responds. It's not smooth like the Iron Peak elder's demonstration.

Instead, the earth rises beneath her feet in jagged steps, each one a rough platform of packed soil and stone. They lift her higher and higher, twenty feet up, until she stands on a column of her own making. She jumps down, lands lightly, and the platform crumbles behind her, returning to the earth it came from.

"Still working on that one." She brushes dirt from her robes.

"The elder made it look easy, but talking to earth is harder than it seems. It's stubborn. Doesn't like being told what to do." I nod sagely, as if I have any idea what "talking to earth" feels like.

"Progress takes time." Technique Documented: Rising Earth Steps Element: Earth Stage: Qi Condensation (simplified from Foundation-level) Effect: Creates temporary platforms for height advantage Note: Ling'er reports 70% proficiency; improving with each attempt Next: phoenix fire. She hesitates before this one, her hands lowering.

"Master... this might look different. The bloodline wants to change it. When I try to make a phoenix, it comes out... not right."

"Show me." I keep my voice calm.

"Let the bloodline do what it wants." She raises both hands. Fire erupts. Not the controlled sphere from before, but something wilder, more alive. It doesn't form a phoenix. Instead, it shapes itself into a dragon, a serpentine form of living flame with wings and claws and eyes that burn. It circles her three times, its heat so intense I feel it from thirty feet away. Then it launches. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

The dragon strikes a target tree thick as a barrel and incinerates it. One moment there's a tree. The next, there's ash and smoke and a crater where it stood. The dragon lingers in the air for a moment after, almost intelligent, almost aware. Its eyes seem to find mine. Then it dissolves into sparks. I feel it before I see it: a wave of heat so intense that the hairs on my face curl. I reach up, touch my eyebrows, and find them... shorter. Singed at the edges. Ling'er notices immediately. Her face goes pale.

"Master! Your—I'm so sorry—I didn't mean to—""It's fine." I cut her off, keeping my voice level despite the tingling on my face.

"They'll grow back." She's still apologizing, still horrified, still casting anxious glances at my eyebrows.

"For your penance," I say firmly, "twenty laps around the clearing. Now." She runs. I watch her go, suppressing a smile. The eyebrows are a small price to pay for witnessing that. Technique Documented: Dragon Flame Projection Element: Fire (bloodline-influenced) Stage: Qi Condensation (Foundation-level potential) Effect: Creates fire construct with limited autonomy and destructive capability Note: Ling'er's bloodline is adapting techniques to its nature automatically. Phoenix becomes dragon.

Expect more such adaptations. Next: instant freeze. She returns from her laps slightly breathless but composed, her earlier panic faded. I gesture for her to continue. She takes a breath, centers herself, and her hands go pale; not white, but cold, frost forming on her fingertips. She kneels and touches a small puddle left by morning dew. The water freezes instantly. Ice spreads in fractal patterns, beautiful and deadly, covering the entire puddle in less than a second.

"Like the Violet Sky elder, but smaller." She stands, examining her work.

"I don't have her cultivation base yet. But the principle works, remove heat all at once from a contained area. Right now, I can do this to about a bucket of water. Maybe a little more." She looks at me, calculating.

"When I'm Foundation, I'll do it to a room. When I'm Core, to a building. When I'm Nascent..." She trails off, imagining.

"When you're Nascent, you'll do it to a city." I finish the thought.

"But that's years away. Focus on the bucket for now." She nods, serious. Technique Documented: Flash Freeze Touch Element: Water/Ice Stage: Qi Condensation Effect: Instant freezing of small water volumes through rapid heat extraction Note: Scales with cultivation. Current limit: ~1 gallon. Foundation projection: ~room-sized. By evening, I've filled twenty pages with technique descriptions. Ling'er has demonstrated seventeen combat techniques, eight movement techniques, and five miscellaneous applications.

Each one adapted from tournament observation. Each one optimized by her impossible comprehension. Each one lethal in ways the originals weren't.

Technique Library - New Additions: Combat: Spiraling Water Saw (water/wind, cutting) Flame Sphere with Offensive Spikes (fire, defense/offense) Dragon Flame Projection (fire, autonomous construct) Flash Freeze Touch (ice, targeted freezing) Stone Fist (earth, projectile) Metal Needle (metal, piercing) Wood Entanglement (wood, control) Wind-Cloaked Dash (wind, movement/evasion) Five Elements Shield (all, defense) Flame Lash (fire, ranged) Ice Dagger (ice, melee) Earth Armor (earth, protection) Root Trap (wood, ambush) Movement: Rising Earth Steps (earth, vertical) Wind Steps (wind, speed) Water Glide (water, surface) Flame Burst (fire, acceleration) And more.

So much more. I set down my brush as the sun sets, my hand cramping, my mind reeling. Twenty pages. One afternoon. A twelve-year-old girl. As the sun sets, painting the clearing in shades of orange and purple, I push her harder than ever. Boulders to move. I find the largest rocks in the forest and set her to carrying them; uphill, then down, then in circles around the clearing. She doesn't question, doesn't hesitate. She just lifts and carries. Trees to uproot.

I point at the forest edge, and she finds bigger targets each time. The trees groan, roots tear, soil explodes as she wraps her arms around trunks and pulls. Golden light flickers beneath her skin with each effort, the dragon blood fueling muscles that shouldn't exist on a twelve-year-old frame. Sprints up steep slopes, carrying rocks. Up and down, up and down, until even I lose count. Push-ups with boulders on her back until her arms shake, then more. She doesn't stop when she trembles.

She keeps going, forcing her body to adapt, to grow, to become something more. She doesn't complain. Doesn't slow. Just does. I watch her move a boulder twice her size for the tenth time and shake my head. Normal training methods don't apply here. Normal limits don't exist. The moon rises, fat and silver, casting pale light across the clearing. We face each other on the grass, thirty feet apart.

"No holding back." I settle into a fighting stance, frozen palm technique ready.

"I'm Foundation Establishment. You're Qi Condensation. The gap is still huge. Use everything you learned today." She attacks. And she's faster than before. Stronger. Smarter. The body refinement paid off, her movements are sharper, more explosive. Her techniques flow together seamlessly, each one setting up the next. Water saw to force me back. I deflect it with a frozen palm, but the spray of water forces me to blink. When my vision clears, she's already moved.

Flame spikes from three directions, herding me away from the trees. I dodge left, and she's there, waiting, earth steps lifting her above me. She drops, striking where I would have been if I hadn't rolled aside. For five minutes, we fight. For five minutes, she pushes me. A ctually pushes me, forcing me to use real skill, real power, real techniques. I'm not holding back anymore. I can't afford to. Then she lands a hit. A flame spike catches my shoulder; just a touch of fire that singes my robe.

But she landed a hit. On a Foundation Establishment cultivator. After less than a month of training. And I could tell, in that moment, that she was holding back. The spike could have been harder. Could have pierced. Could have hurt. She pulled it at the last instant, adjusting her power to avoid injuring me. We both freeze.

"Master! I'm so sorry—" I laugh. Genuine, surprised laughter that echoes through the clearing. She stares at me like I've lost my mind.

"Again." I settle back into my stance.

"You landed a hit. Now land another." Her face shifts from concern to determination. She attacks again. We fight for another hour. She lands three more hits. I land none; she's too fast, too slippery, too aware of my movements. Every time I think I have her, she's already somewhere else, adapting, learning, improving in real-time. By midnight, we're both exhausted. I sit on a fallen log, breathing hard, my robes disheveled and singed.

She's across the clearing, glowing with satisfaction, her golden eyes slowly fading to brown. I pull out my notes and write by moonlight.

Sparring Assessment: Ling'er landed 4 hits on Foundation Establishment opponent Demonstrated seamless technique integration Showed ability to hold back and modulate power Evaded all counterattacks through superior perception Improvement rate during single session: visible She's already asleep by the time I finish writing, curled on a bed of moss, her small form rising and falling with peaceful breaths. I smile and return to my notes.