Chương 21: Chapter 13 Part 3

On the fifth day of their detour, the winding dirt paths led them deep into a quiet, ancient forest clearing, situated miles away from any established trade road. The carriage rolled to a halt in a place of profound, untouched tranquility. The clearing was incredibly peaceful, with beams of thick, golden sunlight filtering through the overlapping canopy in warm, dappled patches. The air was crisp and refreshingly cool, carrying the sharp, clean scent of damp moss, crushed pine needles, and undisturbed earth.

A small, crystal-clear stream bubbled cheerfully nearby, its rhythmic, watery melody incredibly soothing after days of enduring the relentless grind of carriage wheels and the suffocating noise of village crowds. To Evanthe, it finally felt genuinely safe here, completely hidden from the prying, dangerous eyes of the world. Ming Xuan Ji stepped down from the carriage, the pristine silk of her black-and-crimson hanfu catching the golden light.

She walked toward the center of the clearing, the fallen leaves making absolutely no sound beneath her soft boots. She turned to face her disciple.

"Ev," Xuan Ji said, using the new, short name with a natural, comforting ease.

"It's time we started your real training." Evanthe's heart pounded violently against her ribs, a chaotic mixture of deep-seated fear and sudden, burning excitement. She had been desperately waiting for this exact moment, and simultaneously dreading it, since the morning she woke up in the inn after her rescue. Her body still felt entirely foreign to her. The thick, corrupted power sitting heavy in her dantian was both a miraculous, life-saving gift and a horrifying curse that she completely failed to understand.

Ming Xuan Ji sat first, dropping into a simple, flawless cross-legged posture on the soft forest floor, her pale palms upturned and resting lightly on her knees. Evanthe mirrored her immediately, taking a seat opposite her master, desperately trying to match the oceanic calm and stillness her master radiated so effortlessly.

"First, you must intimately understand and get used to your new body," Xuan Ji explained, her voice steady, incredibly patient, and carrying a cadence that suggested she had all the time in the world.

"The awakening of the Heavenly Killing Star has fundamentally changed you. You're far stronger now than you were before the ritual, but that strength is feral, wild, and incredibly dangerous if left unchecked." Xuan Ji leaned forward slightly, her dark, abyssal eyes locking onto Evanthe's glowing red ones.

"To chain this beast, I am going to teach you the foundation of the Heavenly Demon Scripture," Xuan Ji declared, the name of the art carrying a heavy, ancient weight.

"It is not an easy path. Most people would struggle for years just to sense the basic flow of its Qi properly. But your constitution… the absolute devastation it is capable of… it might make the impossible possible. The scripture and your constitution could resonate in ways I don't fully understand yet. We will go slowly." The training was brutal from the very first moment. At first, nothing worked.

No matter how hard Evanthe tried to close her eyes, guide the Qi exactly as instructed, inhale the world's ambient energy, let it flow evenly through the meridians, and gather it in her core without forcing it, her body violently rejected the discipline. The thick, crimson energy in her dantian raged like a trapped, starving storm. It possessed a malevolent will of its own, born from the blood magic of the cult.

It scattered aggressively every single time she tried to touch it with her consciousness, sending sharp, agonizing pains radiating through her chest and leaving her gasping for air as if she had been punched. Sweat poured heavily down her pale face and back, completely soaking her gray traveler's robes. Her arms trembled violently from the sheer physical exertion of holding the meditative posture. Her head throbbed relentlessly with a dull, persistent ache that pulsed behind her eyes.

She felt exactly like she was trying to wrestle and tame a massive, wild beast with her bare hands, and the beast was effortlessly winning. Frustration and a deep, burning shame ignited inside her like battery acid. She had grown up watching her father and the knight captain of House Valerius wield their internal Qi with practiced grace and deadly precision, their control looking so elegant and effortless.

Yet here she was, the supposed bearer of a legendary constitution, barely able to keep the power inside her own body from literally tearing her apart. And Ming Xuan Ji… her master's presence felt exactly like standing barefoot at the edge of a vast, bottomless ocean. She was perfectly calm on the surface, but Evanthe could sense the crushing, unfathomable depths beneath that could swallow the entire world whole.

Compared to Xuan Ji, even the strongest, most veteran knights Evanthe had ever known felt like fragile children playing with wooden sticks. How was she ever supposed to live up to that? How was she supposed to become strong enough to matter in a world filled with such terrifying monsters?

"Again," Ming Xuan Ji commanded calmly. There was no hint of disappointment in her voice. Just a quiet, unyielding expectation. Hours passed in the grueling crucible of the clearing. The sun moved steadily across the sky, the golden patches of light shifting as shadows lengthened between the ancient trees. Evanthe's body screamed in violent protest. Her legs were entirely numb, her lower back ached with a deep, grinding fire, and hot tears of sheer frustration mixed freely with the cold sweat on her face.

At one particularly agonizing point, when a surge of blood-Qi lashed against her heart, she nearly broke down completely. The pain dragged her mind backward. She vividly remembered the gaunt cultist's manic laughter as he stood over the bodies of her family. The suffocating stench of the blood. The horrific, glowing runes of the ritual. The heavy iron chains biting deep into her skin. A wave of pure, unadulterated rage and bottomless grief surged through her chest like a tidal wave.

But this time, guided by the foundational breathing of the Heavenly Demon Scripture, she did not let the wave drown her. She rode it. She took that burning, black hatred for the cult and used it as an iron anvil. She slammed her willpower down onto the chaotic energy. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. With it, something fundamental shifted deep inside her core. A single, incredibly thin thread of the wild, crimson energy finally responded to her command.

It was rough, incredibly untamed, and still highly dangerous, but it moved exactly when she willed it to move. A faint but undeniably steady swirl began to form in her dantian, the chaotic, bloody storm finally settling into something she could almost physically grasp. The sharp, stabbing pain in her chest immediately eased. Her ragged breathing steadied into a smooth, rhythmic flow.

For the very first time since the slaughter, the terrifying power inside her felt like it actually belonged to her, instead of violently fighting her. Evanthe gasped, opening her glowing red eyes wide. Fresh tears streamed down her flushed face, but this time, they were born from profound relief and something significantly fiercer, a cold, hard determination that burned infinitely brighter than her fear. She had actually done it.

It was not perfectly refined, not completely subjugated, but she had taken the first real, undeniable step toward absolute control. Ming Xuan Ji smiled that small, incredibly private smile that never failed to make Evanthe feel profoundly seen.

"There it is," Xuan Ji praised her, her voice carrying a quiet, genuine warmth.

"Small success, Ev. That's all we need for today." Later, as the evening chill began to set in, they stood up and stretched their stiff, aching limbs in the fading light. Her master smoothly transitioned into demonstrating a simple, foundational unarmed stance. Xuan Ji's feet planted firmly into the earth, her hands relaxed but perfectly positioned, radiating a lethal, coiled readiness.

"I fight with my physical body and my Qi alone," Xuan Ji explained, her voice echoing softly in the clearing.

"But your Heavenly Killing Star constitution fundamentally leans toward weapon mastery. It is designed for slaughter, and it will adapt to any weapon you hold quickly, almost instinctively." Xuan Ji dropped the stance, adjusting her crimson sash.

"For now, we will focus exclusively on building a strong, unshakable foundation: absolute balance, internal control, and perfect breathing. Once we finally reach the capital, we will find proper, high-tier weapon masters for you. People who can teach you martial forms that match what your body wants to become." Evanthe nodded firmly, feeling a sudden, deep itch in her empty hands for the reassuring weight of a steel blade or a heavy staff. She desperately wanted to fight.

She wanted to become strong enough that no one could ever chain her to a stone floor again, that she could stand as an impenetrable wall between the cult and anyone else they tried to hurt. The dark power inside her was no longer just a horrifying curse. It was a weapon. Her weapon. From that pivotal day forward, Evanthe practiced relentlessly during every single break in their journey. She sat in deep meditation in the freezing mornings before the carriage even started moving.

She drilled basic, repetitive physical forms during their brief stops for water, her muscles memorizing the precise movements even as her mind constantly struggled to rein in the volatile energy. She engaged in grueling Qi circulation practice while the carriage rolled on, feeling the internal energy respond slightly better each time, learning to keep the flow steady even during the harsh bumps and turns of the road. She pushed her physical vessel harder than she ever had in her entire life.

She was entirely fueled by a profound, heavy gratitude for the second chance Xuan Ji had granted her, the crushing grief for everything she had lost, and a burning, singular desire for revenge against the Blood God Cult that simply refused to die.

Many days later, the landscape shifted dramatically, signaling the end of the sprawling wilderness. The dirt roads gave way to massive, meticulously paved avenues of white stone. By the time the majestic, impossibly tall spires of Elyndria finally appeared on the horizon, Evanthe could feel a very real, tangible change within herself. Her body no longer felt completely foreign or fragile.

The crimson energy in her core answered her call far more readily, even if it still possessed a sharp, wild edge that demanded constant, vigilant attention. She was significantly stronger. It was not enough, not yet. But it was enough to make her believe that she might actually become something more than a tragic victim. The imperial capital was breathtaking. Massive, gleaming white stone walls, soaring hundreds of feet into the air, shone brilliantly under the afternoon sun.

Above the city, a faint, iridescent dome of magical energy, the legendary Aegis Array, shimmered like soap bubbles against the blue sky, a testament to the staggering wealth and arcane might of the kingdom. Incredible towers and grand spires reached toward the sky like they were physically trying to touch the heavens, and the distant, thunderous roar of the grand coliseum echoed across the surrounding plains like a bloody promise of battles yet to come.

As the carriage joined the massive, crawling line of traffic approaching the main gates, Evanthe stared out the window in silent awe. Crowds of every conceivable race thronged the heavily guarded entry checkpoints. There were tall elves with graceful, aristocratic bearing; broad-shouldered dwarves with booming laughter and soot-stained hands; nimble beastkin with twitching ears, tails, and vibrant fur; and humans of every description, dressed in everything from filthy rags to spun gold.

The air itself was overwhelmingly dense, smelling sharply of roasted street food, unwashed horses, the ozone tang of ambient magic, and the crushing, suffocating weight of thousands of lives living right on top of each other. The carriage didn't stop at the common gates. Harlan flashed a wax-sealed document bearing the Vael crest, and the heavily armored royal guards immediately parted, waving them through a dedicated, less crowded archway.

As their carriage passed through the towering walls and smoothly entered the pristine, immaculate streets of the noble district, Evanthe sat straighter. Her black-dyed hair was safely hidden beneath her gray hood, and her glowing red eyes were bright with a fragile, entirely new hope mixed heavily with the old, familiar fear. The city was incomprehensibly huge. The cult's spies could be anywhere here, hidden among the millions. But so could vast opportunity. So could absolute strength.

She was no longer just the broken, weeping last daughter of House Valerius. She was Evanthe. The sole Disciple of Ming Xuan Ji. A survivor. And one day… she would become strong enough to make the monsters who destroyed her family pay in blood. She would make sure that no one else ever had to feel what she had felt. Ming Xuan Ji sat across from her, closing her leather-bound journal. The master glanced at her disciple with that faint, knowing smile that suggested she understood infinitely more than she let on.

"Welcome to Elyndria, Ev," Xuan Ji said softly, her voice calm amidst the roaring noise of the capital.

"Tomorrow, we begin the next stage." Evanthe met her master's abyssal eyes and nodded firmly. Her voice was strong, anchored, and perfectly steady for the very first time in what felt like forever.

"Yes, Master."