The morning was quiet. Vaelorian sat near the open window of his room, his eyes fixed on a small plant growing in a clay pot. Its delicate leaves moved gently whenever the breeze entered through the window, occasionally bending before returning to their original position. He had been observing it for several minutes, yet nothing appeared unusual. Still, he continued looking at it, wondering whether there was something beyond what his ordinary senses could perceive.
Recently, he had begun to realise that his attempts to perceive energy were limited by the way he approached them. He had spent too much time sitting in one position, closing his eyes and trying to sense something he barely understood. Perhaps he needed a different approach. Leaning forward, he placed his hand near the plant without touching it and slowly closed his eyes. He regulated his breathing, allowing the ordinary sounds of his surroundings to settle into the background. At first, there was nothing except the faint movement of air against his skin. However, after several minutes, a subtle impression appeared near his fingertips. It was so faint that he could barely distinguish it from the sensation of the breeze.
He opened his eyes and looked at the plant. Its leaves were still moving gently.
"Was that the energy... or just the wind?"
He withdrew his hand and waited, but the sensation did not return. Rather than forcing himself to repeat the experience, he picked up his notebook and recorded what he had noticed. The observation was incomplete, and he knew it might have been nothing more than an ordinary environmental sensation. Nevertheless, he wanted to keep track of even the smallest details.
The sensation may be connected to environmental movement. More observation is required.
He looked at the plant once more before closing his notebook.
"One step at a time."
Later that morning, Vaelorian decided to continue his practice outside. Instead of remaining seated, he wanted to test whether he could maintain his awareness while moving. He began with a slow walk around the surrounding area, paying attention to the ground beneath his feet, the movement of nearby leaves and the faint sounds of insects hidden among the grass. After several minutes, he gradually increased his pace. His breathing became heavier, and maintaining his concentration grew more difficult as his body began responding to the physical exertion.
He stopped beneath a tree and took a moment to recover. Then, without warning, something seemed to change in his perception. For a brief moment, the surroundings appeared to contain several overlapping impressions. They were weak and difficult to distinguish, yet they did not feel identical. His attention shifted towards the tree, then towards the ground beneath it, as though he had briefly noticed something that existed beyond their visible appearance. However, the moment he attempted to examine the impressions more closely, they disappeared.
Vaelorian frowned and tried again. He focused on the tree, then the grass, then the space surrounding his body. Nothing happened. He walked a little farther and repeated the exercise, but this time he noticed nothing unusual at all. Eventually, he sat beneath the tree and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
"Why is it so inconsistent?"
He looked at his hands. His physical body was still ordinary, and his muscles, bones and nervous system remained subject to the same limitations as any other human. Whatever he was attempting to understand, he could not afford to neglect the foundation he already possessed. After resting for a while, he stood up and resumed his physical training.
That afternoon, Vaelorian met his friend near their usual meeting place. His friend was already sitting there with a drink in his hand, looking somewhat impatient.
"You're late."
"Only by a few minutes."
"You always say that."
Vaelorian smiled and sat beside him. For a while, they discussed ordinary things, moving from their usual jokes to a conversation about their recent activities. However, their conversations had become slightly quieter whenever Sundar's name came up. Neither of them had forgotten his disappearance, and neither had received any reliable information about where he might be.
Eventually, his friend broke the silence.
"Have you heard anything?"
Vaelorian looked at him.
"About Sundar?"
His friend nodded.
"No. Nothing reliable."
"Same here."
They remained silent for a moment. Vaelorian looked towards the road, thinking about the places they used to visit together.
"I was thinking we should revisit some of the places he used to go. Maybe someone remembers seeing him recently, or perhaps he left something behind."
His friend considered the suggestion before nodding.
"Where do we start?"
"The old training ground. Then the shop near the market."
"Alright. We can go tomorrow."
Vaelorian nodded. They continued talking, but the conversation gradually shifted towards other subjects. For a while, they were simply two friends sitting together, trying to enjoy an ordinary afternoon despite the questions neither of them could answer.
Far from the settlement, within a concealed territory protected by ancient formations, representatives of several cultivation clans had gathered inside a vast stone hall. At its centre stood a circular formation diagram suspended above a raised platform. Fine lines of light moved across its surface, displaying the condition of several concealed routes connecting different territories. Several senior cultivators were examining the diagram while discussing the maintenance required to keep the passages stable.
"Three of the western passages require additional maintenance."
Another representative frowned.
"Those formations were repaired recently."
"Repaired, yes. Stabilised, no."
A quiet voice interrupted their discussion.
"Then the problem may not be the formations themselves."
Several people turned towards the speaker. A young man in dark robes stood near one of the pillars, his expression calm as he observed the formation diagram. His name was Lin Wuchen. He stepped forward and examined the illuminated lines more carefully before continuing.
"The energy distribution is uneven. If the formations had been damaged from outside, the disturbance would have a different pattern. This appears to be a problem with the flow between the connected points."
The elderly cultivator studied the diagram again, considering his observation.
"An interesting deduction."
Lin Wuchen simply nodded and stepped back. Nearby, another young cultivator had been listening to the discussion with growing impatience. Mo Tianyu folded his arms and glanced towards the representatives.
"Are we going to spend the entire gathering discussing damaged passages?"
A few people looked towards him. An older man standing beside him spoke in a quiet but disapproving tone.
"Control your impatience."
Mo Tianyu gave a faint smile.
"I am simply asking whether there is anything more important to discuss."
Across the hall, a young woman dressed in pale robes observed the exchange without participating. Her name was Yun Xian'er. Unlike Mo Tianyu, she showed little interest in the argument. Her attention remained fixed on the formation diagram, carefully following the movement of energy across its surface.
At the far end of the hall, an elderly cultivator had been watching the proceedings in silence. His name was Ye Cangming. He had listened to the discussion from the beginning, allowing the younger representatives to express their observations before finally speaking.
"The condition of these passages concerns every clan represented here. Their maintenance is not a minor matter."
The hall gradually became quiet.
"An unstable passage can endanger more than the people who use it. It can affect the formation network surrounding an entire territory."
No one interrupted him. Ye Cangming turned towards the suspended diagram and continued.
"Continue the inspection. We will discuss the remaining matters after the reports are complete."
The representatives returned to their discussions, and the gathering continued.
Far beyond the concealed territories, beneath the cover of a dark forest, several figures stood around a wounded cultivator. His robes were torn, and blood stained the ground beneath him. He struggled to move, but an invisible pressure kept his body pressed against the earth. The man standing before him wore dark crimson robes, with a strange pattern embroidered along the edges of his sleeves.
"Please..."
The wounded cultivator raised his head with difficulty, his voice trembling.
The crimson-robed man looked down at him without the slightest trace of sympathy.
"You entered our territory without permission."
"I didn't know..."
"That is irrelevant."
The injured man struggled to raise his hand.
The crimson-robed cultivator glanced towards the others. One of them immediately stepped forward and placed a hand above the injured man's chest. Dark energy began gathering around his palm, and the wounded cultivator's expression changed as he realised what was happening.
"Wait—!"
His voice was cut short. A faint red glow spread beneath his skin as the energy within his body began flowing towards the hand above his chest. His struggles gradually weakened, while the surrounding figures watched without concern.
One of them spoke.
"His blood essence is rather weak."
"Then don't waste time," the crimson-robed man replied.
The process continued until the wounded cultivator became motionless. The figure withdrew his hand, and a small amount of energy gathered around his fingers before disappearing into his body. He examined his palm briefly, showing no particular reaction.
"Dispose of the remains."
One of the others nodded. Nobody discussed what had happened. They simply continued through the forest, leaving the place behind as though nothing unusual had occurred.
That evening, Vaelorian returned to his room and placed three objects on his desk: a metal coin, a wooden block and a small glass container. He wanted to compare the impressions he experienced around different materials and determine whether there was any noticeable difference between them. Sitting comfortably, he began with the coin, holding his hand a short distance above its surface. Several minutes passed before he noticed a faint sensation near his fingertips. It was subtle, but he could distinguish it from the ordinary feeling of air against his skin.
He moved his hand away, and the sensation disappeared. Next, he tried the wooden block. He waited for several minutes, repeating the same process, but nothing happened. He moved on to the glass container. This time, he experienced something different. The impression was not stronger than the one he had noticed around the coin, but it seemed less consistent, appearing briefly before vanishing again.
Vaelorian opened his eyes and looked at the three objects.
"Why are the results different?"
He picked up the coin and turned it between his fingers. Perhaps the materials possessed different properties. Perhaps the distance between his hand and the objects mattered. Or perhaps his own concentration was changing without him noticing. He could not establish which explanation was correct, so he opened his notebook and recorded the observations.
Metal — faint impression.
Wood — no clear impression.
Glass — inconsistent impression.
No reliable conclusion.
He leaned back and looked at the page. His notebook was gradually filling with observations, but very few answers. He found that frustrating, especially because every new experiment seemed to produce another question rather than a clear result. Nevertheless, he understood that if he wanted to develop genuine control over his perception, he first needed to understand what he was perceiving. Trying to manipulate something he couldn't properly identify would be meaningless.
He closed the notebook and placed it beside the objects.
Before going to sleep, Vaelorian decided to attempt one final exercise. He sat comfortably, closed his eyes and began regulating his breathing. This time, he didn't focus on a particular object or try to detect energy in a specific direction. Instead, he attempted to remain aware of his surroundings as a whole: the room, the furniture, the space near the walls and the faint movement of air entering through the window.
Several minutes passed without anything unusual happening. He continued calmly, refusing to force his concentration. Eventually, a faint impression appeared near the corner of the room. It seemed to have a location, but he couldn't determine its shape or nature. He remained still, trying to maintain his awareness without disturbing the sensation.
For a few seconds, the impression became slightly clearer. Then it disappeared.
Vaelorian opened his eyes and looked towards the corner. It was empty. He examined the area for a while before lowering his gaze. There had been no sudden breakthrough, no dramatic change in his body and no new ability waiting to be discovered. It was simply another incomplete observation.
He reached for his notebook and recorded what had happened.
The impression appeared briefly near the corner of the room. It disappeared when I attempted to examine it more closely.
He paused before adding one final sentence.
Perhaps perception requires patience before control becomes possible.
He placed the notebook aside and lay down. The room gradually grew quiet as the night settled around him. Vaelorian closed his eyes, allowing his thoughts to fade.
He still had much to learn.
And for now, learning was enough.