The Eighth Birthday
Rayan's eighth birthday was a cheerful affair.
The Zu residence was decorated for the occasion, and the house was filled with the pleasant smell of freshly prepared food. Relatives and familiar faces came to offer their congratulations, while Ran arrived early enough to claim the best position near the sweets.
Rayan noticed this immediately.
"Ran, those are for everyone."
Ran looked at the plate.
Then she looked at him.
"I'm everyone."
Rayan stared at her.
An argument worthy of a royal court.
"Then everyone should leave some for everyone else."
Ran thought about that for a moment.
Then she carefully took one more sweet.
"Okay!"
Rayan watched her.
I have a terrible feeling that she interpreted my statement as permission to eat one more.
She probably had.
But it was his birthday, and he decided not to argue.
For once, he would be generous.
Besides, there were other things occupying his mind.
The scroll.
The ancient technique.
The possibility of discovering something new about his bloodline ability.
He had spent years training his body and improving his control over his shadow. He had also learned to read and write well enough to study the scroll properly.
Now, at last, he could begin.
During the celebration, Grandpa was in an especially good mood.
He praised Rayan's progress, told stories about the boy's early training, and occasionally reminded everyone that his grandson had summoned his shadow at an astonishingly young age.
Rayan had heard the story so many times that he could practically recite it himself.
Grandpa was halfway through another retelling when Rayan's father interrupted.
"Father, everyone has already heard this story."
Grandpa frowned.
"And? A good story deserves to be told again!"
"You're telling it for the third time today."
"Then everyone should be grateful that I'm providing such excellent entertainment!"
Rayan quietly leaned toward Ran.
"Do you think Grandpa has any other stories?"
Ran whispered back, "Maybe."
"Which ones?"
She thought for a moment.
"The one about the time he fell into the pond."
Rayan's eyes widened.
"Grandpa fell into a pond?"
Ran nodded.
"My mother told me."
Rayan slowly turned toward his grandfather.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Grandpa, who appeared to have excellent hearing whenever someone discussed him, immediately looked in their direction.
"What are you two whispering about?"
Rayan smiled innocently.
"Nothing, Grandpa."
Ran nodded.
"We were talking about the pond!"
The entire table went quiet.
Rayan slowly closed his eyes.
Ran.
My dear friend.
Why must you destroy every secret within a ten-mile radius?
Grandpa stared at her.
Then he cleared his throat.
"Ahem. That was a long time ago."
Grandma smiled sweetly.
"Would you like me to tell everyone what happened?"
Grandpa immediately shook his head.
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Very sure."
Rayan lowered his head, desperately trying not to laugh.
Grandpa pointed at him.
"And you! Don't think I haven't noticed you smiling!"
Rayan straightened.
"I'm smiling because it's my birthday."
Grandpa narrowed his eyes.
"Hmph."
Then, unable to remain serious for long, he began laughing.
The party continued.
The family ate together, exchanged stories, and celebrated Rayan's eighth birthday. His parents gave him gifts, Grandma fussed over whether he had eaten enough, and Ran followed him around with the determination of someone who had decided that a birthday boy was obligated to play with her.
Eventually, the celebration began to settle down.
Grandpa beckoned Rayan over.
"Come here, boy."
Rayan's heart immediately began beating faster.
It's time.
He approached his grandfather.
Grandpa placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled.
"Happy birthday, Rayan."
"Thank you, Grandpa."
"And as promised, I have something for you."
He brought out the ancient scroll.
Rayan stared at it.
Even after all these years, it still looked mysterious.
The aged material was carefully rolled and secured, and its surface bore the marks of something that had been preserved for generations.
Grandpa handed it to him.
"You've learned to read and write, and you've worked hard over the past few years. You may now begin studying this technique."
Rayan accepted the scroll with both hands.
For a moment, he didn't say anything.
Then he looked up.
"I won't disappoint you, Grandpa."
Grandpa's expression softened.
"I know you'll do your best. But remember what I told you. These techniques are difficult. Don't expect to master one just because you can read the instructions."
Rayan nodded.
"I understand."
Grandpa patted his head.
"Good. Study carefully, and come to me if you have questions."
Rayan held the scroll close to his chest.
Finally.
After five years of running, chopping wood, doing push-ups, and serving as an undead horse…
My reward has arrived.
He looked at the scroll.
Please contain something useful.
Preferably something that can carry heavy objects.
He gave Grandpa another respectful bow and hurried toward his room.
Behind him, Grandpa smiled.
The old man had high hopes for his grandson, but he also understood the difficulty of the four ancient techniques.
He hoped Rayan would succeed.
But if he struggled, Grandpa would remind him to be patient.
After all, some skills required years of study.
And this particular technique had confused many members of the Zu family.
It was not something a child could be expected to master overnight.
At least, that was what Grandpa believed.
He had no idea what was about to happen.
The Secret Inside the Scroll
Rayan closed the door to his room.
He checked that nobody was standing outside.
Then he placed the scroll carefully on his desk.
He sat down.
Took a deep breath.
And slowly unrolled it.
The ancient writing appeared before him.
For a few moments, he simply stared at the first line.
Then he began reading.
The scroll described a technique that allowed the user to store objects inside their own shadow.
Rayan blinked.
He read the line again.
Then he read the next one.
Then the next.
His expression gradually changed.
Wait.
Storage?
He leaned closer to the scroll.
The technique was surprisingly practical.
A detached shadow was not merely a black figure that could move independently. When returned to its owner, the shadow could also serve as a space in which objects could be stored.
The space itself had no known practical limit.
However, there were important restrictions.
First, the shadow had to be inside the user's own shadow. The technique could not be activated while the shadow was detached and walking around independently.
Second, the user needed to sense the existence of their own shadow while it remained connected to them.
Third, the user had to give the shadow a clear mental command describing what they wanted to store or retrieve.
Fourth, living beings could not be stored inside the shadow.
And finally, although the storage space had no known limit, the user would still feel the actual weight of whatever they stored.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Rayan leaned back.
For a few seconds, he said nothing.
Then he slowly looked toward the chair beside his desk.
An infinite storage space?
He looked back at the scroll.
With no limit on volume?
He considered the possibilities.
He could store tools.
Books.
Food.
Clothes.
Wood.
He could carry supplies without needing a bag.
He could organize his belongings and retrieve them whenever necessary.
He could potentially make travel much easier.
And, most importantly—
I could store the wood without having to pile it onto a carriage!
Rayan's eyes sparkled.
He almost stood up and cheered.
Then he remembered the last part of the technique.
He would still feel the actual weight of the stored objects.
His excitement dimmed slightly.
So I can't store a mountain of rocks and pretend they weigh nothing.
He thought about it.
Still, storage is storage.
Even if the weight remained, the ability would be incredibly useful.
He could carry objects in a compact space rather than having them physically occupy his hands or a bag.
And there was no need to carry the weight of the storage container itself.
That was already a considerable advantage.
Rayan looked at the scroll again.
The instructions seemed straightforward.
The user needed to turn their attention inward, sense their own shadow while it remained connected to them, and then give it a command.
No elaborate ritual.
No special equipment.
No complicated sequence of gestures.
Just perception and control.
Rayan frowned.
Grandpa said these techniques were difficult.
He reread the instructions.
Then he reread them again.
Perhaps the difficulty lies in sensing the shadow.
He looked down at the floor.
His shadow rested beneath him, connected to his feet.
Rayan had been controlling it for years.
He had learned to summon it, command it, and return it to its original position.
He had also become accustomed to the connection between himself and the shadow.
But had he ever truly sensed the shadow itself?
He wasn't certain.
Well, there's only one way to find out.
He placed the scroll aside.
Then he turned his attention inward.
He closed his eyes and focused on the connection between himself and the shadow.
At first, he noticed nothing unusual.
He could feel his body.
He could feel the position of his feet against the floor.
He could feel the familiar awareness associated with his mental energy.
But the shadow?
That was different.
He tried to separate the sensations.
The mental energy was something he used to control the ability.
The shadow itself was something else.
He had never deliberately distinguished between the two.
He focused again.
And suddenly—
There it was.
A faint but unmistakable sense of something connected to him.
It was not a physical sensation.
It was more like awareness of a second presence that belonged to him, resting beneath his body.
His eyes opened.
He looked down at the floor.
His shadow was still there.
Rayan smiled.
Found you.
He followed the instructions carefully.
He concentrated on the shadow's existence, then gave it a simple mental command.
Store the chair beside my desk.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the chair vanished.
Rayan froze.
He stared at the empty space beside his desk.
Then he looked at the floor.
His shadow remained exactly where it had been.
There was no hole.
No flash of light.
No dramatic sound.
The chair had simply disappeared.
Rayan slowly turned toward the scroll.
…It worked?
He looked at the empty space again.
Then he tried to retrieve the chair.
He focused on his shadow and gave the command.
Bring the chair back.
The chair appeared beside the desk.
Rayan stared at it.
He touched the backrest.
He pushed it slightly.
He checked its legs.
It was the same chair.
Nothing appeared to have changed.
He looked at the floor.
His shadow remained connected to him.
Then he looked at the chair again.
A grin spread across his face.
"I did it!"
He immediately covered his mouth.
Quiet! Someone will hear you!
He waited.
No footsteps approached.
No one knocked on the door.
Rayan slowly lowered his hand.
Then he looked at the chair.
And laughed.
I actually did it!
He had expected to spend days, perhaps weeks, trying to understand the technique.
Instead, he had succeeded on his first serious attempt.
He could store objects inside his shadow.
He could retrieve them at will.
And the space had no known practical limit.
He sat down on the chair, then immediately stood up again.
Wait. If I store the chair while I'm sitting on it, what happens?
He considered the experiment.
Then he rejected it.
No.
I'm not risking my dignity for science.
He looked at the scroll again.
There was still one question bothering him.
Why had the technique been so easy?
Grandpa had warned him repeatedly that the four ancient techniques were difficult to master.
He had said even talented people struggled with them.
He had mastered only two.
Father had mastered none.
Yet Rayan had just learned the storage technique in a few minutes.
He wasn't foolish enough to assume the other three techniques would be equally simple.
Perhaps this one suited him particularly well.
Perhaps years of practising his shadow ability had made the necessary control feel natural.
Or perhaps he had misunderstood something important.
Rayan picked up the scroll and reread the relevant passage.
The user must first sense the existence of the shadow while it remains within the user's own shadow.
He paused.
Then his eyes widened slightly.
Wait a minute.
He remembered his grandfather's first lesson.
Grandpa had repeatedly told him to focus on the feeling associated with summoning his shadow.
At the time, Rayan had interpreted that as learning to recognize the mental energy required to separate it from himself.
He had become very familiar with that sensation.
But he had never consciously distinguished it from the shadow's existence.
He had been feeling the energy used to control the ability, not deliberately sensing the shadow itself.
Or so he had thought.
Perhaps the problem was never that I couldn't sense it.
Perhaps I simply didn't know what I was supposed to be sensing.
He looked down at his shadow again.
Now that he understood the distinction, the connection seemed surprisingly obvious.
The shadow was not merely a dark shape on the ground.
It was a part of his bloodline ability, connected to him in a way he could perceive if he paid attention.
And because he had already spent years practising the ability, the foundation was there.
He had simply needed the correct explanation.
Rayan slowly nodded.
That makes sense.
Then another thought struck him.
Does this mean Grandpa's instructions were incomplete?
He immediately shook his head.
No.
That wasn't necessarily true.
His grandfather had been teaching him the basic ability, not this particular technique.
And perhaps other members of the family had struggled because they found it difficult to distinguish between mental energy and the shadow's presence.
Rayan couldn't know for certain.
Still, he had discovered something useful.
Understanding what a technique required was sometimes more important than simply trying harder.
All right.
Time to return the scroll.
He rolled it carefully and stood up.
Then he paused.
He looked at the chair.
A wicked smile spread across his face.
Actually…
He focused on his shadow.
The chair vanished.
He retrieved it.
The chair appeared.
He stored it again.
Then retrieved it once more.
He repeated the process several times, partly to make sure he could do it consistently and partly because watching a chair disappear and reappear was surprisingly entertaining.
By the fifth attempt, he was satisfied.
The technique worked reliably.
He rolled up the scroll, tucked it securely under his arm, and headed toward Grandpa's study.
He was about to deliver some very unexpected news.
Grandpa's Unbelieving Eyes
Grandpa was in his study when Rayan arrived.
The old man was examining some documents when he heard a knock.
"Come in."
The door opened.
Rayan stepped inside, holding the scroll.
Grandpa looked up.
Then he glanced at the scroll.
His expression softened.
"Rayan? Is something wrong?"
Rayan shook his head.
"No, Grandpa."
Grandpa put down his documents.
"Then why are you here? Have you encountered a problem with the technique?"
Rayan hesitated for a moment.
Then he answered honestly.
"No. I came to return the scroll."
Grandpa blinked.
"Return it?"
Rayan nodded.
"Yes."
For a few seconds, the old man simply stared at him.
Then he sighed.
"Rayan, listen to me carefully."
He leaned forward.
"These techniques are difficult. I told you that before you began studying the scroll. If you don't understand the instructions, there's no need to rush. You can take your time."
Rayan shook his head.
"I understand, Grandpa."
"Good. Then keep studying it. You don't need to return it just because you haven't mastered it yet."
"But I have mastered it."
Silence.
Grandpa stared at him.
Rayan stared back.
Then Grandpa slowly placed both hands on the desk.
"Rayan."
"Yes?"
"If you don't want to study the technique anymore, that's one thing."
Rayan blinked.
"But—"
"However, lying is something I will not tolerate."
Grandpa's voice was firm.
"You are talented, and I'm proud of you. But that doesn't mean you should claim to have mastered something you haven't learned. Do you understand?"
Rayan's mouth fell open.
What?
Grandpa, I'm telling the truth!
He quickly shook his head.
"I'm not lying!"
Grandpa's expression remained stern.
"Then explain what you've learned."
Rayan took a breath.
"I learned how to store objects inside my shadow and retrieve them."
Grandpa frowned.
"That's what the scroll teaches. But understanding the instructions and mastering the technique are two different things."
"I know."
"Then how can you say you've mastered it?"
Rayan considered his options.
He could try to explain the entire process.
He could describe the difference between sensing his mental energy and sensing the existence of his shadow.
He could offer a detailed account of how he had understood the technique.
But that would take time.
And Grandpa clearly wasn't going to believe him without proof.
So Rayan chose the simplest approach.
He placed the scroll on the desk.
Then he turned toward the empty space beside the wall.
He focused on his shadow.
Retrieve the chair.
A chair appeared out of nowhere.
It landed neatly on the floor.
Rayan pointed at it.
"See? I'm not lying."
Grandpa froze.
His eyes widened.
For several seconds, he didn't move.
He looked at the chair.
Then at Rayan.
Then at the chair again.
Finally, he stood up so abruptly that his chair scraped against the floor.
"Y-You…"
Rayan tilted his head.
"Yes?"
Grandpa pointed at the chair.
"Did you just retrieve that from your shadow?"
Rayan nodded.
"Yes."
Rayan blinked.
"All right."
He focused on his shadow.
The chair vanished.
Grandpa stared at the empty floor.
Then he looked at Rayan.
"Bring it back!"
Rayan retrieved the chair again.
It appeared in exactly the same place.
Grandpa slowly approached it.
He circled it once.
He bent down to examine the legs.
He touched the seat.
Then he looked at Rayan as though he were seeing his grandson for the first time.
"You really learned it?"
Rayan nodded.
"Yes, Grandpa."
Grandpa opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Then opened it again.
"You really… learned it?"
Rayan sighed.
"Grandpa, I already answered that question."
The old man ignored him.
He looked at the chair once more.
Then he burst out laughing.
"Hahahahaha!"
Rayan flinched.
Oh, no.
The legendary volume has returned.
Grandpa grabbed Rayan by the shoulders.
"You actually learned it! You mastered one of the four ancient techniques!"
He lifted Rayan into the air and laughed so loudly that someone outside the study called out to ask whether everything was all right.
Grandpa didn't answer.
He was too busy celebrating.
"My grandson has mastered one of the ancient techniques!"
Rayan dangled helplessly in his grip.
"Grandpa, please put me down!"
"You're a genius!"
"I'm also getting dizzy!"
Grandpa finally lowered him to the floor.
Then he crouched in front of him, still wearing an expression of disbelief.
"Tell me exactly how you did it."
Rayan explained the process as clearly as he could.
He described how he had read the instructions, focused on the connection between himself and his shadow, and realized that he needed to sense the shadow itself rather than merely concentrate on the mental energy used to control it.
He explained how he had issued the command to store the chair and then retrieved it.
Grandpa listened without interrupting.
By the time Rayan finished, the old man's expression had become thoughtful.
He turned toward the chair.
Then he looked at the scroll.
Then he looked at Rayan again.
"You understood the key requirement immediately?"
Rayan shrugged.
"Once I knew what to look for, it wasn't that difficult."
Grandpa stared at him.
Once I knew what to look for?
The old man felt a strange mixture of pride, astonishment, and disbelief.
He had expected Rayan to struggle.
He had expected the boy to spend days studying the instructions, perhaps weeks trying to understand the technique.
Instead, Rayan had taken the scroll, gone to his room, and returned shortly afterward with the technique mastered.
Grandpa had studied these ancient techniques for decades.
He had seen talented members of the family struggle with them.
He had watched his own son fail to master even one.
And now his eight-year-old grandson had succeeded with what appeared to be ridiculous ease.
Grandpa slowly sat down.
Then he looked up at Rayan.
"Rayan."
"Yes, Grandpa?"
"Do you understand what you've accomplished?"
Rayan thought for a moment.
"I can store things in my shadow."
Grandpa's mouth twitched.
"Yes. That's the technique."
"Then I suppose I understand."
Grandpa covered his face with one hand.
This boy…
He didn't know whether to laugh or sigh.
Finally, he lowered his hand and smiled.
"Well done, Rayan. Truly. You've done something remarkable."
Rayan's expression brightened.
"Thank you, Grandpa!"
The old man patted his head.
"However, don't become careless. Just because you've mastered one technique doesn't mean the others will be easy."
Rayan nodded.
"I understand."
Grandpa's expression became serious.
"Keep practising what you've learned. Make sure you understand its limitations. And don't go showing it off to everyone without thinking."
Rayan immediately understood the importance of that warning.
A storage technique could be extremely useful.
It could also attract unwanted attention if too many people learned that he possessed it.
He nodded again.
"I won't tell everyone."
Grandpa smiled.
"Good."
Then he glanced at the chair.
"Now, tell me something. How much weight can you store?"
Rayan blinked.
"I don't know yet."
"Have you tested it?"
"Only with the chair."
Grandpa's eyes brightened.
"Then we should test it carefully!"
Rayan's smile vanished.
Oh, no.
He knew that expression.
He had seen it before every new stage of training.
Grandpa was about to turn a simple experiment into an exhausting lesson.
"Grandpa," Rayan said cautiously, "perhaps we should test it another day."
"Why?"
"Because it's my birthday."
Grandpa paused.
Then he laughed.
"Hahahaha! All right, all right. We'll begin tomorrow."
Rayan breathed a sigh of relief.
Saved by my birthday.
He turned toward the chair.
Then he remembered something important.
The technique stored objects inside his shadow, but he still felt their real weight.
He had successfully stored and retrieved the chair, but he had not yet tested how much weight he could comfortably carry.
That would require careful experimentation.
He would need to begin with small objects and gradually work his way up.
There was no point in storing something so heavy that he could barely move afterward.
Still, the possibilities are incredible.
He could carry books without filling a bag.
He could store tools for his training.
He could transport small supplies without needing to hold them.
And perhaps, with practice, he could store enough useful items to make his journeys much easier.
He glanced at Grandpa.
"Grandpa?"
"Hmm?"
"Does this mean I can store the wood we bring back from the forest?"
Grandpa stared at him.
For a moment, he seemed unable to decide whether to laugh or scold him.
Then he burst out laughing.
"Hahahahaha! So that's what you're thinking about!"
Rayan looked perfectly serious.
"Of course. It's very practical."
Grandpa shook his head.
"You're unbelievable."
Rayan smiled.
Thank you. I work hard at it.
A Secret Worth Keeping
After leaving Grandpa's study, Rayan returned to his room.
He placed the scroll safely on his desk.
Then he looked down at his shadow.
He focused on the connection he had learned to sense.
The storage technique was no longer mysterious.
It was something he could use deliberately.
He picked up a small wooden toy from his shelf.
Store.
The toy vanished.
Retrieve.
It reappeared in his hand.
Rayan smiled.
He repeated the process with a book, a small cushion, and a wooden box.
Each object disappeared into his shadow and returned when he called for it.
The technique worked consistently.
Of course, he still needed to test its limitations.
He needed to learn how weight affected him over time, how quickly he could retrieve objects, and whether different materials behaved differently.
He also needed to be careful not to lose track of what he stored.
An infinite storage space sounded wonderful.
An infinite storage space full of random junk sounded like a problem.
I'll need an inventory.
He paused.
Wait. Can I make a written inventory and store it inside the shadow too?
He looked at his desk.
Then at the book in his hand.
A grin spread across his face.
This technique is amazing.
He began making plans.
He would keep his important supplies organized.
He would test the limits of the storage ability.
He would practise retrieving objects quickly.
And he would avoid carrying unnecessary weight whenever possible.
Most importantly, he would keep the technique relatively private until he understood it better.
Grandpa had warned him for a reason.
The Zu family had guarded its ancient techniques for generations. Even if Rayan had mastered one, that did not mean everyone needed to know about it immediately.
Besides, keeping secrets was sometimes useful.
Especially when the secret could make an eight-year-old look far more capable than he actually was.
Rayan glanced toward the window.
The afternoon sun was shining over the courtyard.
He could hear his family talking outside.
Somewhere nearby, Ran was probably looking for him.
He smiled.
For the first time in years, he felt as though he had taken a meaningful step toward his ambitions.
He had a bloodline ability.
He had mastered an ancient technique.
He had a loving family.
And he had a world full of mysteries waiting to be explored.
There were still questions about his reincarnation.
There were still five kingdoms, rival groups, and powers he barely understood.
And there were still three ancient techniques waiting for him.
But those could wait.
For now, Rayan had earned a moment of satisfaction.
He looked down at his shadow one last time.
"Well done," he whispered.
His shadow remained still beneath him.
Rayan nodded.
"Don't worry. I'll find plenty of work for you."
He paused.
Then he corrected himself.
"Plenty of important duties."
Because if there was one thing Rayan had learned over the past five years, it was that the future belonged to those who prepared carefully.
And if he could make his shadow carry his belongings, retrieve his supplies, and eventually help with his daily chores, then he was going to take full advantage of it.
After all, becoming powerful was important.
But becoming powerful without having to carry everything by hand?
That was a truly worthy ambition.