The gray pill dissolved like ash in Jasper’s gut.
At first nothing.
Then—heat.
A single thread of warmth uncoiled from his stomach, slow and stubborn, like someone dragging a hot wire through his veins.
It hit his ribs and stalled.
Jasper flinched.
His breath caught.
_This is wrong.
This hurts._
“Don’t fight it,” Leon’s voice cut through, calm, right in his ear even though Leon hadn’t moved.
“Let it flow. You fight it, you’ll tear yourself open. Inhale through your nose. Exhale through your mouth. Slow.”
Jasper obeyed.
Nose in, mouth out.
Nose in, mouth out.
The thread twitched… then slid upward.
Past his chest.
Into his shoulder.
Down his arm.
It wasn’t pain anymore.
It was _pressure_.
Like his body had been a closed pipe for seventeen years and someone just cracked the valve.
He could feel it now.
The air wasn’t just air.
It was _heavy_.
Loaded.
Every breath he took pulled more of it in, and the warmth tugged it toward that thread, feeding it.
Making it thicker.
Time stretched.
He didn’t know if it was thirty seconds or thirty minutes.
He just breathed.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
When Leon spoke again, his voice was lower.
“Fifteen minutes. Now take the bronze one.”
Jasper’s eyes stayed shut.
He fumbled the dull bronze pill into his mouth.
It tasted like iron and dust.
The moment it hit his stomach, the thread _locked_.
The wild, sluggish warmth stopped jerking and started to _cycle_.
Down to his gut, up his spine, back down.
A loop.
Stable.
Real.
The pressure eased.
The noise in his head faded.
For the first time in his life, the world felt… quiet.
But not empty.
He could _sense_ it now—the faint hum of the wards in the guildhouse walls, the residual heat from the incinerator down the hall, even Leon’s energy sitting across from him.
Dense.
Old.
Like a mountain pretending to be a man.
Jasper opened his eyes.
They didn’t glow.
He didn’t levitate.
He just sat there, breathing, and looked at Leon like he’d never seen him before.
“…I feel stronger,” he said quietly.
His voice sounded different to himself.
Clearer.
“Than I ever have. And I can… sense things. The air. The walls. You.”
He flexed his fingers.
A tiny adjustment, like learning to hear a new frequency.
Leon stared at him for two seconds.
Then he let out a half-chuckle.
Not a laugh.
Just air through his nose, tired and amused.
“Welcome to the world of cultivation, kid.”
A pause.
“You’re Rat Stage Level 1 now. Awakening. Don’t get cocky. You still move like a sack of bricks and you still smell like that tracksuit is carrying most of the weight.”
Jasper was about to get up, but Leon didn’t move.
“Don’t stand up,” Leon said before Jasper could.
“Don’t flex. Don’t test it. Don’t even think about punching the tree.”
Jasper froze mid-shoulder roll.
“…How’d you know I was gonna—”
“Because every idiot does it,” Leon cut in, deadpan.
“You’re Rat Stage Level 1. That’s it. You awakened your senses. That’s like learning the alphabet. You don’t write a novel five seconds later.”
Jasper blinked at him.
The warmth was still cycling in his gut, slow and steady now.
Every breath pulled more of that heavy Asteria air in and the thread drank it like a sponge.
“How long?” Jasper asked quietly.
Leon leaned back on his palms, looking up at the sky-scar.
“Stabilizing Level 1? For someone with your… lifestyle? Three days. Minimum. Maybe a week if your body keeps fighting it.”
“Three days?!” Jasper almost stood, then remembered and sat back down hard.
“Master Leon, I have jobs. The orphanage. Classes are out but rent isn’t.”
“Yeah, and you also have a 600-million-dollar donor watching you,” Leon said without looking at him.
“Your job for the next three days is this: sit here, breathe, and don’t die. That’s it. You’ll eat, you’ll sleep, you’ll shit, and you’ll breathe. That’s the whole training.”
Jasper deflated.
“That’s… boring.”
Leon smirked.
“Good. Boring means you’re not tearing your meridians. The bronze pill locked your cycle. Now your job is to let it settle. If you rush to Level 2 now, the energy will move too fast for your clogged channels and you’ll pop a blood vessel. And I am not cleaning up Jasper Stew twice.”
Jasper grimaced.
“Fair.”
Silence settled.
Just breathing.
In, out.
In, out.
After a while, Jasper noticed something.
The world wasn’t quieter anymore — it was _louder_, but in a different way.
He could hear the sap moving in the tree behind him.
Faint.
He could feel the heat difference between the patch of grass in sun vs shade without touching it.
Even his own heartbeat sounded… distinct.
Not just thump-thump.
Like it had layers.
“…This is Level 1?” he muttered.
“This is _stable_ Level 1,” Leon corrected.
“Right now you’re like a baby learning to hold its head up. Don’t try to run yet. Run later. When your head doesn’t wobble.”
Jasper nodded.
Then, after a beat: “…Master Leon?”
“Hm?”
“Thank you. For not letting me rush.”
Leon didn’t answer right away.
When he did, his voice was softer, no roasting.
“Your parents didn’t rush either. They survived Worlds 1 through 6 because they knew when to wait. You will too.”
He tossed Jasper a waterskin.
“Hydrate. The body burns through water when meridians open. Drink. Breathe. Sleep. Repeat. Three days. Then we talk about circulation.”
Jasper caught it, took a long drink.
The water tasted better than anything he’d had in years.
For the first time since lunch with Clarissa, he wasn’t trying to fix everything _now_.
Breathing.
Stabilizing.
Rat Stage.
Level 1.
Day 1.
Day 2 of stabilization.
Jasper was deep into breathing when the question broke through his focus.
He opened one eye, still cross-legged, tracksuit weighing him down.
“Master Leon?”
Leon didn’t open his eyes.
“Mm?”
“I’ve… read stuff. A lot,” Jasper said.
“Sword saints, demon lords, Dao hearts, Heartless methods, bloodlines…”
He paused.
“None of them mentioned ‘Beast Zodiac’. Rat, Ox, Tiger. So is this… different?”
Leon sighed and opened his eyes.
That tired look again.
“Different methods aren’t just different names, kid,” Leon said.
“They’re different _paths_. Completely different routes up the same mountain.”
Jasper frowned.
“Different paths?”
Leon nodded.
“Take Dao Heart cultivation. Those guys chase enlightenment, comprehension. They sit on mountains for 50 years thinking about a single leaf. Their path is the Dao. Comprehension → Insight → Dao Realm.”
He counted on his fingers.
“Heartless method? They carve emotions out. No fear, no love, no hesitation. Their path is severance. Cut → Empty → Void. Power comes from having nothing left to lose.”
“Bloodline Cultivation? They awaken what their ancestors left behind. Phoenix blood, Dragon blood. Their path is inheritance. Awaken → Purify → Manifest.”
Leon leaned forward.
“Sword Cultivation? They marry a sword. Every breath is a slash. Their path is intent. Intent → Will → Sword Dao.”
Jasper was listening hard now.
The warmth in his gut pulsed with each word.
“And us?” he asked quietly.
“Beast Zodiac,” Leon said.
“Our path is the twelve signs. Rat → Ox → Tiger → Rabbit → Dragon → Snake → Horse → Goat → Monkey → Rooster → Dog → Pig. Then Tiger Apex.”
He tapped Jasper’s chest.
“We don’t chase enlightenment. We don’t cut our hearts out. We don’t inherit blood. We build the body like the twelve beasts. Foundation of Rat. Stability of Pig. Speed of Horse. Strength of Ox. Each stage gives you what that beast is best at.”
Jasper stared at the thread of warmth cycling in him.
“So… we’re literally cultivating like animals?”
“We’re cultivating the _traits_ of animals,” Leon corrected.
“Rat survives anything. Pig endures everything. Rabbit sees death coming. Ox moves mountains. Beast Zodiac doesn’t give you flashy spells early. It gives you a body that won’t break when the flashy stuff hits you.”
Jasper was quiet for a long time.
Then: “…So my parents chose this path because—”
“Because they weren’t fighting for themselves,” Leon cut in, voice low.
“They were fighting for you. Dao Heart cultivators abandon people to chase the Dao. Heartless cultivators abandon people to feel nothing. Sword cultivators abandon people to chase the perfect cut.”
He tapped Jasper’s chest again, right over the warmth.
“Beast Zodiac cultivators? We build bodies that can carry people. Protect them. Rat carries food through winter. Pig carries the herd through drought. That’s why they chose it.”
Jasper looked down at his hands.
Steady.
Lighter.
“…Okay,” he said.
“No more novel logic. Beast Zodiac path. Twelve signs.”
Leon nodded, satisfied.
“Good.
Rat Stage, Level 1.
Foundation.
Jasper closed his eyes again.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
For the first time, the cultivation path actually made sense.
Not just power.
A path.