Unfortunately, making his way back up the ravine was far more difficult than his chosen method of falling down.

Sure, he’d climbed his fair share of walls and cliffs in his adventuring days, but he also never had to deal with continuous stretches of near-vertical inclines. It was only through generous usage of Flash Step and the associated build-up of Soulburn from the Third Level spell that he’d made his way from foothold to foothold, scaling up the cliff-face back to the flatlands that marked the border of the state of Wu.

“Nice one!” Quanhao praised, as Sylar reappeared with a rush of air from where he had been ten metres away. Though his words were well-intentioned, the fact that Quanhao had breezed his way up the wall made them seem almost mocking. “Come on! We’ve got to share the good news with everyone!”

Quanhao waved him along, pointing toward where the others were already assembled.

Well, then. Here he had been, thinking that he and Quanhao might have had at least some chance of putting up a decent competition. From the look of annoyance that Yang Xingling was giving him, it was clear that they had been waiting for them to finish up.

Evidently, though self-satisfied at having uncovered yet another piece of the grand puzzle that was cultivation, when put into perspective he definitely still had quite some ways to go. His expertise with spells was far superior to theirs, sure, but in matters of physical endurance or martial combat he still left much to be desired. The battle with the Demonic Beasts themselves had ended fairly quickly – but the journey there and back had taken much more time, since he couldn’t manoeuvre around the chasms as agilely as they did.

Then, to his surprise, Xingling’s brows furrowed. Elder Hua, however, was the first to speak.

“Huh.” Elder Hua cocked her head to one side, seeming as though to measure his worth for the first time. Then, she shrugged. “Well, guess there might have been some truth to Elder Yang’s words after all. Congratulations, I suppose. At least you finally start to make some semblance of sense.”

“You’ve broken through to the First Comprehension?” Guanzhong asked, a tinge of amazement colouring his otherwise measured tone. His robes were ruffled and littered with dirt and soot, a sign of the battle that he had undergone alongside Liu Yao. “That… how?”

Before Sylar could answer, Quanhao interrupted. “You weren’t kidding, boss,” he said, grinning widely, still caught up in the rush of battle. “Now I get why Elder Yang arranged for the bout between you two. Xingling, Yao, Shurui – you three should have seen what he did against those beasts! He used Spiritual Arts I’ve never seen before; and so many of them!” He turned toward Sylar. “Hey, show them again, won’t you? I know they’d love to see them!”

“Not now, I’m afraid. I’m about close to my limit,” Sylar spoke up, finally having the chance to get a word in. “Maybe next time.”

Those last couple of spells had been about to stretch his Soulburn capacity, and coupled with the repeated usage of Flash Step, he hadn’t yet had the chance to vent it away. A few more spells were all he could pull off at present, and he still needed to cast a Phantom Steed lest he wanted a piggy-back ride back to Penshan.

Xingling still glared at him, but rather than a look of annoyance, there was a sense of intent contemplation. Perhaps achieving the First Comprehension in the manner that he did was quite a feat, but considering the circumstances, Sylar privately wondered whether it was more embarrassingly amazing that he – and the entirety of the mage community of Resham – hadn’t reached the stage that all cultivators here considered to be mere initiation into the art.

From what he gathered, the crux of this first bottleneck lay in gathering Essence, and in tapping upon the energy released as it turned into Soulburn. Once sufficiently built up, it forced open a network of ‘channels’ that he still knew little about, save for the vague awareness of its presence ever since the events that had taken place near the end of the battle earlier. So long as one got the hang of knowing just how to pool that phantom energy that he still barely understood, the major limiting factors from then on in achieving this first stage would be the rate by which one could draw in the appropriate Essences, and how much Soulburn one could hold and dissipate over the course of practice.

Both were subjects that Sylar knew well, having been exposed to Essence Studies since the beginnings of his apprenticeship to Master Rynwald more than a dozen years ago. Were he truly starting off on the same foot as the initiates among the ranks of the Righteous Heart Sect, perhaps his feat might truly be seen as a miraculous anomaly, but putting his circumstances into account, a week seemed like a reasonable span of time. He knew that Qiyu, for instance, was still struggling to draw and activate the equivalent of a Zeroth Level spell every fifteen or so minutes, while he could indefinitely chain together such spells with ease.

He didn’t quite feel like performing the mental calculations, knackered as he was – but comparing the ratios of the rates in which they could draw and burn Essence between them, it seemed to fit the notion that a neophyte’s years of training could be condensed into the span of a week for any experienced mage.

“Well, good work, everybody. Disciples, this concludes the end of our training exercise.” The moment that Elder Hua addressed the gathered members of her Sect, they paid the fullest attention to her words, showing the utmost respect. She gave a mischievous smirk. “Good showing against the Demonic Beasts. Fastest clear goes to Yang Xingling and Qin Shurui, but I’ve got to agree with Disciple Song Quanhao – our foreign friend does have a good taste for the Spiritual Arts.”

She’d been observing them? All three of their groups?

“Oh, come on!” She laughed, savouring the looks on their faces. “You didn’t really believe me when I said that I’d let those Demonic Beasts devour you, did you? The Elders and the Grandmaster would never have allowed that!”

Sure, Sylar had fully bought into that lie, but it wasn’t what had truly surprised him.

No, what he couldn’t understand was how? How had she been able to watch over them?

He was a Diviner, and he prided himself over the acuity of his senses. With his Diviner’s sight, it was nigh-impossible for anyone not versed in spells of Illusion to mask their spellcasting in his presence.

Where had Elder Hua been observing from – and how hadn’t he noticed her presence? There were means of doing so he was familiar with, but he doubted it could have been a spell of scrying.

“Xingling, we will discuss further of your next steps in progressing through the Nine Unification Processes later. Liu Yao, Qin Shurui, Song Quanhao, meet me individually back in the Sect, and I’ll give you my input of how you three can improve as well. Wu Guanzhong, I’ll leave Elder Yang to continue overseeing your training.”

Then – to Sylar’s surprise – she spoke to him as well, offering a brief shrug.

“Not quite sure what to make of you, Sylar Spellsight. Even if we ignore the many differences in the formations you utilise, your Spiritual Arts don’t pertain to my Second Comprehension, or its Revelations. Can’t tease out what the nature of your Path is as well. I must admit, you’re quite the puzzle.”

She paused, and for the first time, seemed to be taking him in critically. “What I can say, though, is to be prepared going forward. Most people find that achieving the Second Comprehension of the dao through cultivating the spirit is usually harder than the First, because one is too accustomed to cultivating the body. It’s backwards in your case – since you’ve already demonstrated expertise with the Spiritual Arts – but I’d put in a good wager that your current status of spiritual cultivation will impede your progress in bodily cultivation. Gathering qi for the opening of your meridians is one thing, but finding your First Revelation will be harder yet – and the subsequent ones even more so.”

It was a lot to take in. His understanding of the whole process of cultivation was still hazy, and there were many unknowns.

But therein lay opportunity, and Diviners loved nothing more than to capitalise on such moments.

“Elder Hua,” he said with a slight bow, attempting to mimic what he had noted of the local customs. “It may not be my place to ask of this, but I’d like to pay another visit to the Righteous Heart Sect to ask some questions of my own at some point, or potentially see if we can engage in mutually beneficial discussions. Much of the teachings from my homeland differs from what I have seen of your Sect.”

“Hmm?” she made a distracted sound, having already decided that she was done with her debrief. “Eh, sure, go ahead. Ask what you want of these five. Wu Guanzhong, you’re the most responsible – you make sure none of them goes into the details of anything past Outer Disciple level of secrecy. Play nice, now.”

With that – she leapt from where she stood.

In the next instant, as power accumulated over decades of bodily cultivation surged out from within her core, Wind Essence was sucked in from the ambient air, clinging to her form. As though an Air Elemental, she drifted into the air, her physical form fading from sight, turning transparent as motes of Wind Essence coalesced all around her.

And then, she flew away.

It was fascinating – and more than a little terrifying. He knew of Spellsongs specialising in Transmutation that could mimic that feat with the use of potent spells such as Aspect of the Tempest or Maelstrom Avatar, for which the exact matrices and activation methods for their constituent Essences were secrets closely guarded by their practitioners.

Her method, however, was clearly different – Transmutation magics altered physical form directly through the inherent power that lay within Essence, blending flesh, bone, and sinew themselves into air when first cast, only to be reverted to their original forms at the end of their duration. Instead, it appeared as though Elder Hua melded raw Essence around her corporeal being through the bizarre energy that was cultivated qi, turning her into a quasi-Transcendental being. In fact, it perhaps wouldn’t be far off to describe her present state as a hybrid between a mundane being of flesh and bone, and a transcendental creature much like an Air Elemental.

With that revelation, he knew just how she had evaded his notice when the scattered groups had been thick in the midst of their respective battles. For all the strange powers of insight and perception that his rudimentary cultivation of Fate-Fate brought him, they hadn’t drawn any awareness to the cluster of Wind Essence that was her Transcendental Form back during the battle. She had to have been flitting around the different battlefields, observing the three groups at work.

Sylar looked back toward the five remaining members of the Righteous Heart Sect. “Well, I guess I’ll be relying on your expertise, then.”

Yang Xingling didn’t even deign to respond. Before Sylar had even finished his sentence, she was already moving as a blur along the path back to Penshan, ignoring his presence entirely.

“… I don’t think she likes me very much.”

“Hah! Don’t worry too much about her; Senior Yang doesn’t like anyone very much.” Quanhao paused, then looked at Guanzhong. “Well, except for Guanzhong, of course.”

“Can we please stop talking about our previous relationship?”

“Aha! So you admit it!”

“That wasn’t my point at all…”

“Um.” Sylar coughed. “Shouldn’t we at least try to catch up with her?”

“Trust me, it’s best to leave her on her own when she’s in this sort of mood,” Yao advised.

“Guess we’ll have to make our way back by ourselves.” Quanhao turned toward his cultivation partner over the past several weeks of training beyond the Sect’s borders. “Hey, Shurui! Up for a race?”

“We are meant to accompany Sylar, Quanhao,” Guanzhong sighed, shaking his head. He looked toward Sylar, a faint smile on his face. “I hope that Quanhao hasn’t given you too much trouble earlier.”

Heh, trouble?

“Quite the opposite, really,” he denied, sporting a wolfish grin. “His demonstration showed me just how much I didn’t know about your local cultivation practices and feats.”

Quanhao scratched at his cheek – for someone as bold and outspoken as he was, it seemed that he was not one to bask in compliments. “Still, you managed to achieve that breakthrough on your own. It’s only the first step, but it sure is something.” He whistled. “You wouldn’t happen to be one of those geniuses that come once in a thousand years, would you?”

Sylar snorted. Genius? Him?

Hardly.

He’d failed admissions to the Spellhold in the first place, back when he had first graduated from Master Rynwald’s tutelage, that had set off the chain of events leading to his adventuring career in his early teens. It hadn’t begun with anything dangerous – putting down small packs of goblins here and there, perhaps assisting in hunting down more ferocious creatures occasionally. Over the years, however, that had eventually led to his party and the band of other adventurers they allied with racing against time to put down the reawakened Dread-Lich and banish him back to the Labyrinth of Eyes before he could fully recover his strength and restore his former glory.

“You should be careful, however,” Guanzhong warned. “It still astounds me that you managed to achieve the First Comprehension on your own, but improper cultivation can leave lasting effects upon the mind, spirit, and body.”

“Dumb luck does tend to follow me around,” Sylar said, grinning. “It’s honestly a miracle that I’m still in one piece, after the misfire with the Spiritual Art that displaced me from my homeland to the Immortal Lands.”

Guanzhong threw him a curious look. “You know, you never did explain just how you came to venture beyond the borders of your home.”

Sylar hesitated momentarily. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the cultivators he now found himself with. He was fairly open to the idea of a mutual exchange of information, and in fact, he’d already freely given some of the barest basics of magic that a neophyte mage would know in his tutelage of Qiyu.

Still, information could be dangerous if allowed to fall into the wrong hands, he knew. He wasn’t one to brag, but from his dealings with the Righteous Heart Sect and the yet-unidentified cultivator who had infiltrated the Lu Manor, he was quite confident that he had an advantage in terms of pure scientific rigour. In his opinion, he and the mages of Resham had a far better understanding of the characterisation of the various types of Essences, and the spellforms that could be constructed through proper utilisation of Essence Pairs.

Already, he knew that he was drawing the intrigue of even the Elders of the Righteous Heart Sect. If someone with less benevolent intentions were to discover of his true origins and the depths of his knowledge, he wasn’t naïve enough to think that the matter would be settled with a nice, friendly discussion over tea and biscuits about the intricacies of magic.

“It was a mishap,” he said diplomatically. “I was – well, experimenting with another one of my Spiritual Arts. I believe you saw the Flash Step earlier?” They nodded at that. “The overall effect was something similar to that, only amplified unimaginably many times greater. I didn’t account for a parameter that I should have, the Spiritual Art grew unstable, and I was transported a great distance away to end up somewhere within what I now know to be the Silver Forest.”

The others took a moment to parse that statement. “I can’t claim to understand the workings of your Spiritual Art, but that sounds like it could have been dangerous,” Guanzhong said. “Even the slightest error in the preparation of a Spiritual Art can lead to Qi Deviation.”

Interesting. Did accruing Soulburn factor into the phenomenon they termed Qi Deviation?

“Trust me, I know.” He grimaced. If the artifact had released its stored energies in any other way, he knew that there was a real possibility he could even now be drifting between Planes for all eternity. “Let’s just say that I’ve learned my lesson not to be overly zealous in satisfying my curiosity going forward.”

“The sun will be setting in a few hours,” Liu Yao noted, casting his gaze skyward. “We shouldn’t tarry too long.”

Now that he had the opportunity to rest for some time, some of the Soulburn that he had accumulated over the battle and travel had dispersed. At last, he could comfortably summon an illusory Phantom Steed, and start making the journey back to Penshan.

“Are you still able to travel, Sylar? You still seem a little winded.”

“Come to think of it…” Quanhao began saying, glancing between Sylar and Guanzhong. “How did you get here, anyway? You couldn’t have been able to keep pace with Guanzhong – uh, no offense.”

Sylar snorted. “None taken.”

He stretched his aching limbs – he was accustomed to exertion more than most mages were, owing to his time as an adventurer, but his preferred method of combat tended to be that of hiding behind fighters donning the most well-enchanted of protective equipment or paladins empowered by the sacred blessings of their deities. Just one last spell, and he would have a nice, leisurely ride back to his new home.

“Some space, please?”

“Eh?”

Sylar tuned out the sounds of confusion made by Quanhao, dimly aware of Guanzhong guiding his juniors away to clear out a circle of open territory before Sylar. It would take a bit of concentration, and the dull aching in his head was doing no favours, but…

Shadow Essence fell into their pairs, intermixing with subtle accompaniments of Form Essence. A firm enforcement of his will upon the Essence now inhabiting the matrix inscribed within his soul stirred them into motion, and with a jolt of raw magic, the powers contained within the framework of pairs within their shells bled out into the material world.

A shadowy body first manifested, hovering as an amorphous blob, before it twisted and writhed, extending outward to form new appendages, and contracting along the contours of its sleek body. Within moments, an umbrous equine form lay before him, its head dutifully lowered. Wisps of a murky vapour trailed out from it, but as the illusion drawn from the Hollow Reality grew more corporeal, now fully realised as a material existence, the colour and tone of the Phantom Steed became more lifelike, with varying shades of grey and brown across its magic-granted form.

“What the –“ Quanhao swore, startled. “You kept a horse in a dimensional ring? No, forget that – you own a dimensional ring?”

Sylar blinked, his hand resting on the back of the horse’s lowered neck that was strangely warm to the touch. “A what?”

“It’s his own Spiritual Art, Quanhao,” Guanzhong corrected. “I was surprised when I first saw it as well.” Then, he frowned. “And you know that dimensional rings are just a myth.”

“To be precise, it’s actually an illusion.” He’d glossed over the basic notions of the spell with Guanzhong the day before during their travel, and while the information he received in turn had been enlightening, it raised many new questions of their own. “Just, uh – a little more real than most other ones.”

“An illusion?” Quanhao frowned. He glanced at Sylar momentarily, an unasked question on his mind, and at the nod of approval he received in turn, brushed his large hand over the horse’s back. “Incredible,” he breathed. “Hey, Shurui! Yao! You need to check this out!”

It was odd to see what was a relatively basic spell receive as much awe and attention as it now did. It wasn’t as though the cultivators here were that backward in their ability to use high level magic. Guanzhong was but a Core Disciple, and he’d been fully comfortable with using his Pecking Blades Technique, that appeared to be a variation of Animate Objects. Quanhao hadn’t been all that surprised by Elemental Barrage either, compared to the now near-reverence that he held the Phantom Steed in.

“Is it really that impressive?”

“Sorry,” Guanzhong said, smiling apologetically on behalf of his juniors. “You must understand – this isn’t a Spiritual Art that is practiced by any of the three Sects of the Penshan Alliance. I don’t feel as much spiritual pressure coming from it as the other one you used in our duel did, but this art doesn’t have its roots based in the cultivation techniques of the Orthodox Sects.”

“The what now?” Sylar frowned. “I don’t think that Jin or Wenchai mentioned that before.”

“They haven’t?” Guanzhong startled, then chuckled. “You never fail to surprise, Sylar Spellsight.”

“I don’t suppose you’ll be kind enough to shed some light on the matter?”

“But of course,” came the ready reply, and there was a new sense of appraisal in his gaze. “You are a cultivator now – whatever you may have been back in your homeland. By your own merits, you have cultivated the well of energy now resting in your dantian, and opened your meridians. You may not be a member of our Sect, but we of the Righteous Heart will not allow our ally to remain ignorant of the cultivation world.”

At long last, after the two weeks spent in the Immortal Lands, it seemed that he could have an overview of the workings of the world from one of the local mages. Jin, Wenchai, and the others at the Lu Manor had been kind and accommodating with him, but with them not being cultivators themselves, Sylar didn’t know how much of what he’d been told was fact or fiction.

“How about we talk and ride?” Sylar suggested. “Just a moment…”

It would be pushing it a little, considering the current state of his Soulburn, but the ride here had been awkward enough, what with him casually riding on his horse while peering down at Guanzhong as he kept pace. A moment’s concentration later – along with a spike of discomfort within mind and soul – four more Phantom Steeds stood proudly beside their temporary riders.

Quanhao was visibly shaking with glee, and though Yao and Shurui were more controlled in their reactions, it was clear even to Sylar that they wanted a go at riding what was to them an exotic Spiritual Art, never mind the fact that it travelled slower than any of them could run.

“Shall we?”

-x-x-x-

It was quite a lot of information to take in. Sylar Spellsight had just been given a rushed primer of the cultivation world and its origins, and to be frank, it was quite unlike what he had expected. There were many more things he wanted confirmation on, including the Daodejing, that he had been told was an influential text that formed the very basis of cultivation.

For now, however, he pressed a certain point.

“So all three sects of the Penshan Alliance would belong to what you call the Orthodox Sects,” Sylar summarised, as the horses continued at a comfortable canter, but not so fast that their hooves drowned out the sound of all conversation. “And you say that all of them base their cultivation techniques upon the Eight Trigrams?”

Guanzhong nodded. “Each of our sects have specific techniques that have been refined over the generations, but one can trace the roots of their foundations to the I Ching, one of the sequences and interpretations of the Eight Trigrams.”

“And what about the Unorthodox Sects?”

“It is still based upon the same principles, but they recognise a different set of trigrams than we do. The Unorthodox Sects don’t have a large presence in the state of Wu, but we’ve had dealings with some of them. The Veiled Eminence Sect rarely ventures out of their home in the Bleak Mire, but several of their emissaries have visited Penshan before. They trigrams they utilise and the Paths corresponding to them are unlike those of the Righteous Heart, Crystal Path, or Radiant Star.”

Interesting. Sylar filed that for later thought. He had a conjecture going, having seen the Eight Trigrams the night before, when Quanhao and Shurui had been in the midst of tandem cultivation. The combinatorics hadn’t made sense to him back then – there were only eight trigrams arranged in the matrix to give sixty-four permutations – thirty-six combinations of pairs in all.

He recalled it vividly. Pairs of the same type of essence had been neatly arranged in a diagonal, but along the line of reflection that marked permutations of the same combination, one half of the sheet had been white ink against black paper, while the other half had been black strokes against the white.

If so…

“Do the Crystal Path and Radiant Star have a different reading of the Eight Trigrams?”

There was a brief pause.

“Yes – but how, I cannot say,” Guanzhong finally answered. “Each sect’s interpretations of the trigrams recorded in the I Ching are guarded secrets, allies though we may be. They are the very roots of our cultivation techniques, beginning from the time we first enter our sects. The trigrams themselves are common between us, but their arrangements, readings, and cultivation methods used to build upon them are unique to each sect.”

“Ah.” For several moments, silence lapsed, the steady clattering of hooves the only sound across the vast road. “Uh – in that case, is it alright that I took a peek at the Trigrams last night?”

Quanhao laughed. “What, that? That little sheet’s just a mental aid given even to the most junior of Outer Disciples. Sure, it’s technically a secret of our sect, but its only one piece of the Path Establishment Manual. It’s probably been circulating in the black market for generations now.”

“It was careless of me to forget that something as basic as that belongs to our sect,” Guanzhong added. “Still, without the theory and methods of cultivating in accordance to the trigrams that have been refined over generations of our predecessors, it’s completely useless. I’m sure the Elders will turn a blind eye to it.”

“Oh.”

It was, all things considered, rather fascinating. From what he heard so far, it wasn’t too far-fetched to think that these two factions each utilised eight out of the thirteen Essences in various ways in their cultivation techniques and Spiritual Arts. Among the trigrams, while there weren’t perfect fits between his terminology and that of the locals, and while all he could do was extrapolate the concise descriptors written beneath each pair of trigrams, he could roughly match their trigrams to one specific type of Essence.

Chaos and Order were notably missing, however; and as much as he tried shuffling the way he matched them around, it was the best interpretation he could come up with. Given that he knew that the locals utilised both types of Core Essences – even now, they were still burning it, for Planes’ sake – it stood to reason that perhaps they wielded ten out of the thirteen Essences. Eight were the basis for the trigrams, and the two Core Essences played a different role.

It was different from what he was accustomed to in Resham. While there were institutions dedicated to specific wielding of the various spell disciplines, a general understanding of all types of Essences was expected of any mage beyond their days as a neophyte.

“And then, of course, there are those of the Evil Path.”

Faces darkened at that, but save for the ominous nature of the words, Sylar was clueless. “What?”

“Our mortal enemies. In all other Sects – Orthodox or Unorthodox – we are taught that cultivation and the power we gain through it bears a responsibility. We do not shy away from death, but we don’t seek to needlessly cause it, either,” Guanzhong explained. “Those who walk down the Evil Path, however, kill as their very basis of cultivating. Their dao, and the purpose they have pledged their existence to, are based upon the foundations of delivering death and causing destruction.”

Sylar had earlier thought the term to be a general descriptor when he first heard it during his meeting with Elder Yang, albeit one that bordered on the grandiose and pretentious. To know now that it bore a specific meaning, however…

“Then the ones that infiltrated Jin’s home and caused Qiyu’s suffering – you think they are part of the Evil Path too?”

“Elder Yang believes so, and I trust in his wisdom and judgment.”

“What did happen in Penshan, anyway?” Shurui asked, curious. “Elder Yang’s message only told us that an unknown sect had attacked the magistrate’s daughter, and to maintain vigilance in the ongoings within Jinxiang Province.”

Sylar exchanged glances with Guanzhong. “Well…”

It took another fifteen minutes to retell the story, beginning with his fortuitous meeting with Wenchai until his reverse-engineering of the Horrid Nightmare and the development of a counterspell. Just as Guanzhong had been during their first meeting, the others were surprised that he had crafted what they thought was an array for a novel Spiritual Art from scratch over the period of a hectic night.

“You used the daoshi to remove the curse?” Quanhao marvelled. “Is that even possible?”

“It was a gamble,” Sylar said, downplaying what they thought to be a grand achievement. “More than anything, I was lucky.”

“To think that our enemy would have subjected himself to such a horrid means of Qi Deviation in order to preserve his sect’s secrets, though…” Shurui’s words trailed off thoughtfully. “This must be larger than just a single incident.”

Qi Deviation. That term had come up several times before, now. It had a link to Soulburn – that much was obvious – but there seemed to be subtle differences in context.

“Is there anything you can tell me about Qi Deviation?” he ventured the question. “I’m familiar with something similar from my homeland, but there have been some differences gnawing away at me.”

“The first steps of cultivation involve drawing upon natural energies of the world to be pooled into the dantian; a stage that you have just broken into,” Guanzhong said. “As a cultivator progresses further, however, special care needs to be paid into how they build successive layers upon the foundation that has been laid down. Improperly cultivating incompatible energies can result in Qi Deviation, and a crippling of mind, spirit, and body – or, in the most extreme cases, death.”

Interesting. Sylar had thought the unknown cultivator he had fought to have killed himself by accumulating far too much Soulburn for his body to handle. Was Qi Deviation truly the culprit here? Were they even two separate entities?

“Of course, you could be a genius like Senior Brother here,” Quanhao teased. “He’s the only one in our generation with the right spiritual roots to practice the Four Yin Mystical Tempering art.”

Hells. Now there were spiritual roots as well?

“Quanhao,” Guanzhong warned, but then returned to addressing Sylar. “You should be careful, Sylar. Your First Comprehension and the foundation of your Path doesn’t feel like any of the cultivation methods used by the Righteous Heart, or even those of the Crystal Path and Radiant Star sects. The dangers of Qi Deviation will only grow as you continue advancing further along in your cultivation.”

“I’ll bear that in mind.”

Sylar was thankful for the advice. He was pretty much winging it here, from the sounds of things, what they called ‘Foundation Establishment’ seemed to be a basic step, where drawing upon the energies of any of the Essence pairs into the dantian would suffice. He was no stranger to risk, and as a Diviner, he felt that he had a better grasp of what he was doing, even if he was venturing into unknown territory.

That was for him, however.

“There’s something I want to ask,” he said slowly. “I’ve, uh – been teaching Qiyu some of the basics from my homeland.”

Guanzhong nodded. “Yes, the young lady of the Lu family has been progressing in her cultivation. She has strong fire roots, I believe? You have done a remarkable job, for one who hasn’t been part of a sect.”

“Yeah… there’s a bit of an issue there,” he admitted. “I’ve just been playing it by ear. She’s still in the very early stages of her training – but I didn’t know that Qi Deviation even existed until you mentioned it, and…”

He let his words trail off. It was obvious enough what had been left unsaid.

“It’s dangerous to cultivate without referring to an established method under proper guidance from a mentor,” Guanzhong finally said. “Still, there’s nothing to worry about at present, since her dantian is not yet developed, and her meridians unopened. From what I sensed of her when we met, she is doing a fine job of building upon her fire roots without tainting her dantian with impurities.”

He hesitated momentarily. “As a friend, I can only marvel that you managed to teach her that much, considering that you hadn’t broken through to the First Comprehension at the time,” he said delicately. “As a Ranking Disciple of the Righteous Heart Sect, however, I must advice that you take due caution going forward, especially once she successfully opens her meridians. Even the slightest mishap can leave one crippled, and the young lady does not possess the same experience with Spiritual Arts that you do.”

“Yeah, I’m aware of that.” Sylar sighed. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance that the Righteous Heart could take over her training?”

It hurt his pride to have to give up his first ever student, after having had no students sign up for the Nimbria Academy of Essence Studies, but he knew that he was out of his depth. His expertise lay in Substantiology and the casting of spells, not bolstering one’s body and mind with an energy he didn’t know even existed up to a week ago. His pride wasn’t worth causing lasting harm upon his student.

The other disciples had never met Qiyu, and so Guanzhong spoke on their behalf. “I can’t say for certain, but I can’t imagine that the Elders would turn away a diligent student with strong roots such as herself,” he said. “She would have to formally be inducted into our sect, however.”

“I figured as much.” Sylar closed his eyes, rubbing at his temple tiredly. “I’ll have a discussion with her and Jin, and see what they think.”

“It does not have to happen immediately. For now, drawing energy and establishing the dantian is the most important step, and you have been doing a fine job with teaching her.”

Sylar made a soft smile, thankful for the small consolation. Planes, having a student was actually fun, he had been surprised to discover. Still, no two mages were ever alike in styles, specialities, and preferences. Just as it had been back in his apprenticeship days under Master Rynwald, he knew that it would eventually have to come to an end.

Unless…

“Hypothetically, what would the Righteous Heart Sect say about a collaborative partnership?”

“A partnership?”

“I don’t mean to brag, but I consider myself decent at the Spiritual Arts,” he said, earning a loud snort from Quanhao. “I reckon there’s a thing or two I could teach even a Core Disciple like yourself about the techniques you utilise. In return, the Righteous Heart assists with overseeing the cultivation of me and my students, beginning with Qiyu.”

That proposal came as a surprise to the cultivators. The junior members, who had been quietly deferring to their senior’s authority for the most part, seemed shocked by the suggestion, and even Guanzhong appeared to not have been expecting it.

“It is a decision that will depend on the will of the Elders,” Guanzhong replied, after a long moment’s consideration. “Possibly the Grandmaster, even. And even then, it will be unlikely that they will allow the sect’s advanced cultivation techniques to be taught to an outsider.”

“Hmm.” Sylar hummed in acknowledgment. “I’ll need to think about it a bit more before raising the suggestion, then. Thanks.”

They continued riding in silence.

“I wasn’t aware that you had any other students beyond Lu Qiyu?”

“Not yet, but I intend to set up a school of my own.”

It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, but as soon as Sylar said it, there was just a sense of something right about it. He’d failed in establishing his school back in Resham, but Sylar Spellsight was not one to accept failure. All those drafts he had created of old textbooks were probably lying forgotten in his lifeless tower on the outskirts of Nimbria at the moment, but it seemed that they might at last have their time to shine.

“A school?”

“Yeah,” Sylar said, grinning. “The Nimbrian Academy of Essence Studies.”