Unlike their previous spars, Master Ienaga didn’t fight passively. While she still focused mainly on defense, she was much more mobile—actively staying out of Eui’s reach, and constantly maneuvering so that Yoshika couldn’t surround her. She was fast! Even without empowering her movements with ki, Ienaga Yumi was superhuman on a level that Yoshika could barely fathom. Jia’s lightning steps were just barely faster, but she could only move like that in short bursts while Ienaga kept it up constantly.

Yoshika had already been humbled by the gap between the second and third stages. She had known it was larger than the gap between the first and second, but she would never forget how powerless she had been against Yue, or the way Zheng Long had dismantled her entire team single-handedly. The gap between third stage and xiantian was a gulf so enormous that even the difference between a regular mortal and the peak of the third stage didn’t seem to compare.

Yoshika was convinced that Master Ienaga could defeat any third stage cultivator with raw physicality if she fought seriously. If she used techniques? Yoshika literally couldn’t imagine it. Even now, every xiantian cultivator she’d seen had felt omnipotent. The weakest she’d ever encountered was the fire elemental, and she still couldn’t fathom how she would ever defeat it.

Mercifully, Ienaga was not fighting seriously, and while she was still frighteningly powerful without the use of her ki, Yoshika could see the places where she could exploit that weakness. First—Eui’s Six Arms technique. Clearly it was powerful enough that Ienaga wasn’t willing to engage with it—Yoshika had no illusions about actually inflicting injury, but it was almost certainly enough to force her implacable master to use ki to defend against it.

Another point in her favor was that Yoshika could move Jia’s body faster than Ienaga—even if only for momentary bursts of speed—and any blow landed would be a win for Yoshika, including one of Lightning God’s swift, low-impact blows. It wasn’t much, but it was clear that Ienaga had given her something to work with—an avenue for victory, however slim. Yoshika planned to chase that slim hope with everything she had.

Yoshika activated Absolute Awareness as she closed the distance with Ienaga and began engaging her with a flurry of blows, each one matched and neatly deflected by Ienaga. During the exchange, Yoshika used the opportunity to slowly move so that Ienaga was between Jia and Eui, watching carefully for the right opportunity. She knew that she had to use Absolute Awareness carefully—there was a limit to how long she could keep it up, and she’d need some time to recover once she reached that limit—but she needed the improved reflexes if she was going to have a chance at making her plan work.

Sure enough, as soon as Ienaga was surrounded, she moved to break off from Jia. Yoshika took that opportunity to throw one of Eui’s charged knives into the path of her escape. Then, several things happened at once. Ienaga was forced to abruptly change direction, which placed her slightly—almost microscopically—off balance. Yoshika, anticipating this, had begun to strike at the opening before it had even been created, which forced Ienaga to reconsider her change of direction, throwing her just a little bit more off balance.

As a result, Ienaga wasn’t going to be able to dodge or deflect Yoshika’s strike cleanly, and since even a glancing blow would be a loss, her only remaining option would be to dive out of the way—straight towards Eui. It wasn’t much, but the trap was closed—the only question was whether Yoshika would be able to take advantage of Ienaga’s hasty dodge to land a blow.

Just as Yoshika expected, Ienaga lowered her body and—

A sudden explosion of pain disrupted Yoshika’s thoughts before Jia’s body completely disappeared from her senses. Yoshika—no, Eui blinked in confusion as she saw Jia’s limp body soar through the air and land hard on the muddy grass of the training field before rolling to a stop.

Master Ienaga stood exactly where she had been, with her wooden sword in hand—clearly at the end of a followthrough from striking Jia with it. As Ienaga straightened, Eui glanced back to where she had left the wooden sword sticking out of the ground, but it was gone. She looked back to see that Ienaga had already closed the distance between them, and almost fell backwards, startled.

“When did you—?”

Ienaga rapped Eui on the head with the sword—relatively gently, but it still stung.

“Yield first if you don’t plan on continuing the fight! To answer your question, it was ‘accidentally’ knocked loose during our first spar. You have a domain and a perception technique—which I know you were using—so there’s no excuse for losing track of it. You should always be aware of the environment, especially weapons or things that could be used as a weapon. That goes double for you, An—the training sword could have been an asset instead of a liability. You should never assume that a disarmed opponent will stay that way.”

Eui glanced nervously down at the real sword that always hung at Ienaga’s hip. She was never seen without it, but Eui had also never seen it unsheathed. Ienaga placed a hand on Eui’s head and flashed her a smile.

“That one, you can safely ignore. I won’t draw it unless I plan to kill my opponent. Now, go wake up Lee. I have a few suggestions for things you two should practice over the next week.”

Once Jia was woken up and filled in on what happened, she went over the memory carefully. Sure enough, thanks to Absolute Awareness being active at the time, she could clearly remember the wooden sword being knocked away during the first spar. Then later, the way Ienaga had maneuvered the fight so that they were right over it, hidden in the grass, but not outside of her perception—had she only been paying attention.

It was embarrassing, but at the same time, Jia was amazed by her martial arts mentor all over again. Had it been a coincidence that Ienaga had been within reach of the sword right when Yoshika made her move, or had she known it was coming and planned for it? Given her reputation as a genius martial artist and tactician, it was probably the latter.

Ienaga’s suggestions turned out to be a series of questions about Yoshika that needed to be answered. Could she exchange elemental ki from one body to another, in order to switch styles? Yes, it turned out—sort of. There was a delay in the exchange of ki that made it extremely impractical for an actual fight, but Yoshika could use techniques from the Lightning God Transformation with Eui’s body, or Six Arms of Asura with Jia’s.

Could she use the Soft Fist by combining ki from both girls? Yes! It was an all-or-nothing strategy, however—since it required a constant flow of ki in both directions, Yoshika was either using Lightning God and Six Arms, or Soft Fist with both bodies. It was still much faster than adjusting the elemental attunement of her bodies, and gave her new strategic options if she developed her underutilised third martial art a bit more.

More things she had to work out by the end of the year. Jia had already been feeling the pressure of the enormous mountain of things she had to work on, and losing half a month to her most recent transformation—as invaluable as it was likely to be—wasn’t helping.

During the next practice session—after accepting welcomes back from Dae, Yuuko, and the others—Jia went to go find Hayakawa. She needed to make it plain that she wouldn’t accept the kind of treatment that Hayakawa had given her, and that if Hayakawa wasn’t willing to build an equal friendship, then Jia wasn’t interested in anything she had to offer.

Disappointingly, Hayakawa was nowhere to be found. Kasai Hanako explained.

“She’s still in her closed door training. We were actually taking bets on whether it would be you or her who finished first. Thanks for that, by the way—you made me a few mana stones off of that bet!”

Off to the side, Satou grumbled something about unfair terms and Hana giggled.

“Everyone assumed you were also trying to break through to the third stage, but I made sure to word it so that no matter what you were doing, I would win as long as you got back first. Anyway, Lady Hayakawa’s not back yet, but there is someone else who you should talk to.”

Miyata, apparently desperate to make himself relevant without Hayakawa to hide behind, interjected.

“Ugh! Please! That tiger-headed moron asks after you every single day! As if he can’t plainly see for himself that you’re not here.”

Hana shrugged, then nodded in the direction of Kim Yongsun and his team, who had apparently started joining in on the training sessions shortly after Jia and Eui’s sudden absence.

“He’s over there. Honestly, I half expected him to come asking about you anyway. It’s like he always knew the answer but had to ask anyway for some reason. He never talks much in lessons, but he’s kind of weird, you know?”

Jia didn’t. She’d barely interacted with Kim Yongsun in the past. He had been in her team during the first mountain expedition—when Yan Zhihao died, and they met Jianmo, the sword demon. He had been strangely insistent on making Eunae the leader, even though nobody—including Eunae—agreed with him, and then he’d loudly taken exception to Jia and Eui’s origins, but both times he had backed off without much fuss. Actually, that was kind of weird, now that she thought about it.

She approached Kim, who stood out thanks to his distinct features. His head had no human features whatsoever—it was like someone had stuck a white tiger’s head on a human body and called it a day. She couldn’t tell through the robe, but judging from the white and black fur on his hands and feet, it seemed likely that he had full-body fur as well. It was an exceptionally rare expression of spiritual ancestry, which indicated an absurdly powerful bloodline.

Kim Yongsun turned to meet Lee Jia as she approached and bowed fractionally in greeting.

“Greetings, Miss Lee. I was told we were to speak nearly two weeks ago. This has been an unacceptable delay.”

Lee Jia bristled a bit at that. It’s not like she did it on purpose!

“Sorry! Did Eunae not tell you about what was going on?”

Kim nodded curtly.

“My cousin was the one who invited me to these joint training sessions, and she was also the one who informed me of our meeting. Naturally, she also told me that you had gone into an unexpected closed door session. Such events are not uncommon for cultivators.”

Jia frowned in confusion.

“If she told you, and it’s normal, then why are you so upset—wait, cousin!?”

“I am not upset—I was merely stating the facts. To your implied question—Princess Seong’s father is my uncle.”

Jia’s eyes widened in shock. So that was how they knew each other!

“Does that make you a prince?”

“No. I am not a member of the Seong family, and even if I were, they do not recognize paternal relationships. I would be relegated to a branch family and not part of the chain of succession. That is not to say that it is impossible for me to one day be king. If the high council chose to elect the Kim family to represent the country, then I would be—”

Kim paused, doing some mental calculations.

“Eleventh in line. I would be considered a marquess in that case.”

Jia tried not to let her eyes glaze over. She already didn’t understand regular noble politics, and high nobles were so far beyond her that they may as well exist in another dimension. She had to remind herself that one of her best friends was a high noble, to say nothing of the one right in front of her.

“By the way, Miss Lee—I would take it as a personal favor if you did not inform my cousin that I referred to her by her proper title. For some reason it makes her upset.”

“Uh, sure. Why not just call her by name? I bet she’s asked you to.”

“She has, but it would be improper. Referring to her as my cousin is the best compromise I could find between her wishes and propriety.”

Jia’s brows furrowed at that. Why? If she could call Eunae by her given name, then surely her own cousin could get away with it. She suspected that there was some peculiar idiosyncrasy of Kim Yongsun involved, but she didn’t know him well enough to guess what it was.

“Right. Anyway, what did you want to talk to me about?”

“I was asked to advise you on matters related to spirits, ancestors, and bloodline. I am told that you have made significant strides in communing with your inner spirit, which helped my cousin achieve her own breakthrough.”

“Uh...right, yes. I have a spirit familiar, and I have been able to communicate with my inner spirit a few times—two of them, actually.”

“Two?”

“Well, one of them is Eui’s. That’s a long story.”

Kim Yongsun nodded slowly.

“I do recall learning of your peculiar partnership with Miss An. I’ve heard quite a bit about it recently, among other things.”

Jia winced, knowing full well how damning those ‘other things’ probably were.

“Uh, I’d appreciate it if you ignored that other stuff. Someone had a grudge against us and spread rumors.”

Kim nodded magnanimously.

“Of course. Where is it?”

Jia blinked.

“What?”

“Your familiar. How is it bound, and where is it now?”

“Oh! Heian? She’s asleep in my do—in my aura. She’s not really bound per se. She’s just part of me. Elder Qin called it possession, and he seemed a bit worried about it.”

Kim frowned deeply.

“Asleep? Spirits don’t sleep, Miss Lee.”

Lee Jia chuckled and shrugged.

“This one does! It’s practically all she ever does. Even when she manifests she usually ends up curling up to take a nap.”

“That is unusual. Describe how you acquired it.”

Though she wasn’t happy with the way Kim kept making demands, Jia related the experience of meeting the panther spirit on the mountain—which she had taken to calling Greater Heian in her head—and how it had left her with the fragment of itself in the form of Heian.

“I see. Your spirit familiar is a nascent spirit, formed in equal parts from the greater spirit’s mana and your own. It is half the spirit you encountered, and half you. One can only presume that the laziness it exhibits comes from you.”

Lee Jia pouted angrily. Rude!

“Wait, does that mean I really am Heian’s mother? I’m way too young to be a parent!”

Kim Yongsun shrugged.

“After a fact, yes. Also, you are quite nearly of marriageable age, having a child would not be unheard of.”

“Ew, don’t remind me! Also that is not something I want to hear from a guy!”

Kim took a step back and coughed awkwardly, averting his eyes.

“My apologies. Apparently I spoke out of turn.”

“Apparently!? Whatever, so Heian gets part of her personality from me, then?”

He nodded briskly, clearly thankful for the change of subject.

“Most likely, yes. I believe that it is similar to how we half spirits gain a portion of our own personalities from our ancestral heritage. In a way, your Heian is itself a half-spirit—albeit leaning more towards spirit much like we lean more towards human.”

Lee Jia put a hand up to her temple as she tried to make sense of what Kim was saying.

“So if you and I are half-spirit humans, then Heian would be a half-human...spirit? Is that even possible? We don’t even know the origin of our own race for certain, so wouldn’t this be a huge discovery? And what makes you so sure that our personalities are influenced by our spirit halves?”

Kim averted his eyes and coughed awkwardly. Almost the exact same motion he had just made earlier—was it rehearsed? Hana was right, Kim Yongsun was very strange.

“Yes, of course that is true—we do not know the origin of our race, or how half-spirits came into being. This is a—a guess, on my part. As for personalities, I myself am living proof of that theory, and others like me. Growing up, most of my thoughts and actions were informed by the instincts granted by my bloodline. It took a great deal of effort for me to grow accustomed to other people, and even now I often struggle to understand them.”

Lee Jia narrowed her eyes at Kim Yongsun. He was either an extremely poor liar, or a very strange man—possibly both. She decided not to pursue whatever it was he was trying to hide.

“Is that why you’re so...”

She trailed off, realizing that there was no polite way to finish what she had started to say. Kim Yongsun sighed and nodded.

“Yes. In truth, I do not empathize with most of the feelings that people express. I have learned to get by on rote memorization of the proper ways to act, but those lessons were learned in high society. I have learned since coming here that they very quickly break down among those who were not trained in the same etiquette. My cousin is one of the few people I have ever met who has been patient enough to forgive my frequent social errors.”

Jia felt a bit bad for her previous evaluation of Kim Yongsun now. It seemed like he was struggling with problems of his own.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry into your personal affairs.”

“It is no trouble. In truth, I am often chastised for oversharing, so I appreciate your patience. I would like to hear more about your communion with your inner spirits, but I believe that your familiar takes precedence.”

Jia cocked her head to the side curiously.

“How so? Is there something wrong with her?”

Kim nodded.

“I believe that Elder Qin is right to be concerned about possession. Heian is young now, but like me, she will grow with nothing but her instincts to inform her. Eventually, her desire for embodiment will lead to her trying to subsume you.”

Jia paled, but Kim held up a hand before she could respond.

“Unless you cultivate that human part of her—as you’ve learned to cultivate the spirit part of yourself. Teach her to be her own person—to see the world as a human does. You must teach her to see you not as a vessel, but as a companion—as you no doubt already see her. It is good that you came to me, as I doubt anyone else in the academy can share my unique experience.”

“Okay...thank you, I think. What do I need to do?”

“You’ve already given her a name, and think of her as female—human traits. That’s a start, but you should do more. Think of her as your daughter—or sister, if that’s too uncomfortable. Start to perceive everything she does through the lens of humanity. Teach her to speak, let her meet others and make friends—everything you can to humanize her, both in your eyes and in hers.”

That was a lot. Suddenly Heian was looking a lot more like an actual child that she needed to raise, rather than another aspect of her own power. Then again, she’d always known that taking Heian was meant as a favor to the Greater Heian rather than another benefit for her—now she understood why.

Kim Yongsun ignored Lee Jia’s hesitation and continued.

“First and foremost, however, you must correct your first and greatest mistake. In the months since you first acquired her, how often has Heian been manifested?”

Jia thought about it for a moment. Other than showing her off or occasionally playing with her, she hadn’t really manifested Heian all that often. Most of what she did, she could do from within Jia’s domain, and Steps of the Stalker was such a prohibitively expensive technique that she rarely had cause to do even that. No wonder the poor thing slept so much!

“Uh, probably a few hours, total.”

Kim shook his head ruefully.

“It’s good that she is still so young. There’s plenty of time to correct your errors. Manifest her now, and keep her that way for as long as possible. Do that every day as often as you can. You need her to see the world as a human, and that means seeing the world.”

Jia swallowed nervously as she realized how much of a responsibility she had been burdened with. As if she didn’t already have enough problems. She did as Kim asked and manifested Heian. The familiar black kitten appeared at her feet and looked around curiously before blinking up at her, meowing once, and promptly curling up to sleep.

Kim stared impassively at the little black furball and sighed.

“This may take some time.”