Hic! Swords…? Nawth-thanks. I’mma makes horse-s-s-shoes fer the nexth hundreth years. Damn… yeh poissson thith ale? Whyth it soth strong? Can’th feel’ma thongue.

~Goibniu, The God of the Forge and Brew

The courtyard had changed a lot over the last week. There were new plants, and the Song sisters had redone the entire landscape. The pond’s original size had doubled, and trees Crow couldn’t immediately recognize circled the leveled area where they trained.

“Do you know what Feng shui is?” Long Lin asked, after seeing Crow observe the new settings. “You might call it Geomancy, but they are the same thing. All things have a proper place, and this creates balance. You may not feel it yet, but that balance is related to the surrounding Qi or mana if you prefer. A place with balanced mana is very beneficial to cultivation.”

“Interesting, does this balance benefit me? I thought I was leaning towards fire.”

“Is your body not made up of water? Minerals? The air you breathe? If you cultivate the body, you need to understand your vessel. Originally, before you opened your Source, your primary affinity was wood. Spirit mana opened your Source, meaning it formed with no affinity. Oddly, your body and your Source are at odds. Inside your flesh and bones, fire is primary, while wood isn’t far behind. This isn’t bad, but since fire devours wood, it has become more tyrannical. That makes your fire resistance extremely important.”

“Basically, I’m a mess?”

“Honestly, no. The more I observe your Source, the more amazing I find it. Everything inside you is working to keep that Source pure. Think about what Soul Burn is doing; it’s purging everything entering the Source. The only issue is your body and the oppressive fire it contains. Despite that, the chakras have elemental affinities. The sooner we get them open, the sooner your body can find a better equilibrium. Just remember, all things have a cost.”

“What does that mean?”

“The fire in you is powerful, and if we succeed, your power will be unparalleled to anyone at your same level, maybe even a few levels higher. I can’t say this for certain, but I think it’s coming at the cost of your vitality. Your lifespan is directly affected.”

“How much?” Crow felt a chill go down his spine.

Song Lin frowned, and even Song Xue made a small sound but remained silent.

“Best case? You’ve lost thirty percent of your life span.”

“Worst case?”

“Crow, I don’t really know. I’m not even sure if I’m right,” Song Lin sighed. “If you want a number, the worst case is you’ve lost fifty percent of your lifespan.”

“So I have twenty-five years to open my Shield,” Crow said, knowing that he’d double his remaining lifespan with each Shield grade. Losing vitality at his age was much easier to overcome than his curse. Failing to form a Shield… “If I can do that in two years—four, if I fail, that gives me over forty years to get the next Shield? I just can’t stop moving forward.”

“That… yes, I suppose that’s true. Treasures exist that can improve your lifespan, but you’d have to fight those old monsters in the tower for them.”

Crow’s eyes turned sharp as he looked toward Song Lin. “Does your help also have a cost?”

“It does. The costs are something you and I will both have to pay. I hope you remember that when the time comes.”

“Why help me then? It sounds like you’ll suffer, and that’s not what I want.”

“Crow, I’m a healer that struggles to quell the anger inside me,” Song Lin said, her eyes flickered toward Song Xue. “If I can thwart the malicious person after me, I won’t hesitate. I’ll give you everything I have, even my own vitality. I’ve watched you dedicate your life toward rescuing your mom, and I sense the same anger inside you. A martial talent like yours should not be wasted. They spoil most geniuses and turn them into ignorant, proud monsters that lack humanity—not you. At one point, I was like those geniuses—spoiled and proud. I’ve changed, Xue’er has changed me, the Druid way of life has changed me, even you have changed me. I have a lot of reasons to help, but do you feel unworthy of my grace?”

“It—no. But it’s just… ahh.” Crow stumbled over his words, trying to regain his previous line of thought before his face flushed awkwardly. “My father told me that there are two things that a man should understand. First, if someone treats you well, repay that kindness four-fold, and if they mistreat you, return that enmity a hundred times over.”

“Domineering…” Song Xue whispered in awe. “Your father is amazing.”

“Hush, you,” Song Lin snorted. “Connall is not wrong. People only respect strength and fear death. What was the second thing he told you?”

“If something comes too cheaply, be wary.”

Song Lin laughed. “That sounds him. I like these two rules, and if you adhere to them, you’ll go very far in the tower. Do you think what I am offering comes cheap?”

“I don’t know.”

“It isn’t. You might even hate me by the time we are done…” Song Lin sighed. “But that is something we’ll discuss later.”

“We already made a vow, and I trust you. My last question, before we continue further. Are you sure this won’t cause problems with your people? I won’t forgive myself if this causes harm to either of you.”

“No one will bother us. Mixing your Druid’s method of externalizing power with body cultivating will throw everyone off. You are going down a path of dual cultivation that doesn’t exist in the world. I’m not sure what your Shield would look like when it forms. It usually reflects your cultivation method. Pay attention to the Shields here. You’ll see they all have a tree etched into them. Mine has a sword. What I’m saying is you are following your own path. The only ones who would know are the people in this room, Luthais, and Gavin.”

Crow nodded.

“Good, let’s get started.” Song Lin said, and they all sat on the grass in the middle of the newly landscaped courtyard. Crow had to admit that the layout felt natural, and sitting in the middle of the conflux of various types of mana created an unnatural calm in mind and body. “Follow the breathing methods you’ve been practicing and calm your mind. The Root Chakra is between your scrotum and anus. You’ve memorized the thousands of channels to lead to it, but you need to make sure you follow the paths we indicate.”

“Understood,” Crow muttered, concentrating on the task at hand.

“Now, once you are ready, you’ll open yourself to the mana around you, but control it, so the fire around your Source is contained to that area. As you breathe in, the Qi will flow through those flames, but you must be careful not to let it all ignite. You must combine the fire and the Qi and cycle it through the meridians and into the chakra. I won’t lie—you’ll need to endure. It is going to take hours for you to get enough energy built up at your root. Once there is enough Qi built up, it will unfold on its own.”

“Will it hurt?”

“Does knowing help?” Song Lin asked.

“No.”

“Will you do this anyway?” Song Xue jumped in, tag-teaming Crow with rapid-fire questions.

“Yes.”

“Good, now shut up, relax, and listen,” Song Xue snapped, and somehow, her angry words soothed him more than any rationalization.

“Do you know why most cultivators are punished upon reaching certain levels of power?” Song Lin asked.

“No?”

“Because they are comprehending Truths, which are referred to as laws of this world. Cultivators are punished for seeking Truths because the heavens view this as heretical. Some continue to live in accordance with the heavens, but they’ll never gain the power to break the shackles that bind them to this world. This punishment is light initially, more of a warning, but it continues to grow. At a certain point, the punishment will start appearing regularly. Either you are a son or daughter of heaven, or you are its enemy.”

“I get it,” Crow said, and it wasn’t a lie. Song Lin implied that if he held back, lived in the shadows, feared death—the path of a cultivator wasn’t for him. Cultivators were born through trials of life and death, not created under the protections of those stronger than them. “I’m starting now.”

Performing two cultivation methods simultaneously was mentally exhausting. It was why Song Lin had him practice for the last week before attempting this. Crow had to control the mana entering through his flesh, so it was barely a trickle, enough to keep the black flames stoked. Then, breath after breath, he passed Qi through the fire, some of it burning up, but that was necessary to carry the Fire Qi along those meridian channels he’d been strengthening for the last week.

Seconds felt like hours, and minutes felt like days. The only thing that kept Crow moving forward was his willpower. He didn’t stop, and both mana and Qi cycled through his body, the mana headed towards his source, and the Fire Qi towards a chakra he wasn’t even sure existed.

His face turned ghostly after a while, and sweat poured down from it. He kept his back so straight that he might break if a strong wind blew into him. Through it all, the pain, the frustration of failing, and the distractions of the world didn’t exist. Black flames became more distinct, and somehow his mind produced images for what his eyes couldn’t understand. Energy entering those flames flared up, but he saw little glowing flecks that were smaller than grains of sand. These tiny bits of energy kept flowing on, and it was gathering slowly at the point where a lot of the meridians met.

The foundational chakra was gaining power, and he could see it. Each fleck was so pure and bright that they mesmerized Crow. He could sense a nearly primal power radiating from it.

“Crow,” a distant voice whispered beside him—the sound was soft enough that he heard without breaking his concentration. “Keep breathing, keep focused. I’m going to assist you. I need to cool your body down, but don’t let it disturb your breathing.”

Crow didn’t want to ignore her, but his mind had long since turned muddled. The cool sensations entering his body helped some, but it only went skin deep. It temporarily staved off the insanity the flames were delivering to his mind. It was like his nightmares, only it felt much more lucid. Somewhere in those few breaths of time where the Cold Qi gave him clarity, he realized what had to be done.

While he could see those glowing specks in his forming chakra, he couldn’t see them in his Source. It was probably foolish, but he started blindly pushing that pure energy he knew was hidden inside his Source towards that charka too. The only assurance he had was that he could briefly see those golden grains as they left his Source, but once they exited, it was as if they didn’t exist. The only thing he could do was trust the process.

Crow felt his mind crack shortly after. It didn’t hurt but opened this void in him. Like he’d lost something important but couldn’t remember what it was. The longer it went, the bigger the void grew until he didn’t even know his own name.

“Sister?” Song Xue whispered, her body shaking.

“Go rest. I’ll stay with him, but run and get Gavin and Luthais to come.”

“You—are you sure?”

“Not even I can tell what he’s doing anymore. It’ll be fine. Besides, he is burning up, and if we don’t keep him cool, he’ll fry his own brain. Maybe this was a mistake…” Song Lin’s voice shook, and her face had long since paled from the strain. In her heart, she warred with the choices she’d given Crow and felt guilty for presenting him with the most demanding option of the three they’d devised. Cultivating a curse sounded beyond crazy now that she was witnessing her manipulations in action.

Thunk.

The door shut behind Song Xue as she left the courtyard and cut through the lodge. Song Lin could hear her footfalls moving much faster, and the tap-tap-tap of her feet had turned into a full sprint. It was good that she left because Song Lin decided to stop Crow, and the backlash… She couldn’t think about that. At least he’d live.

She didn’t tell Xue’er that she’d already tried to interfere multiple times, but black flames thwarted her. Those flames were beyond formidable and unlike anything Song Lin had ever experienced. Only one solution came to mind.

She pulled from her Source and formed a long thin piece of ice about the length of her forearm. Not stopping there, she thickened it and then compressed it multiple times. Until she felt she couldn’t compact it anymore. The Ice Needle was so hard that she felt it could punch through steel and not shatter.

“Crow, if you can hear me, you must stop. Please. Stop.” Song Lin let out a small sob before recapturing her emotions. She let the profound ice techniques of her clan seal all her emotions. It cleared her mind, and the cold rationale of someone without a conscience emerged. She finally understood why her clan had a fire-based cultivation method—balance. Ice locked away feelings, physical and emotional, whereas fire was the opposite. The two cultivation methods paired perfectly.

She never told her sister that their current cultivation method would eventually turn them both like this. Locked away in their cold world, all humanity inside them sealed away. It made her realize that choosing this method for Crow was also for selfish reasons beyond her revenge. Beyond her anger. Beyond wanting the perfect counterbalance for them. This was a choice she’d have made ninety-nine times out of a hundred, but the decision could kill Crow.

Even within the cold and sealed up as she was, she knew she couldn’t let that happen. She stepped close to Crow and put her cold hand on the back of his fire-covered head. The battle between fire and ice played out, but she ignored it. Instead, she placed her mouth close to his ear.

“Please, hear me. I don’t want to do this, so please stop cultivating,” Song Lin whispered. “I don’t want to do this.”

Everything Crow had been through caused her to hesitate. No matter what, Luthais would save his life, but he would probably hate her. Frozen tears dropped off her face before melting within black flames surrounding Crow and finally evaporating.

“I’m sorry,” She said and slammed the Ice Needle through his chest.