A Pug's Journey (Cultivation Starts with Breathing)

The sky was still dim when Sali was sitting on the floor in her room. The morning bell had not yet rung.

She sat with her legs folded, back straight, and closed her eyes. Her lips were pressed together in focus, and she drew a long, steady breath.

I sat behind her on a stool. One paw rested lightly against her back.

Her shoulders rose and fell with each inhale and exhale. For a while, she was calm. I pressed my paw firmer and began to push a fine strand of Qi into her back. The flow was thin, controlled, tracing inside her body..

Minutes passed. And outside was quiet except for the faint whistle of wind through the walls. A cart clattered faintly on the street beyond, and somewhere further away, a train whistle could be heard.

Her brow furrowed. Sweat dotted her forehead, and her fingers pressed harder against her knees. She was trying, but trying required time. I pushed again, letting Qi spread across her back, and circulated it through her body.

Half an hour passed.

Her breath grew heavier, shoulders trembling with the effort to focus on something she could not control yet. Another half hour followed, and her sweat started to pool on the floor.

At last, I withdrew my paw.

Sali opened her eyes slowly. Her gaze dropped to her hands, palms up. The disappointment on her face was clear.

I gave a low grunt. When we first started nearly a week ago, she had not been able to feel anything. Now, her problem was understanding the strand of Qi in her body.

The morning bell rang across the compound, its tone carrying into the room. Boots echoed from the halls as entrants woke up, voices beginning to overlap with greetings and yawns.

Sali got a piece of cloth from the small basket beside her. She wiped her forehead and cheeks, then rose and carried herself to the wash basin in her room. The water splashed cold as she bent to clean her face.

I remained seated, letting my own Qi circulate again. The channels in my body felt clearer than before; it felt like teaching her had helped me realize a few things.

Sali returned, her hair damp, her tunic changed to a cleaner one. She tied her belt, fastened her collar, and lifted her bow case onto her shoulder. She looked tired but composed.

"I'm hungry," she told me.

I hopped down from the stool with a thud and I grunted with affirmation.

She bent and scooped me up. She pressed me against her side and we left the room.

The halls were louder now. Entrants walked in pairs or groups, speaking about the day ahead. Some spoke about their performance on the train, boasting that they had seen through the illusions or exaggerating how many attackers they had fought off.

Others were silent, clutching their tags in one hand as if afraid to lose them again.

Sali said nothing, and only carried me through the noise.

Sarah was waiting for us by the corner. She had already dressed, her cloak neat, her hair tied back, and her sword at her hip. She looked alert, as though she had not spent half the night awake in taverns.

"The others won't be joining," Sarah said. "Holt, Dain, and Mark are still sleeping it off."

Sali blinked. "They're still sleeping? But it's time for breakfast."

Sarah gave a small shrug. "That's what comes of celebrating too much. They'll recover by afternoon."

I sniffed the air. Sarah's scent was a bit sharper than usual, heat clinging faintly to her clothes. It was mixed with another scent… Mark's?

The conclusion was easy enough, though I looked away without comment. It was none of my concern.

The dining hall was already crowded when we arrived. Long tables stretched across the floor, benches filled with entrants speaking over one another. The smell of food hit at once: bread, stew, roasted meat, and porridge, all laid out in wide trays that guild staff refilled steadily.

Sali walked to the serving line with me in her arms. She collected a normal plate for herself, and then stacked three large bowls onto another tray for me. She carried it carefully to an empty table near the wall and set me down.

I hopped onto the bench and sniffed the first bowl. Meat and grain stew, thick and steaming. I lowered my head and ate quickly, tearing through the first bowl before Sali even finished breaking bread for herself.

She ate calmly, spooning her own smaller portion while I pushed my way into the second bowl.

The night before, I had already told her that I plan to return to my large form once I've made a name for myself. But if I didn't eat enough, the exhaustion would catch me faster.

By the time she was halfway through her plate, I had finished my third bowl and sat licking my paws. Sarah was a bit surprised when she sat down, seeing me gulp down food meant for three people.

Around us, eyes lingered. Entrants glanced from Sali to me—plenty of them found the whole thing a bit comical.

Our plans today after eating were to go to the library, and practice Qi breathing a bit more before the tournament officially started.

So, after bidding goodbye to Sarah, who was now conversing with a fellow entrant, Sali stood up and started walking to the door. I jumped back into her arms, leaning against her.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

We had only gone a few paces before a guild official in formal colors called out to us. "Entrant Sali, and the entrant's companion."

Sali froze. She turned to face him, shifting me in her arms. "Yes?"

"Your presence is requested," he said. His tone was polite but left no space for refusal. "Follow me to the office."

A bit weird, but there was no sense to refuse.

Sali nodded slowly, her grip on me tightening. She carried me after him down a corridor that branched off from the dining hall. The noise of the entrants faded as we walked further.

The official led us through two sets of doors until we reached a smaller chamber. Inside, two men were already waiting. Two sat at a table stacked with papers, their cloaks marked with the guild insignia.

"Please enter," one of the seated men said. His voice was calm.

Sali stepped forward, still carrying me.

The man continued. "We have received a report regarding your submission of information. Specifically, the nature of your qualification."

Sali stiffened. "A… report?"

The other administrator leaned forward, folding his hands. "It has been alleged that your registration as a beasttamer is false. That the creature you carry is not a bound familiar, but something else entirely." His eyes fixed on me.

Sali nearly dropped me. Her arms jerked, and I had to shift my paws against her to keep balance. Her eyes went wide, face draining of color. "W-what?"

The first man raised a hand to steady the air. "Calm yourself. Listen carefully. It is not an issue that you are unawakened. Entrants without awakening have reached this stage before through mana control alone. That part is permissible."

He let the words settle before continuing. "The issue lies with your companion. A beast not tamed through a resonance, having its own will and its own mind… If this is true, then your entry raises implications we cannot ignore. Others would attempt the same deception."

Sali's throat bobbed. She clutched me tighter.

The second administrator gestured toward the man standing at his side. "This individual beside me is one of our Guild's certified appraisers. His resonance allows him to determine awakening, and to judge the truth of one's abilities. Should you allow us, he can put this matter to rest immediately."

The appraiser bowed slightly.

Sali's mouth opened, but no sound came out. She stared at the floor, mute under the weight of the guild's authority. She hugged me closer, her arms trembling.

"You will either confirm the report," one of the administrators said evenly, "or permit the appraiser to use his resonance. The Guild cannot proceed on uncertain ground."

Sali's eyes darted to the table, the walls, anywhere but the men in front of her.

I sighed, shifting in her grip. My claws tapped against her arm.

"It was my idea," I squeaked.

The words broke the silence.

The administrators stared at me, their expressions stiffening. Even the appraiser's calm eyes widened slightly.

One of the men leaned forward, brows furrowing. "You… spoke?"

I licked my paw, feeling irritated at this sudden confrontation on my mentee; though, I understood why. "Yes. You heard me right. I wanted her to register as a beasttamer. I wanted her to gain experience fighting people more skilled than her. That was the only way she would learn."

The three men exchanged glances, speaking without words. The appraiser's eyes, though, studied me more closely now.

"So," the first administrator said carefully, "this was a deliberate misrepresentation. By your own admission."

"Yes," I lied bluntly. "But for good reason. She is my student. I meant for her to stand among other entrants and learn through hardship. That is all."

Sali's lips trembled, her eyes darting toward me.

The second administrator rapped his fingers against the table. "Then this means, in truth, it is you who qualifies, not her. We've already received records of your fights. Did you polymorph yourself into this little beast?"

I tilted my head, ignoring his question. "Will we be disqualified now?"

The first administrator's gaze sharpened. "That is what we intend to do. If we allow an awakened individual to pass under false information, then others will attempt the same deception in future tournaments. It must be addressed properly."

I grunted, tail flicking against Sali's arm. "I understand. Will there be any more repercussio—"

Before I could finish my sentence, I froze.

A scent drifted through the hall. It was very familiar and impossible to mistake. My ears pricked.

Her.

Then the sound reached us.

Creak… Creak…

The quiet rattle of wheels against stone floor. Footsteps steady behind them.

The door opened without haste.

An attendant who looked older now than when I last saw her ten years ago entered. In front of her, she pushed a wheelchair. Silver hair gleamed under the light, long and pale, flowing over the shoulders of the young woman seated within. With wrapped eyes and a veil over her head, her lips curved in a faint smile.

Rinvara.

My breath stopped for a moment.

The attendant bowed her head slightly towards me as she briefly paused. She continued to push the wheelchair forward. Her voice was smooth, practiced. "Good morning, your Eloquence."

Mira.

I stared, frozen.

The administrators were the first to move. Both men pushed back their chairs and rose to their feet, their eyes wide. The appraiser inclined his head with respect.

"My lady," one of the administrators said quickly, "we had no notice that you were here."

Rinvara gave a small, practiced smile. She responded, "No other reason than to serve. I wished to visit this location before the tournament began, to lend my hand in healing those who might already have been injured during your examinations. It would not be proper to allow worthy entrants to suffer needlessly when aid could be given."

The men exchanged glances, unsure how to respond. The authority in her tone did not invite question.

"But," she continued, tilting her head slightly, "when I entered this place, I found something I did not expect. Right here, before me."

Her lips curved further, though her wrapped eyes remained still. She inhaled faintly through her nose. "The will of the light guided me here."

The administrators stiffened. "Lady Rava…" one began, but she lifted a hand lightly.

"Do you not know who he is?" she asked. "He is of Sunmirean blood; the Sixth Heir."

My ears twitched. Sixth Heir.

Sali's grip on me trembled. Her mouth opened slightly, but nothing came out.

The administrators exchanged another hurried look, caught between disbelief and the weight of the woman's presence. The appraiser stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as though to examine me again, but Rinvara's soft laugh broke the silence.

"How fortunate," she said. "How perfect that he should appear here, now, when the eyes of the continent will already be upon this city. What better chance could there be for him to make his presence and name known to all? The continent must see him, must acknowledge him. This is no accident, it is providence."

Her hands folded neatly in her lap as her smile lingered. "The light itself has spoken."

No one answered. The officials, caught at Sumire's blind reverence, remained standing but silent.

I could see that they've probably heard of the continent of religion, but have never really outright interacted with religious zealots.

Though, I was a bit worried and agasp at why Rinvara was acting like this.

Her lips parted once more as she turned toward me, the faintest sly smile cutting across her face.