A Song For The Ages

Feiyin's quiet steps echoed faintly as he descended a stone staircase, the lanterns lining the path casting long, warm shadows against the stone walls. Mu had remained behind, cornered by Lirael and her quick tongue. Something about green-haired solidarity, she had said, dragging him into a discussion with Auren that Feiyin knew might last the entire evening. He didn't mind. Mu had been slowly opening up, and these bonds were just as important as cultivation.

Still, as the corridor narrowed and he turned a familiar corner, he wasn't expecting to find Yan Xue leaning against a stone column near the edge of the wide-open terrace overlooking the glowing river of molten rock deep within the mountain.

The reddish light outlined her tall silhouette, her long red hair falling over one shoulder in a waterfall of crimson. Her white robe with the two silver-threaded streaks marked her status clearly, but she wore it casually, her sleeves rolled slightly and one foot resting against the stone.

"Already made a name for yourself in just a month," she said without looking, her voice smooth and edged with a faint smile. "You're more talented than I thought."

Feiyin stepped up beside her, leaning slightly against the railing, a smirk on his lips. "Then why not accept the invitation to the group I gave you? We even made it official. The Runeweavers."

Yan Xue turned her head toward him and laughed softly. "That's a pretty arrogant name. But you know why I can't join your group. I'm already an official alchemist and a second-class disciple. I can't be seen aligning myself with a band of upstarts. I have a reputation to maintain."

Her voice was calm, her stance composed, but Feiyin wasn't listening to her words. He was feeling the subtle fluctuations beneath them, the hum of conflict and tension coiled beneath her mask of indifference. Truthful, yes. But not the full truth.

Before founding the Runeweavers, Feiyin had spent days collecting information, not just with points spent in official halls, but with meals purchased, favors exchanged, and conversations overheard.

The Saint Alchemy Branch was a crucible of power dynamics, controlled by more than skill alone. At the top were the elders, three of them standing tall. The Branch Head was a Master Alchemist, capable in both pill and artifact refinement. A figure cloaked in quiet reverence, said to have reached the sixth phase of Qi Condensation, the True Manifestation Phase.

Beneath him, two vice-heads governed pills and artifacts respectively, both Profound Alchemists, their strength anchored in the fifth phase, the Yang Refining Phase.

Then came the Deacons, those who oiled the machinery of the branch, handling logistics, resource allocation, and the appraisal and distribution of finished goods. They were all seasoned Essence Alchemists of the fourth phase, the Yin Refining Phase.

Yet it wasn't the hierarchy that had caught Feiyin's interest, but the undercurrents that flowed below. There were no Inner Disciples here, not because they weren't allowed, but because they were pushed out as soon as they broke into the third phase, Elemental Infusion. No one had told him why, only that it was tradition.

The true tension lay among the outer disciples. The first- and second-class disciples were the titans of this tier, most already established at the Qi Flow Phase. They led factions, the Beast Alchemists, the Blood Forge, the Earth Tempered. Each one specialized in providing for a particular sect branch, forging connections and leveraging demand.

Feiyin had learned the truth. Resources were finite. Points were power. When a new faction emerged, it wasn't welcomed. It was challenged, pushed, and pressured. For every step forward, someone else had to take a step back. No one gave up their seat willingly.

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If a known talent like Yan Xue were to openly join the Runeweavers, the response would be swift and brutal. Not to her, but to them. Her joining now would paint a target on their backs.

"Even if you don't join now," Feiyin said lightly, turning his head to her, "you'll come around eventually. After all, I'm pretty confident I'll be refining tier two products by next year."

Yan Xue's eyes widened, her voice sharpening. "Do you even understand what you're saying? To refine tier two, you need external control of your essence qi. You have to reach the Qi Flow Phase. That leaves you, what, six months?"

Feiyin grinned. The molten river behind him made his silver eyes gleam like polished steel. "My companions are giving their all. How can I disappoint them?"

He paused. Then, in a lower voice that carried just a trace of mischief: "We also have a bet going. I can't afford to lose."

Yan Xue shook her head, half-laughing. "You really are something. Arrogant. But something."

She looked away, then back at him. A rare note of sincerity filtered into her tone. "Alright, Feiyin. If you really do it, if you become an Essence Alchemist by next year, I'll join your little group."

Feiyin nodded once, solemnly. "Deal."

She offered him a final glance, then pushed off from the column. "Don't make me regret betting on a madman."

With her departure, silence returned to the corridor.

Feiyin didn't move for a long moment. The confident smile faded from his lips, replaced by a quiet shadow.

He turned, eyes settling on the flowing lava far below, its crimson glow painting the stone walls like blood.

In that moment, Hui's pale, twisted face flashed behind his eyes. The echo of Yue's sobs. Ren and Mu's trembling rage.

Their faceless enemy's contempt.

His fists clenched.

I can't let him live too long either.

The fire was growing.

And soon, it would consume everything.

After returning to his room, Feiyin took some time to settle his thoughts and sink into meditation. The progress of the past month had been immense, and his cultivation was no exception.

In the Qi Manifestation Phase, a cultivator's primary task was to accumulate essence from the world using their spiritual sense, fuse it with their own essence qi, and then form a rotating cyclone of energy inside the dantian known as a Qi Nexus.

The stronger one's spiritual sense, the more essence could be drawn from the environment. The stronger one's body, the more essence qi could be condensed and stored.

This phase, often referred to as the first true step into cultivation, allowed one to truly interact with the essence of the world. Longevity increased. A cultivator's body grew sturdier. Their strength began to surpass the natural limits of mortals.

For most, forming a Qi Nexus that was seven inches tall with a rotational speed of one hundred spins per second was already considered the pinnacle of the Qi Manifestation Phase.

But Feiyin's situation was anything but normal.

His meridians had been fully opened and blessed, his body strengthened far beyond the standard. His spiritual sense was sharper than any he had encountered so far, and he possessed not one, but three dantians.

Because of this, his cultivation pace was much more demanding. He had to rotate and nurture three separate Qi Nexuses, but the advantage was clear. His body could handle more. His qi could grow purer, faster. His meridians were like forged steel, able to bear greater pressure without harm.

Even now, after just a month, each of his dantians housed a nexus that was three inches tall, spinning at a hundred rotations per second, a speed that many cultivators could only dream of achieving at the peak of the phase.

The constant, synchronized pulsing of his three qi nexuses gave him a sense of immense vitality, like three hearts beating in harmony.

He exhaled slowly, letting the rotating essence qi circulate through his body, nourishing his limbs and bones. It was more than just strength. This was stability. Foundation. Power that could be trusted.

And he would need it all.

Because to protect his people, to form his own influence, to rise through this sect and uproot it from within, Feiyin needed more than talent.

He needed time.

And time, as always, was running out.