Cultivation starts with picking up attributes

The dawn broke over the jagged peaks like a blade slicing through silk. Mist curled from the ravines below, reluctant to dissipate, as though mourning the devastation the battle had wrought. The plateau that had once been a bastion of pride and strength now lay pocked with scars—craters gouged deep into stone, pools of congealed blood, and blackened groves where spirit beasts had fallen defending their homes.

Yet, amid the ruin, the Feilun Sect endured.

Tian Shen stood atop a ridge overlooking the training grounds. His spear rested beside him, its lacquered black shaft streaked with silver veins that pulsed faintly, alive with the energy of his Utopian Core. His robes, though mended, still bore the memory of battle—stains of blood and ash blending with their original colors. He surveyed the disciplined rows of disciples preparing for another day of drills, their faces pale but resolute, each one silently seeking reassurance in his unwavering posture.

The air vibrated with tension, thick and suffocating. Even the wind seemed hesitant, stilled by the weight of what was to come.

Behind Tian Shen, Feng Yin emerged from the mist like a steady flame. Her hair, bound tightly, shimmered with droplets of dew, and her sword hung easily at her side. Her gaze, as sharp as the blade she carried, locked onto him without the need for words. She had watched him fight before—watched him silence waves of chaos with nothing but a spear and his unyielding will—and she trusted him without hesitation.

"You haven't slept," she said quietly as she approached.

"I haven't allowed myself to," Tian Shen answered with equal calmness. His eyes, luminous silver, did not waver.

She handed him a bowl of warm spirit broth infused with rare herbs. "Eat, then. You'll need strength before dusk."

He took it without protest, though his grip tightened briefly when their fingers touched. Neither withdrew, the moment lingering like a soft, unspoken vow. For them, words were superfluous. Their bond needed only presence.

As the sun climbed higher, drills began. Tian Shen moved among the disciples with purposeful grace. He corrected grips, adjusted stances, and whispered commands so subtle that only those nearest could catch them. Every motion, from spear thrusts to breath control, seemed to carry the weight of his own resolve. He radiated a quiet authority that stilled nervousness and replaced it with focus.

Whenever the power within his Core stirred—ravenous and insistent—he would pause. Eyes closed, breath slowed, he directed the excess energy downward through his limbs and into the earth below. He fed the mountain's roots with his own strength rather than allowing desire to spill unchecked. The practice taxed his spirit, but he endured, knowing that the battle ahead would demand far more than brute force.

Feng Yin, never far from his side, observed each adjustment with unwavering attention. Sometimes she silently corrected a disciple's posture when Tian Shen's focus drifted; at other times, she simply stood nearby, a steadying presence that anchored his restless spirit. Their trust deepened not through shared words, but through their shared discipline.

By midday, Sect Master Feilun summoned the elders to the Grand Assembly Hall. Maps of the borderlands sprawled across jade tables, red ink marking enemy paths and likely targets. Veterans, strategists, and commanders gathered in heated discussion, their voices rising and falling like an approaching storm.

"We must dispatch scouts immediately," Elder Mu insisted, his eyes sharp. "Let them gather intelligence before the foreigners consolidate their positions."

"Too risky," another elder countered. "One misstep and the enemy will tear through our borders without resistance."

"We must seek alliances with neighboring sects!" Lian Hua proposed, tracing routes on the map. "Only by uniting can we hold the front long enough to recover our strength."

Sect Master Feilun's expression remained composed as the debate raged. Finally, his gaze fell upon Tian Shen.

"You have faced them once," he intoned. "What do you advise?"

The hall fell silent. All eyes locked on Tian Shen, awaiting guidance.

He rose with deliberate calm. His silver eyes scanned the map before resting upon the gathered elders.

"The enemy's first move will not be a head-on assault," he said softly but clearly. "They will probe our edges, testing our defenses, exploiting weakness—isolated guards, supply lines, frightened hearts. If we falter, they will split our ranks and scatter us like straw before a gale. But if we hold formation, if every disciple anchors their mind and breath to purpose, the enemy's strength will unravel."

He extended his hand toward a ridge marked in red. "They will strike here. We must reinforce it—not with overwhelming force—but with precision. Each man and beast must know their role. We cannot rely on courage alone. We must trust in unity, discipline, and clarity of mind."

His words settled like iron into the bones of the assembly. Sect Master Feilun nodded, Elder Su's lips curved faintly in approval, and even the harshest critics found themselves silenced.

"Then we prepare as you advise," the Sect Master declared. "Let it be so."

...

As dusk approached, Tian Shen and Feng Yin climbed to the highest ridge overlooking the battlefield's remains. The western horizon burned crimson, dark banners rising like wings of crows against the fading light. Even from afar, their unnatural shapes seemed more menacing than any beast.

Feng Yin tightened her grip on the hilt of her sword but did not look away.

The wind carried the acrid scent of foreign fires, mingling with the iron tang of blood and the ghost of spirits still wailing in their dreams.

Tian Shen placed his hand gently against the shaft of his spear. The silver veins across the weapon's surface glowed softly, as if responding to his touch.

His core stirred once more, hunger flaring like wildfire—but this time, it surged not as a beast demanding release, but as a blade waiting for command.

"I am ready," he whispered into the dying light.

Feng Yin met his eyes. No words passed between them, but her hand on the sword's grip loosened slightly, steadying rather than trembling.

"Then we stand together," she replied softly.

The mountains stood witness, ancient sentinels watching two warriors who would face the storm with unwavering resolve.

The battle was not yet begun—but in that quiet moment, the outcome seemed already sealed. For where discipline met courage, where friendship met duty, the heart of the Feilun Sect beat strong.

And the storm on the horizon trembled.

The ridge stood silent except for the whispering wind. Below them, the fractured plateau stretched like a battlefield frozen in time—craters filled with stagnant pools, trees reduced to blackened skeletons, and scattered weapons glinting dully beneath the soft glow of twilight. The Feilun disciples worked tirelessly even now, setting up new defenses and tending to spirit beasts. Yet on this ridge, everything seemed to pause, as if nature itself held its breath.

Tian Shen's hand remained on the spear, his eyes narrowed as he traced the foreign banners on the horizon. His breathing was slow and deliberate, each inhale grounding him deeper into the mountain's strength, each exhale calming the restless tide of his core. Though the hunger within stirred, it no longer clawed at him with desperate force. It waited, like a predator that trusted its master's restraint.

Feng Yin stood beside him, her posture relaxed but alert. The wind stirred a few strands of hair across her cheek, but she made no attempt to brush them aside. Her gaze never wavered from Tian Shen's face.

"You've changed," she said quietly, breaking the stillness without looking away from him.

"I've learned that force alone cannot carry a battle," he answered. His lips curved in the faintest smile. "If the spear is to strike true, the arm must remain steady. If the heart is to endure, the mind must guide it."

Feng Yin's eyes softened, though a flicker of concern remained. "And if the mind falters?"

"Then we lean on each other," Tian Shen replied without hesitation.

Her eyes searched his, as if confirming the truth of his words. "We will not let it falter," she whispered.

A moment passed. The setting sun bled red across the sky, casting long shadows over the mountain's face. The foreign banners stirred once more in the wind—dark waves that threatened to engulf the horizon.

Tian Shen stood and turned toward her. "When the storm breaks, I will lead the front."

"I know," she answered simply. "And I will stand beside you."

For a brief heartbeat, their gazes locked. No vow was spoken aloud, but the depth of understanding between them ran deeper than any oath. They had shared battles, silence, and the fiercest storms of the soul—and now, standing together at the edge of impending war, they drew strength not from words but from trust.

Below, a spirit beast let out a low growl, and Tian Shen glanced toward it briefly, then back to the horizon. His eyes gleamed, steady as steel.

"We must prepare," he said. "Not just with weapons and formations, but with minds that cannot be broken."

Feng Yin nodded. "I will rally the squads. They will train through the night."

"I will oversee the formations," he answered. "Every disciple must know where they stand before dawn."

The wind picked up, lifting the dust around their feet in a swirling halo. Tian Shen extended his hand toward the dark horizon. "Let them come," he whispered. "Let them test us."

The foreign banners stirred in response, distant and ominous—but the mountain stood unmoved.

Feng Yin drew her sword slightly, its edge catching the last rays of the sun.

"We will meet them head-on."

Tian Shen's lips parted, but he did not speak. His eyes alone spoke the resolve etched deep within him.

The mountain winds howled, but neither flinched. In that still, sacred space between them, the seeds of the coming battle were already planted—seeds watered by loyalty, tempered by hardship, and rooted in the unshakable bond between spear and sword.

The storm would come.

But together, they would stand.