Faint torchlight from the moving soldiers and supply wagons flickered against walls carved by dwarven hands centuries before, their runes long eroded by time and smoke. Xulian sat beside Lilian in one of the wagons hovering over dungeon core fragments, the canvas cover above them rustling softly as the draft from the distant exit stirred it.

  They were close now — close enough that the air tasted less stale, though still heavy with the dungeon’s cold breath. Footsteps and armor clinked all around as soldiers marched in formation. Luim paced on the right side of their wagon, keeping pace easily, occasionally glancing up at the women as their discussion continued. Cilian, however, was perched on the side close to Xulian, listening in.

  Lilian leaned forward slightly. “Alright,” she said, “let’s start from mana, the energy most people understand. It’s rigid by nature. Hard to control, and if you lose focus, it can lash back when using higher than basic spells. Backlash can harm the caster—or anyone nearby, depending on the spell’s power. That’s why proper mana control, manipulation, and sensing are critical skills.”

  Xulian shifted, frowning. “So it’s dangerous if you’re not skilled.”

  “Exactly,” Lilian continued. “Mana flows through the body via mana veins from the mana core, which sits next to the heart. It’s physical—you can measure it, train it, and expand its capacity. Overexert the core, strain the veins, and they strengthen over time, like muscles. Your element—Wind, Water, Fire, Earth, or the rarer Light, Dark, and Space—is determined by your core. Everyone has at least one; rarely can people attune to multiple. The more elements you are attuned to, the stronger you are, because the body needs to adapt and hold that much more mana. Most people, about 80% if I am correct, are mana-based users.”

  Xulian nodded, letting the explanation settle. “Right. That’s why mana users improve gradually, but have a physical basis. Now, Qi works differently.”

  Lilian raised a brow. “I was waiting for this part.”

  “Qi is cultivated energy,” Xulian began. “It doesn’t rely on physical organs. Every Qi user is born with a spirit root, which forms the core of their dantian. The spirit root determines how Qi accumulates and which elemental path you follow. Cultivation elements are Water, Wood, Fire, Earth, and Metal.”

  She paused. “Spirit roots also have a quality ranking: mortal, earth, and heaven grades. Single-element roots are more efficient than multi-element roots, because refining Qi in multiple elements slows progress.”

  Cilian leaned forward, curious. “And the Qi itself… how does it work?”

  Xulian gestured toward her abdomen. “You first accumulate Qi and establish your dantian. Then you circulate it through the body to your meridians, refining it along the way. Pure Refined Qi flows back to the dantian, strengthening the body. This cycle stacks until the body reaches its limit, forcing a breakthrough into the next cultivation stage, which is stronger and more efficient.”

  Lilian frowned, processing the differences. “So unlike mana, which can be naturally accumulated in the body but risks backlash when used, Qi is calm, fluid, but more complex energy that needs meditation to accumulate.”

  “Yes,” Xulian said. “If you try to accumulate Qi outside of meditation, it becomes difficult to maintain, becomes unstable, and dissipates."

  Luim slowed slightly, eyes narrowing. “And the dungeon core we found… it aligns with Qi, not mana?”

  Xulian touched the fragment she held. “Exactly. Its energy resonates with the cultivation elements, with the pattern I sense in my dantian. That’s why it felt so… different from anything in mana theory.”

  Cilian shuddered slightly. “So dungeons… aren’t built for mages, then?”

  “Not necessarily,” Xulian said. “But as I see it, it appears to follow Qi principles. How or why, I’m still figuring out.”

  Luim's movements slowed, eyes darting between the walls and the slowly approaching exit. Finally, he spoke up, voice hesitant but insistent.

  “Xulian… I—I want to understand this Qi thing,” he said, glancing at her. “You… you said it’s inside us, right? A spirit root? And a dantian? Can you… show me how to sense it?”

  Xulian blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Is he actually asking? Not dismissing it? Her chest tightened. “Uh… okay. Yes. I can try to guide you. But… you have to climb into the wagon first. Sit down. Cross your legs if you can. It’ll be easier.”

  Luim hesitated. “In the wagon?”

  “Yes,” Xulian said, trying to keep her voice calm despite the nerves twisting in her stomach. “It’s steady enough. Just… trust me. Sit. I’ll… help you.”

  I really hope I don’t mess this up.

  He slowly clambered in, awkwardly folding his legs. Xulian adjusted her own posture, trying to give him space without seeming patronizing.

  “Good,” she said. “Now… close your eyes. Focus. Breathe slowly. Don’t think about anything else. Feel your body. Your whole body. The energy… it’s there, even if you can’t see it.”

  The wagon jolted along the dungeon floor as Luim shifted uneasily beside it. He glanced at Xulian, frowning. “I… I don’t feel anything. Nothing at all.”

  Xulian blinked, suppressing a sigh. “That’s… normal. In the beginning, I didn’t feel a thing either. Don’t panic.” This reminded her of how it was when she first arrived here and how difficult it was to sense anything.

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

  Luim’s eyes widened. “Nothing at all?”

  “Yes,” she said quickly, leaning closer. “Okay… think about it like this: when you fight, you sense your opponent’s movements, their energy, right? You don’t control them, you follow them. You anticipate changes. Same idea here. But instead of tracking an opponent, you follow the Qi inside you.”

  He frowned. “Follow it… inside me?”

  “Exactly,” Xulian said, trying to keep her voice calm despite her nerves. “Close your eyes. Focus on your lower abdomen, that's where your spirit roots should be and where you condense your dantian. Don’t try to move or control the energy. Just… sense it. Any pressure, warmth, tingling, even the faintest pull. Notice changes, subtle shifts. That’s your Qi responding. You’re just following it. Observing. Guiding comes later.”

  Luim exhaled slowly, his hands resting on his knees. “So… I just… watch it?”

  “Yes. Watch, feel, follow. Pretend you’re tracking an opponent’s movements, but inside yourself,” Xulian said, nodding. “Tiny hints. Sometimes it’s nothing. Sometimes it’s a flutter or a pulse. Don’t get discouraged. Just… follow it.”

  He closed his eyes, jaw tight, focusing on the emptiness in his lower abdomen. The wagon rattled, dust rising around them, but he stayed still. At first, there was nothing.

  “Good,” Xulian whispered. “That’s fine. Keep paying attention. Any little change is progress. You’ll know it when it stirs. Don’t try to force it—just… follow it, as you do in training. Anticipate, feel, track.”

  Cilian leaned back, arms crossed. “I swear, I’ve never seen anyone meditate like they’re hunting their own belly.”

  Xulian shot him a glare but kept her focus on Luim. Slowly, imperceptibly, she felt the faintest stirrings of energy in his dantian beginning to register—a slight resonance, a whisper of awareness.

  “See?” she murmured. “It’s there. You just needed to follow it.”

  Luim’s brow furrowed, but he allowed himself a small nod. “Okay… I think I… might be feeling something.”

  Xulian’s lips curved into a relieved, if tentative, smile. “That’s it. That’s the beginning. Just… keep sensing, keep following. That’s all for now.”

  Before Luim could adjust his focus, a familiar voice cut through the dim wagon light.

  “Well… why does he look so constipated?”

  Vel leaned into the wagon, arms crossed, her smirk already in place. Luim’s eyes went wide, and he straightened immediately, nearly losing the faint stirrings he had just begun to feel.

  Cilian, sitting behind them, let out a muffled laugh and quickly tried to cover it with a cough.

  Lilian’s cheeks flamed crimson. “Vel!” she hissed, hiding her face behind her hands.

  Xulian could only gape, completely flabbergasted. “I—he’s not—he’s concentrating!”

  Vel waved a hand dismissively. “Sure, sure. Concentrating, meditating… whatever floats your boat. I just came to tell you—exit is up front. I sent a scout unit ahead to make sure there aren’t any Surillians wandering around. Thought you’d want to know before you all tumble out into daylight.”

  Luim let out a shaky laugh, tension leaking from his shoulders, though the moment had completely broken his focus. He glanced at Xulian, sheepish.

  Xulian rubbed her face with one hand. “Vel, I was trying to teach, you're making it impossible.”

  Vel grinned, utterly unrepentant. “You’re welcome. Now… move up front, people. Adventure calls—or at least sunlight.”

  The wagon creaked as the group disembarked. Luim followed Lilian, still half-conscious of his earlier embarrassment. Xulian stepped down last, taking a slow, deliberate breath as the cool, fresh air of the dungeon exit washed over her. The scent of dust and stone mixed with something faintly of grass from beyond.

  Cilian fell into step beside her, moving close enough that the soldiers couldn’t help but cast awkward glances at his proximity. He didn’t acknowledge them, eyes fixed on Xulian as if instinctively protective.

  She caught the look and, despite herself, felt awkward and uneasy. Why is he so close! She picked up her pace.

  Reaching the mouth of the ruins, Cilian’s voice carried, firm and commanding: “Brill, have the units set up a short rest here till the scout unit returns. Keep watch and stay alert. Nothing suspicious yet, but maintain caution."

  Brill nodded sharply and began issuing orders to the nearby soldiers, organizing them efficiently even as the group paused.

  Xulian stepped out of the dungeon and closed her eyes for a moment, lifting her face to the sunlight, letting the warmth and fresh air wash over her. The tension of the dungeon seemed to melt from her shoulders, replaced by the astonishing relief of open air.

  “Finally…” she murmured softly, her gaze roaming over the ruined spires and broken streets of Marlow. The city lay silent but imposing, each broken wall and collapsed tower a reminder of its past glory.

  Cilian stayed close, vigilant, while Xulian inhaled deeply, savoring the sunlight and the small, perfect moment of freedom. Unaware, however, that the energy around her was already beginning to stir.

  A sudden, inexplicable rush of Qi surged through her body, making her chest tighten and her vision flicker. Two system windows popped up side by side before her eyes. One was the familiar blue frame:

  [Breakthrough conditions met]

  The other glowed ominously in red and black:

  [Connection to Heaven established. Initializing…]

  Xulian’s heart skipped a beat. She blinked at the display, and instinctively, the hair on her arms rose. The sky above the ruined city darkened almost immediately, clouds swirling into a violent, churning mass. The sunlight she had been enjoying vanished, swallowed by an unnatural shadow.

  “Oh no… why this trope of all things?!” she whispered in panic. Her voice rose as she turned to Cilian. “Keep back! Everyone—stay away from me! This… this is a Heavenly Tribulation!”

  Soldiers froze in place, uncertainty rippling through the ranks, while Cilian’s eyes widened. “Heavenly… what?”

  “Don’t come closer! It’s dangerous!” she yelled, her voice cutting through the growing roar of wind and gathering Qi. Her eyes flicked across the surrounding buildings, searching for a safe perch.

  With fluid precision, she activated her Void Flower Steps, vanishing in a blur from the ground and reappearing atop a tall, sturdy ruined building. She landed gracefully, cross-legged on the crumbling stone, the Qi from the storm already swirling around her.

  Ok, calm down. You should've expected something like this. Just focus.

  She exhaled slowly, grounding herself, and opened her eyes. The energy thrummed through her dantian, resonating with the Ninefold Verdant Lotus Circulation Sutra she had trained in. Now more than ever, she needed complete focus.

  Cilian moved to the edge of the dungeon exit, maintaining distance but watching her carefully. For some reason, he felt a strange worry well up in his heart, like she might disappear right in front of him. He recalled the panic in her eyes but forced himself to trust her words. So he ordered everyone to stay back, uncertain, but disciplined, everyone kept their distance.

  Xulian closed her eyes and continued her meditation, following the circulation method step by step, refining and condensing Qi in her dantian. Every breath, every flicker of energy was a test, a preparation for the breakthrough that would either elevate her—or consume her if she faltered.

  The storm above raged, lightning flashing through the clouds, wind howling through the skeletal city ruins, but Xulian remained seated, centered, ready to face this challenge. Civilian and the rest looked at her from the dungeon opening, unease stirred in them as an unknown pressure started to envelope the surrounding area.