Dawn broke cold and gray over the ruins of Emberhold.

  Jin Xiao stood at the edge of what had once been the kingdom's main gate, now little more than blackened pillars jutting from cracked earth like broken teeth. His meager possessions hung from his shoulders: a worn travel pack, his sword, and the battered royal guard armor he still wore. Everything else was ash.

  He'd spent most of the night scavenging and tending to his wounds. Sleep had been impossible, so he'd put the restless hours to use. The cuts on his arms and shoulder from Ryze's blade had needed cleaning and binding with scraps of cloth torn from salvaged garments. A water skin from the guard barracks, miraculously intact beneath a collapsed beam. A small pouch of dried rations from the pantry cellars, protected by fallen stone. A flint and steel. A thin blanket, singed at the edges but serviceable.

  Basic survival tools for a journey he could barely comprehend.

  Jin turned and looked back at the ruins one final time. His eyes found the scorched patch of earth near the courtyard's center, barely visible from this distance but burned into his memory nonetheless.

  He walked to it.

  The ground was cold now. Whatever heat had lingered from Elder Yang's technique had long since faded. Jin knelt and pressed his palm flat against the blackened stone, feeling nothing but rough texture and morning chill.

  "Father," he whispered. "Uncle Qiu. Everyone who fell here."

  He closed his eyes. The words came slowly, dragged up from somewhere deep in his chest.

  "I don't know if I can do what you'd want me to do. I don't know if I'm strong enough to avenge you, or wise enough to know what that even means." His voice cracked slightly. "But I'm going to try. I'm going to find out what's sealed inside me, and I'm going to get stronger. And someday, I'm going to make House Valerian answer for this."

  He opened his eyes and looked at the scorched earth.

  "I swear it."

  The pendant pulsed warm against his chest. Jin didn't know if that was acknowledgment or just coincidence. He chose to believe the former.

  He rose, shouldered his pack, and turned his back on the only home he'd ever known. Each step northward felt like tearing away a piece of himself, but he forced his legs to keep moving. Looking back would only make it harder.

  The road north from Emberhold was empty. No merchants, no travelers, no soldiers. Word of the kingdom's destruction must have spread quickly. Jin was grateful for the solitude. He wasn't ready to face questions, to endure sympathetic stares, to encounter those who might recognize his armor and wonder why a royal guard had survived when so many others hadn't.

  The thought made him glance down at his chest. The royal guard insignia was still visible beneath the dirt and dried blood. He'd need to do something about that eventually. But not yet. Not until he was further from the ruins.

  He walked for perhaps an hour before the pendant grew warm again.

  "You're brooding."

  Jin didn't break stride. "I'm walking."

  "You can do both, apparently." The old man's form shimmered into existence beside him, translucent in the morning light. "I can feel it through the pendant. Guilt, grief, self-recrimination. It's exhausting."

  "My entire world burned down yesterday. What do you expect?"

  "I expect you to keep moving forward. Which you are, so that's something." The old man floated alongside him, arms crossed. "But wallowing in misery while you walk won't make the journey any shorter or the destination any closer."

  Jin's jaw tightened. "I'm not wallowing. I'm... processing."

  "Is that what you call it?" The old man's tone carried a hint of mockery. "Tell me, boy, why are you walking north?"

  "Because you said there's an academy. A place where I can get stronger."

  "Those are facts. I asked for reasons." The old man moved in front of Jin, floating backward while maintaining eye contact. "Why do you want to get stronger? What drives you forward?"

  "Revenge." The word came out hard and immediate. "House Valerian destroyed everything. They need to pay."

  "Better." The old man nodded slightly. "And after you've somehow achieved this revenge? After you've killed every Valerian you can find? What then?"

  Jin opened his mouth to answer, then stopped. He hadn't thought that far ahead. The revenge consumed every other consideration, left no room for what might come after.

  "I don't know," he admitted.

  "At least you're honest about it." The old man's form drifted back to Jin's side. "Rage and grief will carry you far, boy. Farther than you might imagine. But they won't carry you all the way. Eventually, you'll need something more. A purpose beyond destruction."

  "I'll figure that out when I get there."

  "Will you?" The old man's eyes were sharp. "Or will you become nothing more than a weapon pointed at a single target, useless once that target is gone?"

  Jin didn't have an answer for that. The old man seemed to accept his silence.

  "Think on it," the apparition said. "We have a long journey ahead. Plenty of time for contemplation." He paused, studying Jin with those unsettling eyes. "In the meantime, we should discuss your training."

  "Training?"

  "You didn't think I'd let you walk for days without improving yourself, did you?" The old man's expression shifted to something almost resembling a teacher's focus. "Your father taught you the basics of cultivation. Breathing techniques, meditation, channeling energy into strikes. But you said yourself that your knowledge is limited. I intend to expand it."

  Jin felt a flicker of interest despite his exhaustion and grief. "You said you could help me unseal my attribute."

  "I said I could help you access what's been locked away. That's not something that happens in a day." The old man shook his head. "First, we need to establish proper foundations. Your qi circulation is adequate for a 2nd rate martial artist, but adequate won't close the gap between you and House Valerian."

  "Then what do I need to do?"

  "Start by telling me what you know about internal energy circulation."

  Jin considered. "The dantian is the core. The wellspring of internal power, located below the navel. Qi flows from there through the meridians, the pathways throughout the body. We can channel it into our muscles to enhance strength, into our limbs to increase speed, into our strikes to add power."

  "Basic but accurate." The old man nodded. "And how do you circulate your qi currently?"

  "During meditation, I focus on the dantian and draw the energy outward. During combat, it happens more instinctively. I push qi into whatever needs enhancement in the moment."

  "Instinct." The old man said the word like it tasted bad. "Instinct is what gets martial artists killed. Proper circulation should be constant, deliberate, controlled. Not something you fumble for when danger appears."

  "Captain Hu said instinct was valuable in combat."

  "Captain Hu was right, for combat. But instinct alone won't help you grow stronger." The old man's form solidified slightly. "Tell me, can you circulate your qi right now? While walking?"

  Jin frowned. He'd never tried. Meditation required stillness, focus, the absence of distraction. Walking was the opposite of that.

  "I don't know."

  "Then try."

  Jin slowed his pace and closed his eyes. He reached inward, searching for the familiar warmth in his lower abdomen. It was there, faint but present. He tried to draw it upward, to circulate it through his meridians as he did during meditation.

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  The energy moved sluggishly. Every step disrupted his concentration, sent the qi scattering back toward his core. Sweat beaded on his forehead from the effort.

  "You're forcing it," the old man observed. "Treating it like a muscle to be flexed. Internal energy responds to will, not force. Guide it, don't shove it."

  Jin tried again, softening his mental grip. The qi responded slightly better, trickling upward through his spine in fits and starts. But it felt weak. Thin. Like water trying to flow through clogged pipes.

  "It's not working properly," he said through gritted teeth.

  "No, it isn't." The old man's tone was matter-of-fact. "Your energy is blocked. The seal on your attribute is interfering with natural flow. Until we address that, your circulation will always feel incomplete."

  Jin's eyes snapped open. "Then why have me practice at all?"

  "Because you need to learn the technique regardless. When we do unseal your attribute, you'll need proper circulation to control it. Better to build the foundation now than scramble later." The old man floated ahead of Jin, still facing him. "Besides, even blocked circulation is better than no circulation. Keep practicing. Make it habit. Eventually, it should become as natural as breathing."

  Jin resumed the exercise, trying to maintain the qi flow while walking. It was difficult, requiring constant attention. Every time his focus slipped, the energy scattered. Every time he concentrated too hard, it refused to move at all.

  "Think back," the old man said after several minutes of Jin's struggling. "During your fight with that Valerian brat. When I told you to circulate your qi. What did that feel like?"

  Jin's mind went back to the courtyard. The terror, the desperation, Ryze's blade descending toward his neck.

  "I didn't have time to think about it," he said slowly. "I just did it. You said to circulate, and I... I pushed the energy through my meridians without questioning how."

  "And then?"

  "The pendant grew warm. Something changed. I felt faster, lighter." Jin's brow furrowed. "There were sparks. White sparks on my arms."

  "That was your sealed attribute responding to proper circulation under extreme duress." The old man's eyes gleamed. "The seal cracked, just for a moment. Enough for a sliver of your true power to slip through."

  "Can I do it again?"

  "That's what we're going to find out." The old man gestured at the road ahead. "Keep walking. Keep circulating. And try to remember that feeling. The desperation, the clarity, the absolute need to move or die. Your attribute responded to that. Perhaps it will respond again."

  Jin tried. For the next hour, he walked and circulated and tried to recapture the sensation from the courtyard. The terror of Ryze's blade. The certainty of death. The voice telling him to circulate his qi.

  Nothing happened.

  His energy moved through his meridians, slow and blocked and frustrating. No warmth from the pendant. No sparks. No sense of anything awakening.

  "It's not working," Jin said finally, frustration bleeding into his voice.

  "Of course it isn't." The old man sounded unsurprised. "You're trying to manufacture desperation while walking down an empty road. The mind knows the difference between true danger and imagination."

  "Then how am I supposed to access my attribute?"

  "Through proper unsealing, which requires time and preparation. Or through genuine life-threatening circumstances that force the seal to crack." The old man's expression was unreadable. "One of those options is more controlled than the other."

  Jin didn't like either option, but he understood the point. His attribute had only manifested when he was about to die. He couldn't fake that level of danger.

  "So I just keep practicing circulation until you're ready to unseal it?"

  "You keep practicing circulation because it's fundamental to everything else. The unsealing will happen when conditions are right." The old man's form began to flicker. "For now, focus on what you can control. Your breathing. Your form. Your awareness of the energy within you."

  They walked in silence for a while after that. Jin continued the circulation exercises, growing slightly more comfortable with maintaining the qi flow while moving. It still felt blocked, incomplete, but the technique itself was becoming easier.

  The landscape remained harsh as they traveled. The Kingdom of Fire had been built in the desert region of the Central Plains, and the terrain reflected that: dry earth, sparse vegetation, rocky outcrops baking under the sun. But now the desolation felt different. Heavier.

  Jin passed the first village around midday.

  Or what had been a village.

  Blackened foundations. Collapsed walls. The same scorched earth he'd seen in Emberhold, repeated on a smaller scale. No bodies visible, but the smell lingered. Smoke still rose from distant points on the horizon, thin columns marking other settlements that had met the same fate.

  The massacre hadn't been limited to the capital.

  House Valerian had destroyed everything.

  Jin walked faster, jaw clenched, not allowing himself to stop and search the ruins. There was nothing he could do for the dead. Nothing except survive and grow stronger.

  The world hadn't ended. But his world had. Every village, every town, every life that had existed under the Kingdom of Fire's banner. All of it gone.

  It was late afternoon when the old man suddenly went still.

  Jin noticed immediately. The apparition had been floating alongside him for hours, occasionally offering corrections to his circulation technique. Now he hung motionless in the air, his translucent form rigid with attention.

  "What is it?"

  "Quiet." The old man's voice was sharp. His eyes were focused on something in the distance, something Jin couldn't see.

  Jin's hand moved to his sword hilt. He extended his senses as Captain Hu had taught him, trying to feel for disturbances in the surrounding area. But he detected nothing. The road ahead looked empty. The rocky outcrops on either side showed no signs of ambush.

  "I don't sense anything," he said quietly.

  "You wouldn't. Your range is pitiful, perhaps five or six paces at most." The old man's eyes narrowed. "But I can feel it. Ahead, where the road passes through that narrow canyon. There's a disturbance."

  Jin squinted at the tree line in the distance. It was perhaps half a li away, maybe more. He couldn't imagine sensing anything from that far.

  "What kind of disturbance?"

  "Violence." The old man's form solidified slightly. "Multiple qi signatures, all weak. 3rd rate, maybe low 2nd rate. And fear. I can taste the fear from here."

  "Bandits?"

  "Most likely. With the kingdom destroyed, there's no one to patrol these roads anymore. Scum always rises when order collapses." The old man turned to face Jin directly. "This could be useful."

  Jin's grip tightened on his sword. "Useful how?"

  "You want to access your sealed attribute. I told you it responds to genuine danger." The old man's expression was calculating, not cruel, but utterly pragmatic. "Here is genuine danger. Opponents weak enough that you should survive, strong enough that the threat is real."

  "You want me to fight them."

  "I want you to test yourself. There's a difference." The old man floated closer. "During the siege, you killed. But that was chaos, survival instinct, no time to think or learn. This is different. This is controlled. This is an opportunity to see how you perform in real combat, and perhaps to push your sealed attribute toward awakening."

  Jin thought about it. The old man wasn't wrong. He needed combat experience. He needed to understand his limits. And if there were bandits ahead preying on travelers...

  "Who are they attacking?"

  "Does it matter?"

  "Yes."

  The old man studied him for a moment. "I don't know. Someone on the road, presumably. A merchant, a traveler, someone unlucky enough to pass through lawless territory without protection."

  Jin made his decision. He started walking toward the tree line, his pace faster now, his hand still on his sword.

  "What are you doing?" the old man asked, floating alongside.

  "If there are people being attacked, I'm going to help them."

  "Heroics will get you killed."

  "Maybe." Jin's jaw was set. "But I watched my entire kingdom die while I was helpless to do anything. I'm not going to walk past people in danger just because it's safer to ignore them."

  The old man was silent for a moment. Then, unexpectedly, his expression shifted to something that might have been approval.

  "That's the first thing you've said today that sounds like purpose rather than vengeance." He moved ahead of Jin, scouting the path. "Very well. But we do this intelligently. You approach carefully, assess the situation, and don't engage until you understand what you're facing. Rushing in blind is how corpses are made."

  Jin nodded. That much, at least, Captain Hu had drilled into him.

  As they drew closer to the canyon, the old man provided updates on what he sensed. Five hostiles, all armed. Two with weak qi signatures suggesting low-level training, the others just thugs with no real cultivation. And two victims: an old man and a young woman, their fear radiating like heat from a fire.

  "The two with training will be your real challenge," the old man said as Jin slipped off the main road and behind the rocky outcrops. "3rd rate, probably. Maybe one low 2nd rate. The others are nothing to a trained martial artist like yourself."

  "What about my sealed attribute?"

  "Focus on survival first. If your attribute awakens during combat, you'll know. If it doesn't, you'll have to win without it."

  Jin crept along the canyon wall, moving as Captain Hu had taught him. Quiet steps. Low profile. Using boulders for cover. The sounds of violence grew clearer as he approached: rough voices, a woman's pleading, the crash of something being overturned.

  At the edge of a large boulder, he paused and peered around it.

  And saw exactly what the old man had described.

  Five men surrounded an overturned cart on the canyon floor. An elderly driver lay on the ground, either unconscious or dead. A young woman was backed against the rock wall, her face pale with terror as one of the bandits advanced on her.

  Jin's blood ran cold, then hot.

  This wasn't just crime. This was the same casual cruelty he'd witnessed in Emberhold. The strong preying on the weak. The powerful doing whatever they wanted to the powerless.

  His hand tightened on his sword.

  "Easy," the old man warned in his mind. "Assess first. Feel their qi. Understand what you're facing."

  Jin tried to extend his senses as he'd been practicing. The range was pitiful, just as the old man had said. But he could feel something from the closest bandits. Rough, unrefined energy. Nothing like the smooth qi flow of a trained martial artist.

  Except one.

  One of the bandits, a scarred man with a spear who seemed to be giving orders, felt different. His qi was denser, more refined than the others. Similar to Jin's own.

  "The leader is the same cultivation level as you," the old man observed. "2nd layer, 2nd rate. The rest are 3rd rate thugs. They can enhance their bodies with qi, make themselves stronger and faster than normal men. But they have no real technique, no training. Against someone with your background, they're obstacles, not threats."

  Jin studied the scene, planning his approach. Five against one. Four he could handle. But the leader was his equal in cultivation.

  "He might have an advantage if he uses his element to enhance his body," the old man said, reading Jin's hesitation. "But you have something he doesn't. Royal guard training. Proper technique. Discipline." He paused. "And if you can replicate that feeling from before, if your attribute awakens during the fight, you'll have more than enough to finish him."

  Jin nodded slowly. That made sense. Cultivation level wasn't everything. Captain Hu had drilled that into him countless times. A skilled martial artist could defeat a stronger but untrained opponent.

  He drew his sword slowly, silently. The blade caught a sliver of afternoon light.

  He thought of his father. Of Captain Hu's teachings.

  Then he burst from cover.