The old man led Raizen deep into the forest, far beyond where sunlight touched the ground. They walked for hours in silence, winding through dense thickets and crossing mist-covered streams. At last, they came to a clearing where a single, ancient tree stood. Its massive roots twisted across the ground like sleeping serpents, and its trunk was wider than any Raizen had ever seen. Beneath its gnarled branches, the air felt heavier — as if the tree itself was alive and watching.
"This will be your training ground," the old man said, setting down a small leather pack he had carried over his shoulder.
Raizen glanced around, uneasy. There was nothing here — no weapons, no buildings, no signs of any cultivation tools. Just the tree, the earth, and the cold, damp air.
The old man noticed his confusion and chuckled quietly. "You expect grand halls and shining swords? Cultivation begins not with weapons, but with the body and the spirit."
He motioned for Raizen to sit.
Reluctantly, Raizen obeyed, crossing his legs awkwardly on the ground. The old man sat across from him, moving with the slow, deliberate motions of someone who had lived many years and survived many dangers.
"Listen well, Raizen," the old man began. "The world you knew — the simple life of farming and fishing — is but a thin layer covering a much deeper reality. Beyond the forests and rivers lie powers ancient and vast. The demons that destroyed your home are only a small piece of that great darkness."
Raizen clenched his fists, his jaw tight.
"I will teach you the path of cultivation," the old man continued. "But understand this — true strength comes from harmony, not hatred. You must master your body, your mind, and your spirit. Only then can you wield the forces that shape this world."
He closed his eyes and placed his palms together. "The first lesson is Stillness. Until you can still your heart, you cannot command the energies around you."
Raizen frowned. Stillness? He had come seeking power, not meditation. His heart raged with fire — how could he possibly be still?
Sensing his frustration, the old man opened one eye and smiled knowingly. "The greater your rage, the harder this will be. That is why you must master it."
He instructed Raizen to breathe deeply — slow, steady breaths, in and out. At first, Raizen struggled. His mind kept flashing back to the attack, to his parents' broken bodies, to the burning homes. Each time he tried to focus, his anger pulled him away.
Hours passed.
The old man said nothing, only occasionally correcting Raizen's posture or reminding him to breathe.
As night fell, Raizen's body ached from sitting, but something within him had shifted. For brief moments, his thoughts had slowed. For fleeting seconds, he had touched something beneath the pain — a calmness he didn't know he still possessed.
The old man finally spoke as the stars appeared above them. "You did well for your first day. Tomorrow, we begin sensing Qi — the life energy that flows through all things."
Raizen opened his eyes, feeling strangely exhausted yet lighter, as if a heavy burden had been slightly lifted from his chest.
He realized something important then: revenge would require more than anger. It would require patience, discipline, and strength far beyond anything he had ever known.
As he lay down on the cold earth, staring up at the vast sky, Raizen made a silent vow:
I will master this path. No matter how long it takes. No matter how hard it is. I will become strong enough to make them pay.
And in the darkness, under the watchful gaze of the ancient tree, Raizen's journey of cultivation truly began.