The days that followed were grueling.
From sunrise to well past nightfall, Raizen trained.
The old man, whose name he finally learned was Master Kaelen, was relentless. Every morning began with meditation by the pond, where Raizen practiced sensing and drawing in Qi, nurturing the tiny ember within him. And when his mind wavered or his emotions stirred too much, Master Kaelen would strike him lightly with a cane, barking:
"Still your heart, boy! Chaos within brings ruin without!"
After meditation came physical training — running barefoot across rocky trails, lifting stones heavier than he thought possible, practicing stances until his legs trembled and he collapsed from exhaustion. Kaelen taught him how body and spirit must grow together: strengthening one without the other was building a blade with no handle.
In the evenings, after his body screamed for rest, Raizen was made to sit and refine Qi into his dantian — the core within his lower abdomen where all cultivators stored their power. Each time he succeeded, even a little, the ember inside him grew brighter, hotter.
But progress was slow, and frustration gnawed at him.
One night, after hours of failed attempts to gather Qi, Raizen threw a stone across the clearing, cursing under his breath.
Kaelen, who had been silently observing, spoke at last.
"You seek strength like a starving man seeks bread. Desperate. Blind."
He pointed at Raizen's chest.
"The river of life will not come to you in anger. If you wish to forge your strength, you must be patient, like the mountain that endures storms without crumbling."
Raizen clenched his fists. "But I don't have time to be patient! The demons—"
Kaelen's gaze sharpened. "You think you are the only one who has lost everything? You think the world will pity your pain and gift you power?"
He leaned closer, voice hard.
"Strength must be earned, Raizen. Bought with blood, sweat, and time. If you cannot accept that... you will die long before you face even a lesser demon."
The words stung, but deep inside, Raizen knew they were true.
He bowed his head. "I understand, Master. I will not waste this chance."
Kaelen nodded, and the two returned to their silent training.
—
The next day, Raizen was tasked with something different.
"Today, you hunt," Kaelen said, handing him a short iron spear — heavy and unbalanced compared to the elegant weapons Raizen had imagined wielding one day.
"There is a creature in these woods," Kaelen continued. "A Shadowfang — drawn to your awakening spark like moths to a flame. It will come for you eventually. Better to find it on your terms."
Raizen swallowed hard but accepted the spear without hesitation.
Armed only with the weapon and his fragile control over Qi, he ventured alone into the deeper forest.
The woods felt different now — alive in ways he had never noticed before. He could feel the hum of energy in the roots beneath his feet, the branches overhead, even the creatures hiding in the shadows.
But there was something else too... a wrongness, like a rotting stench carried by the wind.
Raizen followed that feeling.
Hours passed, the forest growing darker and thicker.
Suddenly, from the thicket ahead, a pair of gleaming yellow eyes appeared.
The Shadowfang.
It was larger than any wolf Raizen had ever seen, its body unnaturally thin, almost skeletal, with black fur that seemed to melt into the darkness. Its teeth were long and jagged, its tongue flickering hungrily.
The beast growled — a low, vibrating sound that set Raizen's every instinct screaming at him to run.
But he stood his ground.
He planted his feet, steadying his breath the way Kaelen had taught him.
He focused on the ember within — called to it, drew strength from it.
The Shadowfang lunged.
Raizen barely dodged, feeling claws slice the air where he had been moments before. He thrust with the spear, clumsily, grazing the beast's side. It howled, whirling back toward him, faster and angrier.
Calm, Raizen told himself.
Still your heart.
As the beast charged again, he sidestepped, channeling the tiniest thread of Qi into his legs. His movement was sharper, swifter — the spear struck true this time, piercing the creature's shoulder.
The Shadowfang shrieked, snapping at the shaft of the weapon.
Raizen gritted his teeth and drove the spear deeper, pushing with every ounce of strength he had.
With a final, agonized yelp, the beast collapsed, shuddered, and lay still.
Raizen stumbled back, chest heaving, blood pounding in his ears.
His body was battered, his hands raw, but he had won.
He had faced death — and survived.
From the shadows, Master Kaelen emerged, arms crossed, a rare look of approval on his face.
"You fought well," he said simply.
Raizen looked down at the lifeless beast and realized that the world was forever changed for him now. He was no longer just the boy who had fled the burning village. He was something more — the first steps of a warrior.
And this was only the beginning.
---