Biyun runs across the vast throne chamber, his footsteps echoing against the polished floor as he dashes forward without restraint, passing beneath towering pillars and rushing straight toward the throne as if nothing else in the world matters.
He does not slow.
He climbs the stairs in a blur of motion, his hands brushing against the edges for balance before he leaps upward without hesitation.
He lands directly onto rin’s lap.
rin’s arm lifts instinctively, steadying him with ease, holding him in place as if he had always been there.
“You are still acting like a child,” rin says, his tone calm yet carrying a faint trace of amusent, “when only a couple of years remain before you reach adulthood.”
When rin left, Biyun was only four years old.
Now,
He is fourteen.
At the words, Biyun stiffens slightly, his excitent faltering as he lowers his head, misunderstanding the tone, thinking he has done sothing wrong.
He begins to climb down from rin’s lap.
But rin’s hand tightens gently.
Holding him in place.
Biyun pauses.
“Sorry, father,” he says softly.
rin looks at him.
His expression does not change much, yet there is a subtle warmth beneath it.
“There is nothing to be sorry about,” he says.
“I am only joking.”
The tension fades instantly.
Biyun relaxes.
rin continues, his gaze settling on him with quiet interest.
“I heard you wanted to create a unique Dragon Transformation technique for you.”
Biyun nods imdiately.
Fast.
Repeatedly.
Like a chicken pecking at the ground.
“Yes, I want it,” he says, unable to hide his excitent.
Then,
He hesitates.
The excitent softens.
His voice lowers.
More careful.
“Will you… father?”
rin answers without pause.
“Why not?”
At the sa ti, his spirit expands.
It enters Biyun’s body.
Gently.
Thoroughly.
He observes.
asures.
Understands.
Water.
Earth.
Wood.
Three elental affinities.
Water is the strongest.
Flowing.
Adaptive.
Deep.
Earth follows.
Stable.
Heavy.
Enduring.
Wood is the weakest.
Yet still present.
Growing.
Subtle.
Within rin’s spirit space, the three elents manifest, colliding and intertwining in countless configurations, shifting and rging as new possibilities take shape.
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Different elental combinations form.
New attributes erge.
Each one holds potential.
Each one offers a path.
rin observes them carefully.
Analyzes.
asures.
Yet he does not choose.
He pauses.
Then understands.
This choice,
Cannot be his.
If he decides now, Biyun will follow a path not truly his own.
He will lose the ability to choose.
To explore.
To define his Dao.
And without that,
Sainthood will forever remain out of reach.
So rin changes his approach.
Instead of forcing a new elent into existence,
He will guide.
He will build a foundation.
A thod that deepens understanding.
That allows Biyun to discover his own path.
His own elent.
Within his mind, the three elents take form.
They beco human figures.
Each one holds a spear.
Water.
Earth.
Wood.
All standing in silent readiness.
Biyun likes the spear.
So rin decides.
He will create three spear techniques.
Each one is tied to an elent.
Each one is designed not for imdiate power,
But for comprehension.
For growth.
For the shaping of a path that will one day belong solely to Biyun, rin begins to construct not a single technique, but a foundation upon which countless possibilities may grow.
The first spear technique takes form within his mind.
Water.
He does not begin with an ocean.
He begins with a drop.
A single drop of water, suspended in stillness, carrying within it the quiet truth of accumulation and inevitability.
One drop becos two.
Two beco many.
Until countless drops gather,
And an ocean is born.
The technique begins with the simplest motion.
A thrust.
Direct.
Unadorned.
Yet within that thrust lies endless variation.
As it is repeated, refined, and perfected, Biyun’s spirit will begin to rge with the spear itself, no longer wielding it as a tool, but becoming one with its motion.
With each thrust, he will perceive it,
Not as an attack.
But as a falling raindrop.
Soft.
Precise.
Unstoppable.
From that understanding, he will comprehend the Intent of Rain.
And from that intent,
A field will form.
An ocean born from countless unseen drops.
rin nas it,
The Rain Spear Technique.
The second technique rises.
Earth.
This ti, there is no movent.
Only stillness.
Absolute.
Unshaken.
The foundation of the technique is not in striking, but in enduring.
To stand without moving.
To hold ground against all forces.
To use the smallest motion,
To shift sothing as vast as a mountain.
It is a parry.
A defense.
A redirection.
Not ant to attack, but to deny all attacks.
Within this stillness, Biyun will comprehend the Intent of Rock.
Weight.
Stability.
Immovable will.
And from that,
The field of Earth will erge.
rin nas it,
The Rock Spear Technique.
The third technique unfolds.
Wood.
But not gentle growth.
Not quiet expansion.
Instead,
He takes the mont of snapping.
The recoil of a branch under pressure.
The instant when tension reverses.
Where force is returned.
This is a counterattack.
A technique that does not initiate, but responds.
It absorbs.
Redirects.
Strikes back.
Taking the opponent’s power and turning it against them.
Within this, Biyun will comprehend the Intent of Vitality.
Endless.
Resilient.
Rebounding.
And from that,
The field of Wood will form.
rin nas it,
The Vital Spear Technique.
These three techniques are not ordinary.
Each one stands at the third stage.
Each one, when mastered, allows the formation of a field.
And with that,
The path to the Soul Awakening Stage opens.
rin raises his hand.
Spiritual energy gathers within his palm, condensing into tangible form as golden light weaves itself into structure.
Three books appear.
Their pages shimr like gold, inscribed instantly as words carve themselves into existence.
He hands them to Biyun.
Biyun receives them carefully, his eyes filled with curiosity as he flips through the pages.
“Father,” he asks, looking up, “what is this?”
“Three spear techniques for you,” rin replies.
Biyun pauses.
He stops turning the pages.
Looks at rin again.
“But… Father,” he says, confusion rising in his voice, “I asked for a Dragon Transformation technique.”
rin’s expression remains calm.
“Your three strongest affinities are Water, Earth, and Wood,” he explains evenly.
“If I were to create a Dragon Transformation technique for you, I would combine these three elents to form a unique dragon form.”
Biyun’s eyes brighten slightly.
“Then do it, Father,” he says without hesitation.
rin looks at him.
Steady.
“Son,” he asks, “do you want to beco a Saint?”
Biyun answers imdiately.
“I do.”
Then he hesitates, his brows furrowing as confusion returns.
“But what does that have to do with the Dragon Transformation technique?”
rin speaks plainly.
“If I decide your Dao for you now, then your path will no longer be yours,” he says.
“And when the ti cos, advancing your Dao will beco far more difficult.”
“Reaching Sainthood will beco nearly impossible.”
Biyun’s face tightens with confusion.
He looks down at the books.
Then back at rin.
“But…” he says slowly, trying to understand, “you created Mother’s and Second Mother’s Dragon Transformation techniques.”
rin looks at him calmly, his voice steady and patient, carrying neither pride nor dismissal, but simple clarity.
“I created theirs,” he says, “because they were already one step away from forming their Dao, and what I did only helped them reach it faster.”
He pauses briefly, then continues, choosing an example Biyun can grasp.
“Take your mother,” he says.
“If she had followed my original design completely, the field she would have ford should have been the Field of Wither.”
“But she did not.”
rin’s gaze deepens slightly.
“With her own understanding and exploration of Wither, she altered it.”
“She walked beyond what I gave her.”
“And in the end, she ford a variant, ”
“The Field of White Ash.”
Biyun listens carefully, his confusion slowly giving way to understanding as the aning settles within him.
He nods.
Slowly at first.
Then with more certainty.
“I understand,” he says.
“I need to reach the Sublimation Stage first… then you will create the Dragon Transformation technique for .”
rin inclines his head slightly.
“And,” he adds, “you must also reach minor mastery in these three spear techniques.”
“This will allow to understand which aspect of the three elents you are most suited for.”
Biyun tilts his head slightly, thinking, then asks with genuine curiosity,
“Why only minor mastery?”
“Why not complete mastery?”
rin answers without hesitation.
“If you can completely master them,” he says, his tone calm yet absolute, “then you will already be capable of comprehending your own Dragon form.”
“And at that point, ”
“My help will no longer be necessary.”
For a mont, Biyun is silent.
Then,
His eyes light up.
Bright.
Filled with excitent.
Without another word, he quickly climbs down from rin’s lap, landing lightly on the ground.
“Father, I’m going!” he says eagerly.
Before rin can respond, Biyun is already running, his figure darting across the vast throne chamber once again, his footsteps echoing as he rushes toward the stairs.
In the next mont,
He disappears down them, heading off to begin his cultivation.
Silence returns.
rin’s gaze shifts.
It settles on Ziqi.
“You have advanced,” rin says, his voice carrying quiet acknowledgent.
“Congratulations on reaching the Soul Awakening Stage.”
Ziqi imdiately kneels.
Without hesitation.
Without pride.
“Lord,” he says, lowering his head deeply, his voice firm yet respectful, “I implore you, ”
“Bestow upon a Dragon Transformation technique.”
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