The early morning sun crept over the horizon, casting long shadows across the training grounds. Alex joined the outer disciples, most already deep into their meditation or mid-drill. He exhaled sharply, dropping into a cross-legged position as he began his routine.

Spiritual Qi filled the air, faint but ever-present. Around him, some disciples sat perfectly still, their faces calm as they absorbed the energy with apparent ease. Others practiced their stances or sparred, sweat gleaming on their brows as they pushed their bodies to transform the gathered energy into Body Qi.

For Alex, the process was as grueling as ever. The seniors had emphasized the steps repeatedly: absorb the Spiritual Qi, exert yourself physically to transform it into Body Qi, and use that energy to advance in the Body Tempering Realm. Yet, no matter how he tried, the Spiritual Qi seemed to slip through his grasp, his body refusing to respond the way it should.

With a frustrated sigh, Alex stood and moved toward one of the open sparring dummies. His strikes were slow and deliberate at first, each punch forcing his muscles to work harder, burning with effort. Sweat dripped down his face as he continued, the rhythm steady and unrelenting.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Alex paused, his chest heaving. A faint warmth spread through his body—small, almost imperceptible, but unmistakable. The beginnings of Body Qi. It wasn’t much, but it was progress.

Glancing toward the other disciples, Alex noticed how far ahead they were. Their skin carried a faint glow, the hallmark of nearing the peak of Skin Hardening. His progress, though present, felt painfully small by comparison.

Clenching his fists, Alex whispered to himself, “One step at a time.”

By the time the midday sun filtered through the ash trees, Alex found himself seated with Arlyn and Teresa. Arlyn leaned casually against the trunk, twirling a twig between her fingers, while Teresa sat cross-legged, absently flicking pebbles into the dirt. The exhaustion of the morning’s training clung to all of them, but their shared company provided a small reprieve.

“You’re looking better out there,” Arlyn said, her grin bright and teasing. “I saw you working on the dummy earlier. Your punches actually looked like punches this time.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Alex muttered, brushing a hand through his damp hair. “Still feels like I’m years behind everyone else.”

“Progress is progress,” Arlyn said, her tone unwavering. “Just keep moving at your own pace, and you’ll get there eventually catch up.”

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Teresa scoffed, her expression hard to read.

Alex glanced between them, sensing the tension that often crept into Teresa’s responses. Hoping to change the subject, he asked, “What about you two? How’s your progress?”

Arlyn’s face lit up with a grin. “Pretty good, actually. I think I’m close to reaching the peak of Skin Hardening.”

Teresa’s pebble stilled mid-flick. Her smirk faltered, fading into something more subdued, though her voice remained steady. “That’s good,” she said, her tone carrying a muted edge.

Alex didn’t miss the way Teresa’s gaze flicked toward Arlyn before dropping back to the ground. The air grew heavier, and for a moment, silence settled over them.

“What about you, Teresa?” Alex asked carefully, his voice soft to avoid poking at the tension. “How’s it going for you?”

Teresa exhaled slowly, the corner of her mouth twitching upward in a faint, humorless smile. “Same old, same old,” she admitted. “But hey, what are you gonna do? That’s life.”

Her words carried a quiet bitterness that Alex hadn’t noticed before. She glanced at Arlyn again, her expression unreadable, before standing abruptly and brushing off her robes.

“I’ve got more training to do,” she said, her tone clipped. “Catch you two later.”

Alex watched Teresa walk away, her departure leaving a strange silence in her wake. For a moment, he thought of calling out to her, but the look on her face stopped him.

Later that afternoon, Alex returned to the training grounds, his mind weighed down by his slow progress. Determination and frustration churned within him as he pushed himself harder during his drills. Each strike was faster, each movement sharper, as if effort alone could close the growing gap between him and his peers.

Sweat soaked his shirt, and his arms trembled from exertion. Finally, in a moment of sheer frustration, he slammed his fist into the ground, the sharp sting in his knuckles grounding him.

“Having a moment?”

Alex looked up to see Teresa standing nearby, arms crossed. Her tone was dry, but there was a faint hint of concern in her eyes.

“I just…” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It feels like no matter how hard I try, I’m just stuck.”

Teresa’s expression softened slightly as she walked over and sat down beside him. “You’re not the only one.”

Alex hesitated, glancing at her. “But… you’ve already made it further than I have.”

Teresa let out a low, humorless laugh. “Further? You think being stuck in Muscle Conditioning for years feels is a achievement? I’m spinning my wheels, Alex.”

Her voice hardened slightly, though her tone remained measured. “And then there are people like Arlyn, moving forward like it’s nothing, while the rest of us are left scrambling to catch up.”

Alex hesitated, her words striking closer to home than he wanted to admit. He stayed quiet, sensing the weight behind her frustration and realizing how deeply her stagnation had affected her.

Teresa exhaled slowly, her gaze dropping to the ground. “Look, I’m not saying you should give up. Just… don’t expect too much, or you’ll end up disappointing yourself.”

For a moment, her voice wavered, and Alex thought he saw something fragile behind her sharp words. “The sooner you accept this, the less it’ll hurt in the future,” she added before brushing off her robes and walking away.

That evening, Alex meditated beneath the ash tree, his body still sore from the day’s efforts. The sting of Teresa’s words lingered in his mind, gnawing at the edges of his resolve.

He steadied his breathing, pushing everything else aside—the pain, the doubts, the bitterness. The faint traces of Spiritual Qi felt distant, elusive, but Alex refused to give up.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours, and then, like the first crack of light through a storm, warmth flickered beneath his skin.

It wasn’t much, just the faintest stirrings of Body Qi moving sluggishly through him. But in that fragile moment, it felt like a small victory, like the first step out of an endless pit.

A small smile tugged at his lips, tentative but genuine. “It’s not much,” he whispered, “but maybe it’s enough to keep going.”