"Where do we begin?" Mister Black stroked his snowy white beard. "Well, my boy, first things first, I'm going to need you to hold still for a moment. What I am going to do is seal our agreement with a simple mark, which is where I will also dwell for the time being while helping you out. This may feel a bit... odd, but the path of cultivation is one of endurance, right?"

Strong River nodded. The old man's spirit chuckled as he started waving in the air with his arms. Faint glittering symbols coalesced where his hands passed, and in a couple of breaths of time, a full circle of these arcane characters floated in the air in a circle. Mister Black then made a circling gesture around them all, and they were sucked to the center to form a single large runic symbol, one that possessed the same mysterious starry sky like that in his eyes. With a cry, the old man pushed at this rune with both hands, and it launched straight at River.

River didn't even have time to flinch as the rune flew forward and embedded itself in his forehead. It felt cold, imbued with the chill like that of a winter's river or maybe that of the starry void itself. It wasn't necessarily a painful sensation, but neither was it a comfortable feeling at first. River then felt the rune melting into his skin, a flow that warmed up to his body temperature. It left him with a tingling sensation reminiscent of the feeling after one had leaned too long on an elbow or sat too long on a leg.

Mister Black smiled, letting out a breath that ruffled his beard. "And with that, my boy, our covenant is sealed. Oh, and worry not, the seal is spiritual; it would take a very amazing individual to sense that it is there." Mister Black seemed to discern River's most immediate concern about the sealing mark. "Now let me settle in, and we'll begin your training."

Mister Black's robes seemed to swirl as the old man's spirit transformed into a starry mist that leapt back into the copper ring. "Can you hear me now, boy?" the old man queried from a position that seemed to be inside the boy's thoughts rather than any physical location.

"Um, yeah," River responded out loud.

"Aiiie, not so loud my boy," Mister Black protested. "The trick is to think like you're going to speak but don't actually do it. Otherwise, there's an awful echo and people might think you're a little wrong in the head, talking to yourself."

River furrowed his brow a moment, concentrating, before transmitting a thought to the spirit now housed in his head. "Like this, mister?"

"Still a bit loud, my boy, but it'll do. It'll do. Now, in case you've forgotten, you're going to have company returning soon. We should probably cut the chit-chat and get straight to dealing with what you need before they get back."

"That fast?" River felt like an idiot as soon as he transmitted the thought. Of course it was that fast, why else make this sort of deal?

Mister Black's response was a light, merry chuckle. He seemingly knew the boy recognized his error as soon as he made it. "It's okay, my boy. It's okay. First, let's get you standing up. Yes, yes, left foot, right foot, on your feet. There's something nearby that'll be of help."

"But if they come back--"

"Hush, my boy. It's not that far, really. Just turn your head-- no, no, the other way-- and there. See that little pond? Go there."

River followed the old man's directions, spying the afternoon light sparkling on top of the water a short distance away. Approaching it, he could not help but let out a gasp as he spied the treasure there on the verge of the pond: an eight-petaled lotus flower, white petals veined with red on top of a pale, almost fleshy stem.

"Ah, you see it now too," the old man's voice announced. "That, my boy, is a Sanguine-thread Lotus, a treasure herb of the middle Earth rank. If you consume its petals, you could leap over four grades of the Human realm in your physique tempering. But," the old man paused even as River caught himself grabbing for the flower, "we're not going to do it that way because you can do better."

"Better than four grades?" River was astounded but stopped to listen. In his entire life, River had only advanced a single grade in the Human physique tempering realm, reaching the second grade out of the seven there were in it. One grade, but now the old man made it sound like merely climbing over four more grades and reaching the late stage of the Human realm in a single leap was an inferior choice to make!

"Naturally. To best appreciate the Lotus, you shouldn't consume it crassly like it's some vegetable. You must refine it, drawing in its fragrance with your breathing, letting its essence permeate you via the lungs and from there throughout your entire body."

Breathing techniques were, of course, a known quantity in cultivation, it was just that most practitioners never touched on one until they had crossed beyond the Human realm and began opening their meridians to channel essence.

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"Uh, mister..."

"You don't have a breathing technique. Of course, my boy! But that will not be a problem for you."

River frowned. "But do we really have time for me to be learning that sort of thing?"

"Time to learn?" The mirth in the old man's voice was audible. "If you had some rubbish grand master of this world teaching it to you, such a thing might take a month or so if you were a genius. But you've made a deal with Mister Black, your very own spirit sage! I can transmit the method directly, and you can practice it right away! Phaw, screw getting twice the benefits with half the effort, you'll get all of the benefits right away with me!"

And with that declaration, the ring on River's finger warmed. The world went hazy for a couple of breaths of time before the warmth withdrew and clarity returned to his vision.

The Passion Sublimation Technique, it was called. And with the name, River was able to recall the technique from his memory as though he had always known it. A breathing technique that could be practiced during Physique Tempering, the Passion Sublimation Technique not only drew in the essence of the world but could convert emotions and desires into energy that could weaken bottlenecks. It was eminently suitable for refining external energies such as treasures of heaven and earth like the Sanguine-thread Lotus.

River said nothing, but sat down cross-legged in front of the lotus, adopting a meditative pose as he began to circulate his breathing according to the pattern of the technique. Almost immediately he felt a small trickle of energy travel down his throat and swirl around inside his lungs, dissipating to travel along the inner passages of his body.

"Good, good," the old man spoke, his tone a little hushed. "That's the basic energy of heaven and earth you've grasped there. See? It's not so hard when you have the right technique... and the right teacher, naturally. Now, focus on the lotus, close your eyes, circulate the air, and in your mind reach out and embrace the lotus' energy and begin to make it your own..."

River let the almost hypnotic quality of Mister Black's instructions draw him in, obeying each step, and within a moment he felt a new, different, much more abundant source of energy begin to enter his body. The smaller stream of heaven-earth energy intertwined around this new one in his mind's eye, a small gold ribbon running along a large red cord.

The new energy was somehow sharp, the piercing pinprick of a thorn, the drawing of blood, but it was vast and flowed easily throughout his body.

Solidifying the bones, strengthening the muscles, toughening the organs and channels, increasing the density of the blood. All four things were essential to cultivating a physique, needing to be raised in harmony as any one of them becoming too strong or too weak could be fatal. The sharp-red energy increased all these in tandem, and a very soft bubbling and cracking could be heard coming throughout his body as they all improved.

"This is good, very good, but let's get it moving a bit faster with your technique." Mister Black critiqued the process. "Now envision a black hole in your mind, my boy. Not too huge, we don't want to devour all creation, we're just casting away the things that keep you from becoming strong. This hole is where your passions sublimate, and you cast them away to transcend them. Cast into it your grief, your sorrow, your hatred, your fear. Recognize each in turn -- the stronger, the better -- and cast it in as your fuel. The more you put in, the faster the hole's horizon will rotate, and the faster it rotates, the quicker you draw in the external energies."

River did as he was directed. He cast in the grief for Sweet Nectar, the sorrow for what couldn't be, the hatred for Brave Dragon, the fear for what his bandit horde would do, the resentment for the elders of his clan who abused him, the helplessness at being stranded so long without an advancement...

It was as though a dam within River broke, and everything he had bottled up since the passing of his parents poured out and into that black hole. And with the breaking of the dam, River felt another barrier break.

His eyes snapped open, and he looked around. The sun in the sky was an hour's journey lower from where it was when he began. River clutched his hands into fists as he felt a new strength brimming throughout his body. All of his aches from his beating had even been washed away!

"Good, good!" the old man's spirit approved. "You've surmounted the first of many realms. But because you're a bit slower than I anticipated -- not your fault, you've got a lot of catching up to do, of course -- I foresee a slight problem in your immediate future. You only have about another hour, and those two fellows are both experienced fighters at the fourth stage... hmmm..." the old man's voice trailed off as though one entering deep thought.

"Should I run, then? I'm healed up and faster now." River offered.

"No, no... you're not nearly done with this lotus yet, my boy, and it'd be a real shame if they obtained the bulk of the soup while you only got the broth, which is all that you could be said to have gotten thus far. Not to mention, with their resources, they can find your home pretty quickly anyway. The monks can run, but the temple must stay and all that."

River nodded, feeling a bit numb.

"There are ways to surmount stages and even realm of cultivation, but they all come at a cost," the old man warned, sighing. "This is it, my boy, do you really and truly wish to embark on the true path of a cultivator, suppressing demons and gods and defying heaven and earth? To do so requires a ruthless mindset, willing to trample any who get in your way, you know. Kindness to those looking to harm you is cruelty to yourself."

River could find no qualm with what the spirit said, for he felt his bones had been etched with that lesson. "I would be a terrible student to refuse, Mister Black. What do I need to do?"

Mister Black chuckled. "Well, my boy, there is a technique I was planning on teaching you, just not quite this soon. It's going to hurt a bit to learn, and it's not something you'll want to use casually, but we probably have just enough time for you to prepare for it."

Mister Black paused in what could be imagined as him taking a deep breath in preparation. "What I am about to teach you is an awesome art that defies the heavens and allows its user to increase his strength by seizing it from his enemies. It requires you to endure some pain to cultivate its initial layer, but it can bridge the gap in strength, especially against unwary foes. This marvelous technique is named the Blood Devouring Palm..."