For over half a century, Du Min Gyu guided countless students and a handful of Disciples along the four foundational milestones of the Martial Path. Core Creation, Aura Condensation, Natal Palace Formation, and Domain Development, he successfully guided so many others towards these goals, learning as he taught and refining what he knew until he soon became known as Great Teacher Du. He was a man whose lectures on the Martial Dao could turn a nameless Warrior into a crane amongst chickens, and while he had yet to give rise to a dragon amongst men, many believed it was only because he was too picky about accepting Disciples.

Take his goddaughter, Ryo Da’in for example, who attributed much of her success to his lessons, but he only ever lectured her on theoretical matters like best angles of attack and when to advance or retreat, how to read your opponent and devise a proper counter to their style, things like that. Never once did he show Da’in how to adapt the Forms for her own use or guide her on how to properly utilize and optimize her Chi skills, which he saw as the foundation of her strength. No amount of theory could help a rabbit overcome a lion, and it was clear from her first breath that Ryo Da’in was a dragon born.

Min Gyu had long since come to terms with the fact that much of his reputation was inflated and undeserved. Commoners did so love to hear about the downtrodden overcoming their trials and tribulations, for it gave them hope they might overcome their own, but regardless of what might be, Min Gyu still believed he was a better teacher than most, simply because he was one of the few Martial Warriors who dedicated their efforts towards teaching, rather than self-improvement. It wasn’t difficult to stand out from a small crowd, but since Min Gyu was a man of pride, he went to great efforts to live up to his inflated reputation and become a great teacher in truth, and for a time, he truly believed he’d succeeded.

Until today, when he discovered everything he knew about the Martial Path, everything he’d studied and taught, was inherently wrong, and he couldn’t be more excited to learn more.

Well, ‘wrong’ was not entirely correct, but much of what he ‘knew’ had been built on flawed premises and could be revised and improved. Mentally reviewing young Rain’s notes for the umpteenth time, Min Gyu took his time absorbing and analyzing the fascinating information contained within. Though supposedly written under the influence of Inspiration, he could not take everything as undisputed truth, for the Mother was not one to give things freely. This was not Her way, and instead She guided Her children so that they might discover the correct answer themselves, in hopes they might one day grow strong and independent enough to stand for themselves. In contrast the Father gave freely, but not wholly, feeding twisted half-truths to those poor fools who grovelled at His feet so that He might retain control over his reliant minions.

That was how Min Gyu saw things at least, but Rain was of a different mind. There was no reverence in his notes, no reference to the Divine, only statements backed by verifiable facts or guesses based on his own personal experience. His notes raised many questions and delivered few answers, but it was difficult to argue with his logic, which Min Gyu realized was not the point here. Rain’s findings were not presented as an argument, merely a collection of his personal knowledge and experiences stripped of any religious tones, but despite doing his best to keep an open mind, Min Gyu almost felt obligated to defend his beliefs from what he perceived as an assault. The Martial Path was a Divine miracle, a blessing which allowed humanity to stand tall before the Father’s foul minions, and it was all thanks to the Mother Above. How could Rain not see this and try to make it all about facts and theories?

Was this a test of Min Gyu’s faith? Could Rain be a Demon in human flesh meant to draw him away from the Mother’s embrace? Or had he wasted his whole life living a lie? Or perhaps it was a bit of both and neither at all, and Rain was here doing the Mother’s work, teaching Min Gyu as She once taught humanity. The Enemy was united as one and evolving with each passing day, fielding armies of disciplined, well-equipped, highly trained soldiers in addition to their hordes of savage, bestial auxiliaries, while the Empire’s tactics, strategies, and policies continued to stagnate as it had for centuries before. It was difficult to see malice in Rain’s words or actions, for he had always been a firm believer in progress and distribution of knowledge, and this... demystifying of the Divine was merely a byproduct of his inquisitive nature.

And that nature raised a good question. Why was it necessary for the Martial Path to remain shrouded in mystery? Throughout his career, Min Gyu had always been careful not to divulge too much about the Martial Path to his students, because he’d seen firsthand what happened when Martial Warriors knew too much. Take Natal Palace Formation, for example, which was the demarcating line between common Warrior and Expert of the Empire, a title made solely to obfuscate the milestone behind it. The Natal Palace was simply an inner sanctum, a mental retreat one sought in the deepest throes of meditation, but what made the Natal Palace special was its permanence and realism. Theoretically, every person in the world had complete control over their imaginary inner worlds and could shape anything within at will, but by creating a mental area which remained in perpetuity and followed the laws of the natural world, this allowed Martial Warriors to practice their Chi skills with a modicum of realism without dedicating the majority of their time to replenishing their drained Chi reserves.

The most common issue which arose from too much knowledge of Natal Palace Formation was Martial Warriors claiming false success. Most were not malicious, since those who knew too much about Natal Palaces also knew it was easy to prove the existence of one. All one had to do was memorize the contents of a page in a single glance, and that was usually enough to clear up any doubts, but the human mind was a powerful tool, and mistakes could easily be made. Min Gyu had heard of more than one aspiring Expert whose future was ruined due to a simple mental block. What usually happened was those individuals knew too much and tricked themselves into believing they’d successfully Formed a Natal Palace. Easy to believe when you want to believe, and even easier to celebrate before verifying the entire truth. From there, it was simple enough to imagine the rest, as the humiliation of a false claim was hard to shake, no matter how innocent or mistaken the claim might have been. Then, the fear of failure and the existential dread of a second false success could easily mentally cripple all but the most determined and iron-willed individuals around, and alas, those were few and far between.

The other milestones were even more difficult to explain, and doing so would be no help at all. Knowing an Aura was their sole defence against the palpable and overwhelming killing intent emanating from Demons was all good and well, but that only explained what an Aura did, not what it was, and even that would be of no use. How was someone who had never Condensed an Aura before supposed to understand it was courage made manifest, a divine gift meant to block out the palpable unholiness of an unnatural Demon inhabiting the natural world? The same dilemma was found in Domain Development, because telling someone a Domain was an external expression of your internal Natal Palace did nothing to help Develop one, and might even lead someone astray as they focused on the wrong issues. In its nascent stages, a Domain was unrecognizable as an External Natal Palace, and Min Gyu had heard it best described as a layer of External Chi which covered the Martial Warrior. It was only later on that a Domain took on hints of the Natal Palace, when the Martial Warrior was able to bring more of it out into reality, but even saying this was something of a misnomer, since the external Natal Palace was only visible to the practitioner themself.

For the above reasons and more, Min Gyu had always accepted that the less said about the Martial Path, the better, but now, he was not so sure. This brought to mind something Rain said all those months ago, when Min Gyu and other trusted Peak Experts gathered to try and help Rain find his way. Young Gerel had just finished explaining how the Martial Path was a holy calling, and Rain, in his unique, infuriating way, simply shrugged and said, “Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe the Energy of the Heavens is simply a natural force at work, like how sunlight fuels plant growth or gravity keeps our feet on the ground. We have yet to understand it, but that doesn’t mean it’s utterly incomprehensible.”

And true to form, here he was, treating the Dao as an inviolable rule of nature, for if there were rules, then they could be studied and understood. Who knew what new discoveries might be waiting for them ahead, especially if the boy could solve the mystery of Core Creation or any other milestone? It was admirable how the boy kept his convictions even in the face of so many others telling him to change, but to be fair, Min Gyu and his peers had not exactly been convincing with all their talk of faith, using one indecipherable concept to explain another. That would never satisfy the boy’s curiosity, so of course he spurned their advice, and from the looks of things, he might have been right to, but not for the reasons he believed.

For hidden within these notes was Falling Rain’s faith, one Min Gyu felt was wholly appropriate for someone of his inquisitive nature. The boy claimed he lacked faith, but he was wrong, for he had faith in the intelligence of man, and he believed that it was not strength of arm which reigned supreme, but sharpness of mind. Science and mathematics were his Dao, a Dao of what he could test, quantify, perceive, and evaluate, and it was a Path Min Gyu could understand. The marvels of modern shipbuilding which the boy alluded to had originated from his hometown of Yantai by the sea, and he also saw firsthand how Rain made steps towards rediscovering how the Walls of old were built. Then there was the matter of all the new discoveries he helped pioneer, such as cast iron, clear glass, cheap paper and more, not to mention his innovative business practices such as compound interest, futures contracts, and War Bonds. None of his ideas were particularly strange or inconceivable, and they were only unheard of because Rain was the first to try it, which meant Min Gyu was excited to see where the boy’s new Path might lead. As such, Min Gyu reminded himself that he was not here to argue with the boy about the ‘correct’ Path, but to help guide him along this new one, the core tenets of which were neatly outlined in these thought-provoking notes.

Young Gerel once told Rain, “The Dao is everything, and the Martial Dao is merely the means through which we explore it”, and now Rain had come back with, “Why limit ourselves to the Martial Dao?” Indeed, why limit ourselves at all? Zheng Luo had already proven that the Dao of Music was alive and well, while the Guardian Turtle was living proof of the Dao of Animals, and while she fell short of demonstrating unparalleled Divine Might, it raised the question: what other neglected Paths might there be? It was all so fascinating, Min Gyu could hardly bring himself to focus on the task at hand, which was why he took this time to calm his heart and organize his thoughts. Though this Path was new and unheard of, each Warrior must forge their own, but Min Gyu was well equipped to guide Rain down his Path, this melding of Defiled and Imperial. It was the same as always; the best teachers helped their students arrive at the correct answers on their own, so it didn’t matter if Min Gyu didn’t know the answers himself. All he had to do was to point Rain’s thoughts in the right direction.

Even if he lost sight of his own Path in the process. New waves must overtake the old after all, and there was none more promising than Rain.

Opening his eyes, Min Gyu looked up from the notes sitting in his lap and took in the eager, amber eyes of this most promising young man before him. There he sat, in the grassy courtyard of his manor, with the Divine Turtle on his lap and a rabbit on the cusp of becoming a Spiritual Beast in his arms. There was something in the boy’s demeanour which made him seem older than his years, wholly lacking the callow innocence and hungry ambition of youth. An able minister and courageous hero who cared nothing for wealth or reputation, and if given the choice, the boy would hole up in his mountains and study to his heart’s content while sharing what he learned with anyone and everyone who would listen. There was no one else quite like him, or at least none Min Gyu had ever met or heard of, and he was quite pleased with this filial grandson-in-law who would undoubtedly love little Yan with all his heart.

A shame the boy was so lusty and obsessed with keeping pets, but no one was perfect...

Taking a deep breath, Min Gyu said, “Let us start from the beginning.”

Nodding in answer to the prompt, Rain launched into his explanation without hesitation. “Core Creation.”

“No.” Smiling as he caught the too-clever boy off-guard, Min Gyu asked, “What does Balance mean to you?”

Now it was Rain’s turn to fall silent and contemplate his thoughts, so Min Gyu waited with bated breath. Balance was the linchpin of the Dao, so without a better understanding of how Rain perceived Balance, it would be difficult to progress any further in this discourse of the boy’s Path. “For a long time,” Rain began, hesitant and unsure for once, “I thought Balance was about... good and evil. Take and hold the good emotions, while ridding yourself of the bad.” A common mistake many children make, but one usually quickly corrected. “Then, I was shown that Balance has nothing to do with morality, and has everything to do with... well, everything. Balance in all things, that’s how it goes, right?”

Though the boy looked to him for confirmation, Min Gyu was careful not to give anything away, for his guidance was not yet needed. The boy knew the answer already, else he would have never progressed so far along the Martial Path, so it was merely a matter of putting that answer into words. Seeing no comment forthcoming, Rain returned to his thoughts before repeating the question. “What does Balance mean to me? Balance is... Balance is first and foremost a path to freedom. Without strength, nothing is truly mine, not even my life, so I must be strong to be free, to remain unfettered from conflict and struggle to do whatever I so choose to in accordance with my morals and desires. That’s what Balance means to me, the ability to be true to my self and desires, no matter what others might demand of me.”

There was a bleak certainty to the boy’s tone, and Min Gyu saw in his haunted expression a sorrow and suffering long buried deep. What happened to Rain to hurt him so? Whatever it was, he hid it well, but it still spurred him forward to this very day, pushed him to become the warrior he was. Make no mistake, even with his shattered Core, Falling Rain was a warrior, there was no doubt in Min Gyu’s mind, and now, he finally had an inkling of what drove the boy to seek power. Freedom. Oh what a lofty goal that was, for there were few beings in this world who possessed the sort of freedom Rain yearned for, a fact he already knew, judging by his determined, but pessimistic posture.

Unaware of Min Gyu’s thoughts, Rain continued with his declaration, no longer answering a question, but reaffirming his beliefs. “Balance in all things, but Balance is not about quantifiable effects. You cannot have courage one day and be a coward the next and call this Balance, nor can you set fear against courage on invisible scales and adjust things until it levels out. Charok once told me that fear would not keep me from attaining Balance, but that being controlled by my fear would. I never really understood him before, but I think I do now. Fear will always exist in me, as will anger, hatred, love, and happiness, but to retain Balance, I must master my emotions in a way that allows me to experience them, without succumbing to their whims.” Sighing, Rain closed his eyes and hugged his rabbit close, seeking solace in its warm embrace as others sought solace in the Mother Above. “This doesn’t mean ignoring all my negative emotions and only indulging my positive ones, nor does it mean I should seek out a neutral, equalized state, but rather... I should do as I please, so long as it fits within my morals? No, that’s not right.”

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It was here Min Gyu chose to inject, seizing the opportunity before him. “Why not?” Rain’s eyes opened wide to reveal a troubled mind, so Min Gyu prompted, “Why would that be wrong? Is that not what you seek? The freedom to do as you please?”

“Because...” Furrowing his brow in confusion, the boy fell silent for long seconds before speaking again. “Because it’s... I dunno. It works for one person, but if everyone in existence did whatever they pleased, then there would be chaos and anarchy everywhere.”

“Oh?” Inwardly laughing as he raised an eyebrow in question, Min Gyu asked, “And what is it that keeps you from causing widespread chaos and anarchy?”

“Uh... consequences, I guess.” Shrugging, Rain added, “And morals? But not everyone has the same morals as I do, so this can’t possibly be the right answer.”

“Leaving aside the fact that there is no ‘right’ answer, why must your answer be fit for everyone?” It was rewarding to see the boy pick up on what Min Gyu was trying to say, so he drove the point home. “I asked what Balance means to you, child. The answer differs depending on who you ask, because what is Balanced for one is usually not Balanced for another. We are all unique beings, with unique perspectives, so how can a single answer be fit for us all?”

“...And that is why cultivation means to ‘seek the truth’.” His voice almost a whisper as realization dawned upon him, the light in Rain’s eyes died as he quietly mourned for some unknown reason. “There is no immutable truth, because what is true for one might not be true for another. It’s not about defining the Dao, but rather discovering how you personally fit into it, or more simply, finding your place in the world.” The boy sighed as if he had more to say, but held his tongue and hugged his bunny tight.

The change came so quickly, Min Gyu didn’t understand what went wrong. The boy’s answer was so perfect it almost seemed practised, but somehow, it discouraged him to the point where even the lazing Divine Turtle perked up to offer the boy comfort in the form of an encouraging squeak and an incomprehensible burst of Loving Aura. Taken aback by the sudden change and confusing Aura, Min Gyu stalled and sputtered before finding his voice once more. “Indeed, that was a fine answer, a fine answer indeed.” Knowing he was floundering, he wavered between asking the boy what was wrong or pushing past to let him deal with this private matter alone, Min Gyu finally settled on the former. “Is... there an issue I am unaware of?”

Which gave the boy just enough room to agree without forcing him to reveal all his secrets. Despite knowing so many damning secrets about him, Min Gyu knew Rain, Yan, and the Bekhai were still hiding even more secrets, but he didn’t begrudge them for it. In fact, he almost wished they were more suspicious because he’d certainly done little to earn their trust, and while he knew he would never betray them, it made him wonder if there were other untrustworthy individuals who knew too much.

Flashing a small, sad smile, Rain met Min Gyu’s gaze and said, “Well, I’m pretty sure I don’t actually have a place in this world, because I don’t belong here.”

Despite the mournful, sombre delivery and evident pain in the boy’s eyes, Min Gyu couldn’t help but burst into laughter. Not just a simple bark, but a heaving, wheezing laugh which started in the belly and set his aged body to shaking. Wiping away his tears, Min Gyu gasped and wheezed before finally reining in his laughter, though it was difficult with how hurt and pitiful the boy looked. “I’m sorry,” he said, mussing Rain’s hair with a smile. “I do not mean to make light of your turmoil, but it just caught me off guard. Only a few minutes ago, I marvelled at how mature and wise beyond your years you seemed, only for you to present this... this... youthful dilemma.” Shaking his head, Min Gyu smiled at the boy and said, “We all feel this way at some point in our lives, that we have no place to rest and nowhere to belong, but you could not be more wrong, boy. You are Falling Rain of the Bekhai, and you belong with your family and loved ones. Nothing else matters, not where you were before, or where you will be in the future. This alone should be enough, and if it isn’t, then I believe little Yan will be more than glad to set you straight.”

Min Gyu’s words had a profound effect on the boy, more so than he expected. Eyes filling with tears, Rain nodded, swallowed hard, and said, “Thank you, Grandpa Du. It’s good to know you’re here with us.”

Unused to displays of affection and familial love, Min Gyu mussed the boy’s hair a bit more before sitting back and clearing his throat. “Right, now where were we?” Gesturing for sweet Kishi to come sit in his lap, he spent some time fussing with the growing quin to get his thoughts in order. “Right. Balance. You have a fine grasp of what it means to you, and I have no doubt you will hold to it, so let us move on to Core Creation. What is a Core?”

Similarly having composed himself with help from Mama Bun, the boy nodded and said, “According to the Legate, the Core is the medium through which Martial Warriors harness Heavenly Energy.”

“Do you agree?”

“Well... tentatively, yes, but that’s really more a description of the Core’s function, rather than an explanation of what it is.”

“Then what is a Core?”

“...I don’t really know.”

“Good.” Nodding in approval, Min Gyu smiled at Rain’s confusion and said, “I am glad to see you can admit ignorance, especially to a question there is no widely accepted answer to. The Core simply is. It differentiates Martial Warriors from commoners and allows us to wield the Energy of the Heavens by converting it into Chi. Agreed?”

“Yea, sure.” The boy’s tone said otherwise, and at Min Gyu’s silent urging, he said, “Well, I’m not so sure about the converting bit anymore. See, the Abbot has this whole thing about labels needlessly complicating matters of Heavenly Energy, and I think I agree. Chi and Heavenly Energy are one and the same, a difference without a distinction.”

This too was in the boy’s notes, but it was a point he did not expand upon and Min Gyu did not agree with. “How can there be no difference? There are quantifiable limits to Chi which are too numerous to name here, but you’ve seen them for yourself. In contrast, we know Heavenly Energy allows Spiritual Beasts to create entirely new bodies to inhabit, which is merely the most obvious use of Heavenly Energy we can point to.”

“Mm, the ‘entirely new bodies’ part is another point of contention.” Gesturing at Ping Ping, who took this as an invitation to nip at his fingers, the boy smiled and said, “Keep in mind, there used to be a whole lot more turtle here. Where did all that body mass go? It didn’t just disappear, burn up, or evaporate, so I think a lot of it was used to fuel her transformation.”

“Meaning...” Frowning as he looked down at the silly Divine Turtle, Min Gyu asked, “You think she cannibalized herself?” But that would be sacrilege...

“Err, sort of, but not in the manner you’re thinking.” Stopping to think, Rain breathed out and said, “Oof. Okay, this is gonna be a whole spiel. Have you ever heard of ‘conservation of mass’? Essentially, it’s a principle which states that in any closed system, mass can neither be created nor destroyed.”

After clarifying what the boy meant by ‘mass’ and ‘closed system’, Min Gyu shook his head in vehement disagreement. “Impossible. Your principle is proven faulty by the mere act of eating.”

“No, because the mass remains constant, it simply transforms into energy, which doesn’t have weight but most certainly has mass. It’s like lighting a fire. The wood or fuel is consumed, and ashes are left behind, but not all the wood turned to ash, as some of it was consumed to produce heat and light.” Min Gyu still didn’t entirely understand the concept of mass or how it differed from weight, but he likened it to how wind was formless yet had the ability to exert force, which fit with Rain’s explanation of mass. For now, it was enough to know that mass and weight were different, or so the boy claimed.

“Anyways,” Rain said, getting back to the topic at hand, “That’s the whole purpose of eating, to fuel our bodies and store excess energy in the form of fat and muscle, which we burn off when we exert ourselves. There’s more to it, but that’s the broad strokes as I understand them.” It took some more questions and convincing, but eventually Min Gyu came around to the principle, for it fit well within the scope of Balance, only on a larger scale than he’d ever considered. The boy was full of surprises, and they could have spent weeks exploring this concept of mass, but while Min Gyu intended to return to this sometime in the future, they had to move on for the sake of brevity. “So that’s why I think animals instinctively grow larger without limit, because they’re storing energy in preparation for that final stage.” Shrugging, Rain added, “It’s probably also why Martial Warriors are generally so much bigger than normal people, but we all know there are people who buck the trend like me, Mila, and Yan.”

Even Min Gyu himself wasn’t particularly large, though he still stood head and shoulders above the boy. However, despite the boy’s a logical argument regarding mass and a closed system on the scale of the universe, Min Gyu still wasn’t entirely convinced regarding the matter which sparked this all off, namely that Chi and Heavenly Energy were the same thing. When he pointed this out, Rain smiled and said, “Right, right, but this all ties in together. See, I think Chi becomes less effective because when we gather it into our Cores, we are essentially removing energy from the closed system that is this world around us.”

Though Min Gyu sort of understood what the boy was getting at, he wasn’t entirely sure what this signified. “Even if this is the case, why is it significant?”

“Because we, as Martial Warriors are not wielding Heavenly Energy as a whole, but only a finite amount of it instead.” Shrugging, Rain said, “I don’t have a perfect explanation for it, but the way I see it, it’s the difference between a full gourd and a raging river. They’re both sources of water, but the potential energy in each one is significantly different. We can do less with Chi simply because there is simply less of it, and it’s possible there are certain... I dunno, thresholds or breakpoints for Heavenly Energy to do certain things, like create new bodies. It’d be like trying to bail out a sinking ship with a soup spoon, which at some point simply becomes physically impossible.”

It wasn’t the first time the boy used water as a metaphor, but thus far, the significance seemed to elude him. Not Min Gyu, though he kept this to himself, lest he accidentally send the boy in a self-destructive spiral in search of more metaphors. Min Gyu was guilty of the same crime as well, as his first thought was to liken it to a windmill sitting still in a light breeze. Thinking it through, this led him down a parallel line of thought and he brought it up without thinking. “Perhaps this is another function of an animal’s Spiritual Heart? Not just to facilitate the use of Heavenly Energy, but also to store it in physical form for later use?”

“Oh, I never thought of that. Makes sense though.” Looking down at the Divine Turtle once again, the boy asked, “Does Ping Ping still have a Spiritual Heart?”

At one point, Min Gyu would have said yes, but now he was not certain of anything anymore. “Difficult to tell without testing, and I fear she might not take kindly to being prodded with Honed blades, no matter how gently.”

“Oh Mother in Heaven, is that how you test it? Poor animals.” Giving Mama Bun a kiss, Rain whispered, “I’m so sorry, sweet bunbun. I won’t let that mean Guard Leader test you ever again.”

A clearing throat had Min Gyu and the boy scrambling to their feet and ready to fight until they noticed the aforementioned Guard Leader standing nearby. Infuriating woman, always sneaking about like that, somehow even evading Min Gyu’s attempts to find her with Wind Chi. As far as he could tell, it wasn’t that she avoided his probing bursts of Wind, but that she Concealed herself from them and fooled his senses into believing his Wind Chi continued through her unimpeded. Though theoretically possible since some masters of Concealment could even bump into people and remain unnoticed, Min Gyu had no idea how she managed such a thing and resented her for refusing to discuss it.

Suitably cowed, Rain helped Min Gyu back to his seat before settling down in the grass once again, only for his sweet ‘wifey’ Mei Lin to come bounding off the balcony of her room with the tiny cloud chaser hare in tow. It was said a girl changes eighteen times between childhood and womanhood, but in Min Gyu’s eyes, Mei Lin must have changed thrice that in the time he’d known her. When he first met her at the Northern Wall some four years ago, she was nothing more than an adorable, pig-tailed waif he’d almost overlooked, save for her black hare ears and honeyed skin which marked her as the Medical Saint’s kin. Now, Mei Lin had blossomed into a lovely young woman with enough good cheer and happiness for both her and Rain, which was likely why she held the key to his heart. Try as he might, Min Gyu could not resent the girl for taking the man little Yan loved, because she was most certainly a treasure like none other.

“Hiya Hubby,” Mei Lin called, hugging the boy from behind. “Hi Grandpa Du. Whatcha doing?”

While Min Gyu would’ve simply told her they were discussing the Dao, Rain went to the effort of explaining everything from start to finish while heating up Mei Lin’s breakfast. The veiled Guard Leader had given her permission, so Min Gyu refrained from commenting about possibly ruining the girl’s Martial Path and passed the time playing with Kishi and musing on his own theories of the Animal Path and Emotional Aura. He still kept an ear on Rain’s explanation, just in case he missed something the first time around, but Mei Lin’s response to this highly theoretical topic surprised him, as she listened intently and asked insightful questions which touched on the core of the issues at hand. Eventually, Min Gyu even had to stop playing with Kishi as Rain and Mei Lin’s review went beyond what they’d already discussed, all thanks to Mei Lin’s quick grasp of the concepts and surprisingly insightful replies.

What a mystery, this young and whimsical woman, so talented in Lightening she could match many a Peak Expert in this one task and astute enough to understand intrinsic peculiarities of the Martial Path. “So if a Core is in a different system,” she asked, speaking around a mouthful of scallion egg pancakes while standing atop the Divine Turtle who was happily chasing one end of the girl’s silken scarf, “And the Core sits in the void, does that mean the void normally has no Heavenly Energy? Makes sense, right?”

Min Gyu didn’t follow the leap in logic, but Rain most certainly did. “Huh, I never thought about it like that.” Fending off animals from stealing any of Mei Lin’s sizable first breakfast or Rain’s second, he took a bite out of a meat bun and didn’t speak again until after he swallowed. “That would explain why Chi replenishment is fast on an empty Core, but slow on a full Core. We’re literally gathering Chi in a vacuum which progressively gets filled with Chi.” Stuffing the rest of the meat bun into his mouth, the boy reached for another, a good sign in Min Gyu’s eyes. The boy had a hearty breakfast this morning, eating more than anyone else at the table, and now a few hours later, he was already hungry again. Going by conservation of mass, was this not proof that the energy was being used in some way?

After a long pause, the boy swallowed and said, “Hmm... If the Void has no Heavenly Energy, then maybe that’s why the Spectres are so desperate to break in and turn Martial Warriors into Demons. I mean, as far as I can tell, Spectres hang out in the Void, but they can’t get into anyone’s Core or Natal Palace without an invitation. Why is that? They’re born from negative emotions and Heavenly Energy, so why would they feel at home in the Void?”

“What?” Speaking more sharply than intended, Min Gyu leaned forward and grabbed Rain’s hand before he took another bite. “Born from negative emotions and Heavenly Energy? Explain.”

“Oh, I never told you? See, it all started when Jorani – er, you know Jorani right? The half-rat with a rope weapon? Anyways, he was going through a downward spiral and...”

Hanging onto the boy’s every word, Min Gyu caught a glimpse into a side of the Enemy he’d never even realized existed. Truly, humanity was the bane of their own existence, for without the Spectres and Defiled, the Enemy would have no armies to march with. More than anything, if Spectres were a creation of human emotion, then this lent credence to the boy’s idea of creating a combined Human Path, for now they truly were two sides of the same coin. Despite it all, Min Gyu found that his faith held strong, for everything still fit within the lessons he’d learned. The Father poisoned humanity against the Mother, that was what every child in the Empire was told, and now, Min Gyu understood how He had done it.

Which meant there was hope that maybe, just maybe, they could finally put an end to the cycle of trials and tribulations which came in the form of the Enemy, all thanks to Falling Rain.

Just as Min Gyu was about to clap and cheer, the mysterious Guard Leader came to her feet, leaving most of her breakfast untouched. “Come,” she said, and the manor guards appeared beside her, all armed and ready to fight. “Your father needs you.”

To his credit, Rain didn’t hesitate, though he still found the time to ask, “What happened?”

The Guard Leader didn’t respond, but Min Gyu received a Sending from Nian Zu which cleared things up. “Baatar has been arrested by the Disciplinary Corps,” he said, his heart growing cold as he watched the fires of rage and hatred ignite in Rain’s expression. “By order of the provisional Legate, Yang Jixing.”

Trials and Tribulations aplenty. Though the Enemy stood camped outside the gates, the Empire might well tear itself asunder before the Defiled ever have the chance to breach them...

Chapter Meme