Malachi's punch hit Demeris hard, making him fall down. Without mercy, Malachi kept kicking Demeris while he was on the ground.

Suddenly, Malachi stopped the assault, his fierce gaze fixed on the fallen Demeris. "Consider this a warning," he declared with a menacing tone. "From now on, you hand over your wages to me, Malachi, whenever you get paid. Got it?" The demand lingered ominously, a malevolent ultimatum hanging in the air.

Malachi then eft, but not before hitting him a few more times. Demeris was on the ground, finding it really hard to breathe, and his ribs might be broken. Malachi, who was bigger and stronger, used his Qi to make his hits even stronger. Demeris didn't know how to use his own Qi to protect himself, which made the situation worse.

On the ground, Demeris struggled, hurt and gasping for air. Malachi's last kicks made everything more painful. Demeris felt small compared to Malachi, who seemed like a giant. It made him feel even more helpless on the cold ground.

In this tough moment, Demeris realized he needed to learn how to defend himself. Malachi's departure left him in pain. The ground beneath him felt colder as he tried to gather strength, vowing to find a way to protect himself from future attacks. Determined but hurting, he hobbled back to his assigned quarters. Every step brought back the pain from the beating he got. His whole body hurt, turning a simple walk into a really tough trip. He wanted to cry, but he held back the tears, trying to stay strong.

As Demeris walked towards the beds, he saw Ronan, a short and stout fellow servant, right by his bed. Ronan couldn't help but notice Demeris' tired and bruised appearance, and with a concerned smile, started chatting.

"Whoa, Look at you. You’re all beaten and bruised. What happened, man?" he asked.

Demeris, wincing at each word, replied, "Malachi happened. Left me with some bruises and a lot to think about."

Ronan, dramatically clutching his chest: "Oh my! Malachi? That guy's a walking tornado, man. I'm Ronan, by the way. Pleasure to meet you."

Demeris, nodded appreciatively, the physical strain evident on his face: "Thanks, Ronan. Any advice on dealing with Malachi? I’m new here. I’m Demeris by the way."

Ronan, snapping his fingers in exaggerated contemplation: "Oh, you better believe it! Malachi's like a stray cat with a bad attitude. If I were you, I'd dodge him every time. You see his shadow, you run. Dude's got issues, and nobody cares enough to sort him out."

Demeris felt a strong resolve. Though he couldn't alter everything, he could certainly control his approach. While Ronan continued chatting, Demeris realized that, given his current inability to confront Malachi directly, focusing on harnessing his Qi for speed would be crucial. This way, if he ever crossed paths with Malachi again, he aimed to be swift enough to outpace him.

Demeris interrupted Ronan, his voice strained: "Thanks for the advice, Ronan. I need to figure this out. For now, I'll work on being faster on my feet. Hopefully, it'll help me steer clear of trouble."

Ronan, starting to walk away, nodded in approval, "Smart thinking, Demeris! You take care of yourself. If you ever need someone to drop some wisdom, I'm your guy, yeah?" he added grinning, then left.

After Ronan left him alone, Demeris sat in quiet contemplation. A spark of inspiration flashed in his mind: what if he could use his Qi not just for speed but also for healing? Intrigued by the idea, he focused his energy on a prominent bruise on his arm.

As he focused, Demeris observed a change in his Qi. Though the energy surrounding him started becoming more transparent, the Qi over the bruise intensified, becoming denser and more palpable. Slowly, his arm started to heal, and after a few more infusion of Qi, it felt completely rejuvenated, as if it had never been injured. Demeris sat there, amazed by the phenomenon.

Fascinated by his newfound skill, Demeris kept focusing his Qi on his injuries. When he concentrated on a part, the Qi there got denser, and his wounds gradually healed. It took him a few hours, but eventually, everything, even his broken ribs, was better. Sitting there, he couldn't believe how his Qi healed him, leaving him amazed and stronger than before.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

While healing, Demeris observed the usual subtle shroud that was his Qi enveloping him. When he concentrated on healing a specific part of his body, the Qi around that area intensified—growing denser, more concentrated, and distinctly visible. Simultaneously, the Qi around the rest of his body became even more delicate, at times nearly dissipating altogether. Yet, after the healing process, it swiftly reverted back to its original state. His Qi replenished rapidly, returning to its familiar wispy, semi-transparent form, just as it was before.

Demeris thought about how common this healing ability might be in the cultivator sect, and can servants like him really do it. Recalling the tired servants in their quarters, many of them limping or complaining of aches, he wondered why they couldn't use their Qi to rejuvenate themselves. Could they not do it? Pondering this, he decided to keep his self-healing ability a secret.

As he sat on his bed thinking, he saw the Master of Servants enter the dorm, his sharp eyes sweeping across the room. Demeris tensed as the Master's gaze fixated on him, and the atmosphere grew colder.

"Demeris! You lazy new recruit! How dare you lie around like a useless sack of grain? Do you think you can just loaf about and escape your duties?" bellowed the Master, his voice echoing through the dorm.

Demeris swiftly rose from his resting spot, "Master, I—I got tired and was briefly catching my breath. I’m heading back to work now," he responded, attempting to keep his tone steady.

The Master of Servants sneered, his disdain apparent. "I don't care about your excuses. Laziness is not tolerated here. If you don't start moving right now, I'll have you fired on the spot."

"Understood, sir," Demeris acknowledged, his movements deliberate as he made his way towards the exit.

As Demeris walked past the Master of Servants, the latter leaned in menacingly, his anger lingering like a storm cloud. "You're on thin ice, Demeris. I won't tolerate any more slacking off. Get back to work or consider yourself unemployed."

Demeris went to work. He selected a patch in the gardens and began tending to the rows of medicinal herbs there. He watered, dug, and tended to the plants, unconsciously reminiscing about the times when he would join his mother in tending their little garden. This connection made his tasks feel more meaningful. As he kept working, the sun went down, making the sky look pretty. The colors reminded him of sunsets with his family. In the quiet garden, Demeris felt a bit lonely, suddenly missing his parents who weren't around anymore.

After a while, Ronan, working on a separate patch, came over, surprised at how much work Demeris had done. "Demeris, you must really be used to working hard. Look at me, so exhausted, Qi completely spent, yet you got more work done compared to me," he remarked.

Demeris was curious. As Ronan discussed his depleted Qi, Demeris observed that his own hadn't run out, even after continuous use. The wispy, thin shroud still enveloped every inch of his body, unchanged. He also realized, to his surprise, that he didn’t feel tired at all, at least not physically.

Ronan and Demeris walked back together, the evening breeze carrying their casual conversation.

Demeris, still curious about Qi, tried to ask subtly, "Hey, Ronan, about Qi, how soon does it usually run out?"

Ronan chuckled, "Oh, for servants like us, our Qi runs out pretty quickly. That's why you should use yours sporadically. Save it for tasks that really need that extra boost of strength or speed."

Demeris, absorbing this information, probed a bit further, "What about using Qi for healing? Can we do that?"

Ronan burst into laughter, "Healing? That's a good one, Demeris! You would need all of your Qi just to heal minor cut so just forget about it. If you need medicine, the apothecary sells healing potions, but they are expensive."

Demeris, although taken aback, continued the conversation and shifted it back to more mundane topics. When they got to the dorms, they went directly to the washrooms, washed themselves, and headed to the kitchen for food. Luckily, Malachi wasn’t there, so they were able to eat peacefully.

Demeris listened intently to the conversations all around them, learning a bit more about the sect, particularly the servant’s quarters. After eating, they headed to their beds. Ronan immediately fell asleep, while Demeris laid on his back, thinking.

In the quiet of the dorm, Demeris couldn't shake off his curiosity about Qi. Alone in the dimly lit room, he decided to test his Qi, pondering why it never seemed to run out. Closing his eyes, he gathered Qi in his palm and willed it to dissipate. To his observation, gathering Qi indeed depleted the wispy shroud enveloping him, but it replenished back quickly.

He repeated the exercise over and over, yet the results are the same. “I have infinite Qi..,” Demeris said to himself.