The carriage arrived on the outskirts of a city and parked as Fonta, Yang, Angel, and Zara exited the carriage and moved towards the unguarded and open gates. Entering the city was easy, though it appeared as though despite being under the care of six awakened cultivators. There was a disturbing lack of visible defenses.

Tall buildings stood throughout the city as various people moved about freely unhindered. Crime seemed oddly low as Fonta glossed over places he’d expect to find orphans planning a food heist.

“The lack of visible orphans concerns me.” Fonta then looked for people who could be homeless. There were none of those, not even beggars or solicitors.

“Something is either really right or dangerously wrong. Be on guard.” Fonta said as he entered a shop selling drinking gourds.

From inside the shop, the doors shot open but no one entered for a long moment then three other people followed, one of which was obviously a demon while another looked like a noble, riding in a precursor artifact.

A ghost talked to the shopkeeper from below.

“Excuse me. I’m looking for my master. He used to be a talking drinking gourd and said to come here.” Fonta placed the remains of a broken gourd on the counter.

The shopkeeper stood up, watching a rather short kid struggle to reach the high counter. “Ah, I do not make talking gourds. Just for drinking.”

“Man… So the master really wasn’t a talking gourd. Such a pain, they could have at least given me a name. What can you tell me about the rulers of this city?” Fonta placed one clean sock on the counter like a bribe.

“Ok. Well there are seven awakened cultivators in the city. The Swordmaster, the Seductress, the Aegis, the Doctor, Man of many eyes, The Self Made King, and the Puppeteer. The Puppeteer is a hidden entity and no one knows what they look like but it is said that they trained the Man of Many Eyes, and the Self Made King. Now what is this?”

Fonta put the other sock onto the table. “The first for information, the second to keep quiet. Also my companions need two small gourds.”

“50 Ducks.” The worker placed them both on the counter and stifled a laugh as the boy stood on his tiptoes to reach the five-foot-tall counter.

The demon with the collar took the gourds and handed one to the pink-haired girl. They nodded and the four left the shop.

As the four left a shadow darted from the corner of the shop and entered the boy’s shadow.

“Fonta. So where are we going?” Yang asked.

“Well we need to be found by the puppeteer or we need to find them ourselves.”

“At least that’s what I’ve been told. I need to drop off some items at the branch of this auction house. Can you two get Yang to that doctor while I tend to this?”

“Sure.” Zara said with irritation.

Angel pushed Yang away as Fonta watched them go.

“Vits.” Fonta knew how to get around a city, and eventually found himself in what could be seen as a lower district where people of the night tended to ply their trade as it was mid-day; however, the place was empty save for the various people in black uniforms going in and out of a building.

Taking a seat on a bench Fonta drew the sword from his umbrella. “What do you want?” Fonta asked.

A human-shaped figure made from shadows stepped out of his and spoke through the ground. “So you noticed. Why are you searching for the puppet master?”

“They asked me to seek them out. So I did.”

“Curious, why would they care about someone so low on the Elpmet stage.”

“I could be called a Vit exterminator. I am very good at fighting.”

“Fine then, we will be playing a game of tag. If you can catch me before sundown you win, and I will bring you to the teacher. If you can’t, never look for them again.”

Fonta swiftly closed the distance causing the shadow to flinch as his hand nearly grabbed its neck.

“Not yet. Give me a five no ten second head start.”

“Fine.” Fonta rolled his eyes and watched the shadow flee.

“One, two,-” Fonta watched as the shadow took off flowing up a building and away as he counted. The next eight seconds flew by as Fonta took a rocket stance and shot off.

“Ten!” Fonta hopped towards a wall in the ally and kicked off with his feet before repeating the process eight times in rapid succession as he reached the rooftop where he saw a shadow moving three buildings away.

Fonta scowled and gave chase as he hopped over the gap between two buildings, rolled to break his fall then jumped through an open apartment door window. He sprinted through the long halfway then jumped through the balcony only to realize there was nowhere closeby to land.

Opening his umbrella slowed his fall greatly as he floated toward another building much closer to the shadow.

“How!” The shadow darted down the building and flew under the people walking through the street in a pattern to confuse Fonta.

Fonta free fell the last four feet and rolled again as he dashed forward no longer fearing the fall he launched himself over the market district and fell forward. Rapidly approaching the shadow hidden under a stall. Using the umbrella to slow his fall when he was close before sliding down and landing in the throng of people.

Moving through them like water Fonta arrived where he thought the shadow was hiding only to see movement in the corner of his eyes causing him to sprint in that direction.

Moving through people proved difficult so he began shipping from the roof of the various outdoor shops eventually noticing the shadow sneak inside a vase.

Fonta jumped onto the vase and held it tight.”

“How are you so fast!” The vae yelled.

“I just am not I got you. Does this count as a win?”

“I will never surrender to you!”

“But I won. Do you want to fight me?”

The shadow seemed to stir. “Fine, master said that If I were to run into you avoid combat because you are a rabid beast.”

“Ah so you do know my new master. Now then show me to the place. I need to get stronger fast.” Fonta stated with his arms crossed.

Fonta was slowly led to a garden in the upper district belonging to a wealthy individual. Behind the garden was a large home suitable for a large family of training multiple people. The meaning was subtle but eventually a wiry man with glasses and dark brown eyes walked out of the house with a cane. His expression was tired but his power was visible.

“You must be Fonta, I am the Man of Many Eyes, though this estate belongs to my master, they are unavailable for a little while. Why don’t you come inside for tea?”

“Alright, Fonta entered the house and looked down where shoes had been placed. He took his off and placed his sneakers next to the others. His clean white socks showed as he stepped onto the carpet.

“It appears you are a child of means to afford socks like that, and give them away.”

“Something like that.”

“You’re clothes are odd as well. Where did you get them?” The wiry man clenched his fingers.

“Good question. I won’t answer that now. Not until I talk to the person who brought me here.”

“Interesting. Fine then, how did you enjoy that game? It was brief but the other disciple said you jumped off an apartment complex.”

“If that’s what the building was then yes. The first time was an accident.”

“I see, welcome to Lumino City if you need anything, call. One of us will hear.”

“How did you know I was there?” Fonta asked.

“We were informed that the master possessed a gourd when encountering a strange child with high combat prowess for his age.”

“I see. So it was a matter of time. ” Fonta sipped the tea, noticing that it hadn’t been poisoned.

Within the hour a wooden puppet walked from the back room and nodded towards Fonta.

A familiar link connected to Fonta as well as the other man in the room.

“Fonta, we meet again.I am known as the puppeteer. My main talent allows me to see what someone needs to do to train their talents. Once they learn its name at least.”

“Ah and you use puppets from a long distance away to prevent being kidnapped for some powerful family or something.”

“I think I get it. Shame, are you going to give me your name this time?”

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“Maybe, but not yet. Why did you come by so fast anyways?”

“The demons took my sister. It is my job to bring her back home.” Fonta added.

“That’s why you’re determined but given what I can tell, they won’t harm her, not for a while anyways. At best you have 8 years at worst 6, which is long enough for you to reach maturity.”

“Yeah because I’ll be an adult.”

“Kind of. You Fonta are a precursor or at least the descendant of one. People like you age slower than the average human, and tend to grow rapidly once they hit maturity. Figured that out when I saw your sister. If they took her that means they need her for something. Likely repairing the barrier keeping the planets apart.”

“What?” Fonta seemed surprised.

“Demons are pragmatic but their current head is getting old. They need a powerful mage to take their position else the planets will collide and everyone on both worlds die. We have a cultivator equivalent here as well. But while less explosive, cultivators tend to live a lot longer when they aren’t killed. I didn’t expect the demons to act so fast however.”

“You knew they were coming?”

“In time, yes, this is early. Thirty years too early.”

“Oh. So it shouldn’t have been a problem I worried about.”

“They could be planning a coup which means your sister is likely being trained in magic. That can’t be rushed. Even if she picks magic up like you do weapons.”

“So I have some time to grow but.”

“One year should be sufficient for your next growth spurt after that you’ll need to break through your 16 meridians.”

“Sixteen?”

“Precursors can wield magic and chi better than either. However I can only teach you the Chi portion and impart knowledge. A demon archmage would know what to do with you. Demons can also learn cultivation and humans magic but they won’t be as gifted.”

“I see. So you didn’t want the Mal Dynamis.”

“No, so you managed to beat the rodent?”

“Yeah. I can buy whatever I want but I can’t read the language.”

“Ah, the precursor script is a bit tricky, but I can teach you the basics.”

“I have–”

“Precursors and their descendants can’t easily comprehend the lower languages. I can bypass that via teaching. Also you need to develop a secondary talent.”

“How do I do that?” Fonta asked.

“You have been banned from using weapons to fight for four months. If you must fight, here. What level of Cultivation technique did you unlock?”

Fonta was handed a wooden spoon for a cooking pot.

“Lost, it's the Way of the Unrelenting Wave.”

“Lost you say, have you considered starting a sect? All elements as well?”

“Yes I believe.”

The puppet collapsed suddenly and without more prompting. “Fonta, I won’t use this information against you but I do ask that you share your technique with your friend and the shadow you chased. A technique can’t be changed after entering the Elpmet stage.”

“Ah, well I’ll be bringing two demons and another human with me to train. There is somewhere we need to be in six years.”

The puppet started moving. “Get your friends and come back, you’ll be staying here for your training. Starting tomorrow you will be helping in various odd jobs to progress your talents in the morning while you cultivate in the afternoon and sleep at night. The evenings will be yours when you reach the peak of Elpmet, and we will begin formal weapon training.

“We are likely going to be an Unorthodox sect, given the fact that we will only have 2 or 3 humans in the Elpmet stage. Kind of forces us to do that.”

“Us, sect?”

“I mean, a Lost technique is powerful, I imagine that's why you have been breaking through your meridians so fast. Though two are quite wide.”

“Fine, you win. Let's start a sect but you're going to be the leader. That can happen later though. I’m much too weak.”

“Co lead, and I’m holding the spot till you get strong enough.”

“Aren’t you supposed to teach?”

“It’s your technique and That's all I intend to do. Teaching is my goal but first we’ll need funds.”

“Yes… The Mal Dynamis lets me spend money to buy things from a precursor shop. I have a deal with the auction house to only sell small clothes to them. But anything else there is fair game. I just don’t know how to use it properly yet.”

“If only you didn’t have to wait a year…Well you fight above rank, so it doesn’t matter…If your training goes well we can tackle some ruins and claim them as our sect base doing so sooner would allow us to be somewhat established by the time we need it.”

“Why not claim the one back home?” Fonta asked.

“Because those ruins are in the backwood and underground, using them would be inconvenient.”

Fonta squinted. “Things seem to be moving quite fast.”

“Of course Fonta, you have a lot to learn. If this was a story, we’d still be in the prologue.” The puppet looked at something only it seemed to be able to see.

Fonta pulled out a needle and threw it where the puppet seemed to be looking.

The next morning Fonta was awoken by the sound of a rooster that had wandered into his room. He hadn’t recalled going to sleep nor did he recall anything after drinking tea. As he got to his feet, he felt pain in every part of his body. As though his entire body was burning from the inside.

“What’s going on?” Fonta mumbled as he walked towards a closet and retrieved his clothes.

After getting dressed Fonta slid the door open towards the balcony revealing the backyard below and a ten-foot drop to get to the bottom with a small barricade between him to prevent accidental falling.

Fonta hopped over the barrier and fell to the ground landing with a roll. As he did, he noticed that the damage to his body from such a maneuver was insignificant if he could even call it damaged. Looking about, Fonta found the front door and re-entered, only to see Yang sitting at a table with the puppet from the day before.

“Fonta. So you have arrived.” The puppet stated telepathically.

“How's it hanging?” Fonta scratched his head, noticing that his hair was quite tangled and a few small welts had appeared.

“Huh?” Yang made an odd face as he looked at Fonta as though he had grown a second head.

“What?” Fonta asked.

“You grew two inches but that stench. Did you sweat out a meridian?”

Fonta scowled and focused on his inner body as he checked his meridians, a line connecting to his kidneys had widened until it was as wide as the others, though what was odd was the line connecting to his middle spine and bones. Fonta had grown denser and taller over what he thought was a night.

“Upper spine meridian, one of the optional ones for some as it connects the cultivation of one’s mind to their body. It increases what we call spiritual attributes.”

“Which means?”

“Aura attacks and defenses, weapon arts, enhanced movement. Guess chasing after that shadow forced you to open a meridian and the exhaustion hit you when you expended too much energy.”

Fonta seemed board by the explanation as he listened.

“You also grew half an inch overnight.” Yang added.

“Woo!” Fonta cheered and looked towards the puppet.

“Now then clean up then follow Yang towards your first job. You’ve been out for three days.”

“Yes, great master.” Yang nodded and left the room. Leaving Fonta with the puppeteer.

“What!” Fonta looked about.

“It’s a side effect of opening up meridians directly connected to your brain. Things need to reset and adjust as talents adapt to better fit your current abilities.”

“Three days! I could have been training!”

“That was training, not my fault you are a little slow witted.”

“Slow witted?” Fonta looked towards the puppet.

“Yes, they say one’s mental capacity influences how quickly they can progress through mental meridians. Some people take seconds or minutes, and a major lack of imagination.”

“What do you mean no imagi cation? I’m plenty magictive.”

“Kid… You can’t read. For good reason mind you, but you haven’t done much if at all. The precursor language is likely lost to you since you appear to be a first generation.”

“A what now?”

“A gen 1 precursor. It means a high purity of magic and chi. Gen 1’s are either born by two parents that are of the same purity or one at gen one and the other at two, or they come into existence when massive amounts of power is gathered in one place suddenly. Their ages are usually under five, with knowledge of how to survive if nothing else. But no knowledge of what they are. That's what you appear to be, second gen are usually born from human or demon heritage mixed with a first gen precursor, making them innately more powerful, with all the drawbacks a precursor has. Like an inability to learn the language through normal means. The final gen is a third gen which is a descendant of precursors, usually dormant, precursor abilities are locked until one gets strong enough to reawaken them. They don’t compare to the first generation in terms of raw talent but most third gen are in positions of power or have strong families.”

“Why do you know this?”

“Because I am a second generation myself. While rare, we are more common than a first.”

“Is that why you aren’t here in person?”

“That is a good question. I may answer that one day. Said day would come along faster if you were diligent in your training. Maybe.”

“Fine. Am I dismissed?” Fonta asked.

“Yang has your schedule. I won’t be meeting with you much, but I will inform you that It will take a while. Potentially a few months or so, if I’m lucky. This area is in what we refer to as the unclaimed lands. City states and small territories mark the area as many unclaimed ruins lay dormant all over. People past the awakened tiers will have trouble gathering enough chi to survive.”

“Ah…That's why.” Fonta may not have been the wisest person but he did catch the clue he’d been given. They needed to possess objects to function in places like this. Which also told him they were likely past Elpmet.

----------------------------------------

“Cut the onions! Don’t butcher them!” A man with a poofy white hat yelled.

“I did cut them!” Fonta yelled as his bloodshot eyes looked towards the head chef.

“You made a mess! Leave the apron and wash the dishes.” The chef pointed to the onion paste and destroyed the cutting board. Then the broken knives were covered in blood.

Fonta had numerous bandages on his fingers where he’d accidentally injured himself. He moved to wash the dishes and proceeded to break the dishes and sponges by applying too much force or failed to clean them properly by applying too little.

“Stop! Your a beast! Go outside and cut some firewood.”

“Do this, do that. Make up your mind old man. Sheesh.”

A burning Wok was thrown at the boy. Who snatched it from the air and placed it in a separate spot. “It’s, yes Chef, brat.”

“And It’s Fonta, Old Chef!” Fonta brandished his wooden spoon.

Fonta had two black eyes, various burns, and more than a few bandaged wounds as he stood outside with an ax cutting wood. He had been out there for four hours cutting nonstop and his arms ached. Were old people always this strong?

Eventually his arms cramped and the ax fell from his grasp nearly taking his toes.

“Brat! You did your six hours. Get outta here.”

The chef was completely uninjured, like the old man, he was awakened, but unlike him, he wasn’t weakened by an outside force and had experience. The Ched was also somewhat laying low.

Fonta lost the fight fair and square which meant maybe the cook could teach him things. Fonta’s stomach growled as the smell of roasting meat wasted through the back door.

“Go home. If you want to eat here, put in the effort to learn or come back with some money.”

“Like I’d want that smelly food of yours!” Fonta yelled words he; 'd soon regret as he left the area,

As Fonta ran towards the monastery for his next job. Cleaning the monastery.

As it turned out, Fonta was as good at chores as he was cooking. Which wasn’t very much as he was run out as the person in charge ran him out with a mop. He’d broken three brooms and tried to fight one of the monks.

That night Fonta made it back exhausted and dead to the world as he slept off his rough day, skipping dinner as well.

The next morning, Fonta went to the restaurant early, his stomach growling. “I’ll buy any leftovers you’ve got.”

“You could order breakfast.”

Fonta’s stomach fought him. He’d gone days without food before but now his body was fighting it. When did he get so weak?

“I should be fine with scraps. I never needed to eat much anyways.”

“Uh huh…Just going to spitball here, where were you the last few days. You showed up three days late.”

“A meridian opened and I was bedridden why?”

“Did you eat anything after waking up?”

“No… I did not.”

“Right. That makes four days, and you exerted your body quite a bit yesterday, right?”

“Yes, but it wouldn't be the first time I’ve done that?”

“Uh huh. Kid you aren’t going to grow much unless you eat. Thats probably why you’re so short.”

“That isn’t…” Fonta was going to refute but he wasn’t fully wrong. Fonta was hitting his growth spurt he’d need to build himself up.

“Fine. I’ll pay for breakfast as well.”

“No need. Today will be free. You aren’t getting paid for your labor after all.”

“Fine.” Fonta crossed his arms.

A plate of eggs bacon and pancakes was brought to the boy, next to a bowl of cut potatoes.

For the first time in his life, Fonta cried over a meal. Though it wasn’t verbal, the only cook had been Ted, and he wasn’t exactly good, they also had to cook for numbers. Fonta was also quite bad with his money which led to them doing what they could to stretch it.

“What's wrong with it?” The chef asked as Fonta scarfed it down like a rabid dog.

“It’s a little salty. Chef.”

“Maybe you won’t cry while you eat then! Damned brat!”

“I’ll do my best.” Fonta removed and got to work.

That day he managed to not break any knives, though the onions were a lot less like mush, and he’d gotten to peel potatoes, requiring finesse and patience. Fonta had finesse but his patience was lacking a bit as he nicked himself a few times with the blade. After a while, his control over the small knife increased to a degree rather suddenly as he focused on peeling only the potato skins. Oddly enough the more he’d done it the faster he did it, to the point he could peel them in seconds.

After four hours of labor, Fonta was allowed a light lunch before he got to cutting logs. This time he was faster, using his body to break the logs instead of just the logs. Finishing his quota in half a day before heading to the monastery.

Sadly Fonta had no talent for cleaning, but at least he hadn’t been run off with a mop this time. The remainder of the day was spent making brooms to replace the ones he’d broken. Though in crafting the items he learned how they were supposed to be used effectively. The next day would be much easier.

Leaving the monastery Fonta headed back home where he encountered Angel who was currently carrying more than a few dusty books. She did appear to be straining herself to build them.

“Need help?” Fonta said as he ran forward.

“N-no ma–Fonta.”

“Look, your noodle arms don’t look too used to that sort of labor. Please share the burden.”

“I am your servant. You can't just.”

“I don’t have any servants. You are a new sibling as far as i’m concerned.”

“So I’m just a replacement.”

“No one can replace family. You are your own person.” Fonta sagely stated as he took two tomes from her.

“If you have no servants what is Zara to you?” Angel asked innocently.

“Nothing but a pain in my–”

“Oi Fonta! You look tired, though people like you usually act like they spend all day everyday toiling like this.”

“I’ve never worked an Honest day in my life. Aside from information gathering and ruin dives, I haven’t done much outside of fighting.”

“Wait wait wait. Information gathering, how could you?”

“I’m small, nimble, can be anywhere on the street without drawing suspicion in most areas and can fight when needed. Though nothing too dangerous. Mostly small stuff like finding lost toys, investigating suspected infidelity, pranks, returning stolen property to the owners ect. Though that line of work doesn’t pay much when you aren't willing to break any major laws.”

“So you are good at it.”

“Not really. Lets hurry back I need to do the farming thing.”

“You mean cultivation right?” Yang asked.

Fonta didn’t answer as he skipped away, books in his hands.