Kiro woke on a bed of soft grass. The evening sun just barely shone through his eyelids, and for a brief second, he wondered whether he had somehow fallen asleep at the harvests. Then, Aer spoke behind him, and memories of the past day washed over him.

“Don’t worry. We’re safe now.”

He had encountered a Saint. A Saint who had somehow agreed to take him under her wing as an apprentice. She had given him alchemical equipment beyond his wildest dreams, and while he concocted, she had fought the matriarch, who was far more powerful than any mystic of the Ninth Purification.

“Apprentices, welcome to Bastion, last home of the Sect of Living Stone and the place in which Zayne Worldsplitter first earned his name.”

The Hong Clan was actually just a big trap, and the Huang hired assassins, and Seira just a sacrifice to increase the matriarch’s foundation so that she herself could reach Sainthood, and —

He shot up, feeling his dantian for pain. His entire body was covered in black sludge, and his heart beat even faster as he considered what sort of injury he had to have sustained to cause such a reaction. Yet, as he frantically ran his fingers over his stomach, he felt as healthy as ever.

“Kiro! You’re awake!” Seira stood a few paces away from him, and she extended her arms before quickly withdrawing them. “Uhh, I would hug you, but you’re covered in impurities at the moment.”

“W-what? Impurities?” He looked down again, and realization dawned on him as he stared at the foul-smelling liquid that covered him from head to toe. He had assumed that it was the result of some sort of explosion in his core, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Memories of Rynn’s advancement surfaced, and he clenched his fists, looking for any change in strength.

Yet… he certainly didn’t feel any stronger. If anything, he felt weaker than before, as if a sizeable part of his energy was being spent just to keep him upright.

A blast of air blew away the majority of the filth, and Aer caught his eye. “Congratulations, Kiro! You’re officially a mystic of the First Purification!”

He stood, bowing to the Saint as formally as his tired limbs would allow. “I thank you, honored Immortal, but… I don’t think it worked.”

Worries of having injured his core returned again, and he nervously glanced back at his abdomen.

“Don’t worry! Your core just needed the slightest push more to advance, so I agitated the mana a tad and the rest happened on its own. Apologies if it felt like your spirit was being torn from your body, by the way. The second you awakened your mana, we stepped into the void, and the currents there are a bit rough on the spirit.” The Saint gave him an apologetic smile, brushing a lock of silver hair out from her eyes.

“But… I feel weaker than before.”

“Oh!” The woman waved him off. “This world’s ambient mana is much denser than that of Paradise, meaning you’ll feel like you weigh a lot more over here. At first it’ll be a pain, but you’ll get used to it.”

“But—” He still couldn’t believe it. Weren’t mystics supposed to wield extraordinary powers? He didn’t feel like he could do any of the superhuman feats that Seira demonstrated on a regular basis. Heavens, he could barely even hold himself upright.

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“Here, let me show you.” Aer walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Do you feel my hand?”

He frowned. “Yes?”

“Right now, I’m gathering the ambient fire mana around us and channeling it into you bit by bit. Focus on the heat coming from my hand, on the energy transferring to you and flowing through your channels.”

He did as he was told, closing his eyes and focusing on the heat radiating from the Saint’s hand. His body certainly felt stronger now, and he concentrated on his core, trying to pinpoint where exactly the energy entered. Once he had done so, he traced the energy back through, returning his focus to Aer’s hand.

He opened his eyes, and realized that the sensation hadn’t gone away. It wasn’t as if he saw the mana, but rather like he felt it, like it was a new sense that he had never acknowledged until now. The fiery energy was like a splash of crimson in a world of muted gray — he knew exactly where his core was, where Aer’s mana started, and where the two connected. Streams of brilliant red flowed through him, and he gasped, feeling their effects on his body. Channels! He had channels!

Aer grinned, sending even more mana into his system. “Now I want you to focus on keeping those channels in place and gathering a bit into your core.”

He grunted, too focused on his mana to give a coherent response. It was hot, nearly burning, but it didn’t hurt him, like Seira’s energy had all those years ago. Instead, it felt much more like the Starlight’s Drop had, but despite that, this energy was raw and unrefined.

It wasn’t the mana that had changed. He had tamed it with his advancement. If he gripped it with his spirit…

A jolt of energy burned against his ribs, and he yelped. Well, at least Aer had tamed it. He still had a long way to go.

More carefully this time, he pulled at the mana.

The energy slowed the slightest bit, and he gradually dragged it to his core through the proper channels. As it entered, he lost a bit of strength, but his core brightened, and he felt a sense of satisfaction filled him. Was this cultivation?

“Good. Now I’m going to loosen my grip just a teensy bit. Ready?”

He nodded.

The rigid guidance of his channels loosened a bit, and he had to concentrate to make up for the Saint’s perfect control. Slowly, though, he forced it back into place, and the cycle continued. Once again, she gave up a bit of control, and he took it up, keeping his channels exactly as she had formed them at first.

For what could have been hours, they repeated the exercise, until at last he had full control over his mana. He slowly reopened his eyes, and Seira cheered next to him. “Great job! Your channels are forming really well!”

He grinned, noticing that he could sense her too. Her core was twice as dense as his own, flaring bright in his spiritual sense and packed full of intense power.

“Alright.” Aer brought his attention back to his own cultivation, tracing a line along his arm with her finger. “Now I want you to slowly push out some mana via this channel and use it to conjure a flame.”

He bit his lip, struggling to split his concentration, but eventually a stream of mana deviated from his normal channeling, gathering beneath his palm. The mass shook in his grasp, but Aer steadied it, reinforcing his control over the wild energy.

He was doing it! He took a deep breath, and after a sizeable amount had built up, he forced it out, willing the mana to ignite.

A puff of fire burst from his hand, glowing a warm orange in both his mana sense and his actual vision.

Seira clapped, and Aer gave him a proud smile, silver eyes twinkling with joy.

He whooped, and though the flames dissipated a second later, he hugged the Saint, overwhelmed with emotion.

“I-I’m a mystic! I actually did it!” Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes, and he clenched his fists, shaking.

After all this time, after countless hours of alchemy and study, after his entire clan had told him he was forbidden from doing so, he had just conjured his first flame.