“Are mutations somehow related to demi-humans?” Verus asked his new master as he studied the mysterious tattoos around his wrists. They had briefly stopped their walk through the sect.

Elder Caligo chuckled darkly. He apparently did that a lot, and it was already getting very annoying. “Worried about losing your humanity, little disciple? There was no danger of that from such a small mutation, although twisted flesh would have marked you as a social outcast in the empire. Some primitive tribes see mutations as blessings from the gods, but the empire accepts no deviation from the human, thus we bind ourselves with tattoos, arrays, and laws. Not that demi-human tribes are born of mutated humans anyway. How could they all have the same mutation? No, most were never human.”

That sounded like an interesting topic, but Verus was more worried about himself at the moment. “So, the tattoos don’t do anything?”

He still wasn’t completely comfortable with the unreadable script being stamped onto his skin. They were similar to glyphs, which meant there could be hidden functions to them.

“There is more to a mutation than the physical change. In one sense, they are a result of the flesh adapting to the ki within it. The true purpose and wonder of the Soul Mark Tattoos is that they replicate the ability of a mutation while sealing the physical deviation. Your mutation was a very small one, but it’s possible you gained some insignificant ability from it. Again, you’ll have to figure that out for yourself.”

Verus wiggled his fingers. They didn’t seem different. He’d have to experiment later. There was a lot he needed to check out.

“Are mutations connected to bloodline abilities?”

Elder Caligo laughed. “An intrusive yet insightful question. I suppose, as your master, I should answer this sort of thing. It’s not like you can ask you parents. Officially, the answer is no. It wouldn’t do to ever promote such things, but the truth is more complicated. Abilities passed down through blood aren’t mutations as they are a natural part of a person, but many do originate from mutations caused during ascension to the Blood Realm or higher. Lesser bloodlines that grant nothing but attunements and such don’t require a mutation, but you don’t have to worry about that. It will be quite a while before you ascend to the next Realm.”

Turning, the elder stroked his chin as he gave Verus a penetrating look. “I wonder if your ability to use void ki originates from a long dormant bloodline. Sometimes unusually deep enlightenment can resonate with and strengthen dormant bloodlines.”

“I thought you said there were no cultivators on this world that used void ki?”

“They are no records of any, but that doesn’t mean they never existed,” Elder Caligo said with a shrug. “You seem to have some native blood, and it’s not like the empire has a deep understanding of this world’s history. Despite our inflated sense of worth and destiny, we are but recent arrivals on this ancient world. Countless ages passed before our coming, and the ruins of great and mighty civilizations long forgotten lay beneath our own. Even the Telhri are but recent residents, descendants of a fallen empire built upon the bones of others. It is an ancient cycle that perpetuates itself across innumerable worlds.”

The elder laughed darkly as he started walking again. “It is entirely possible you can trace your lineage back to a race of demi-humans or titan-born more terrible than anything alive in this age, although you’re obviously human enough. Maybe they still exist on another world somewhere. Anything is possible under the heavens, for they are truly endless.”

Verus considered the elder’s words as he followed after him. He’d never really considered the age of the world before. The education he’d gotten as a temple ward seemed to be lacking. “Master, is there a way for me to reach you if I have other questions?”

Elder Caligo tossed Verus a small stone tablet the size of his palm. “Simply project your ki into this and say my name. That will inform me that you want to meet. Now, as my… disciple, you’ll have several responsibilities. The first is simple. You must enter the inner sect and qualify for the upcoming tournament. Failure to do so will result in punishment, not only from me, but from Lady Nightclaw. Trust me on this, I speak from experience, you want to avoid her displeasure at all costs.”

“Yes, master,” Verus agreed enthusiastically. The very idea of being punished directly by a great elder terrified him. “Exactly what do I have to do to enter the inner sect and the tournament?”

“Ten amulets were distributed to the outer sect disciples. You’ll need to challenge one of their holders and beat them in a duel. Once you have an amulet, all you need to do is hold on to it until the selection. Normally, you’d have to wait until the end of the year for a chance to join the inner sect, but the emissary from the throne world will arrive soon. Thus, the sect will be announcing a special selection of disciples for the tournament, and all the chosen disciples will be promoted to the inner sect halfway through the year.” Elder Caligo gave Verus a prying look. “All the amulet holders will be in the Tempered Realm and quite skilled, do you think you’ll be able to manage it?”

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Verus didn’t hesitate. He projected confidence and nodded. “I’ve fought several disciples at the Tempered Realm before, master. Now that I’ve reached it, I’m confident of my ability to defeat them.”

The gloomy elder snorted as they entered the outer disciple area. “You’d better be, because there is one more order that my master has instructed me to pass on to you. You are to defeat a specific amulet holder, a disciple named Avon Fortex.”

A frown appeared on Verus’s face. He didn’t recognize the name, but he doubted his new target was among the weaker amulet holders. Well, it wasn’t like he’d been planning to go after the weakest anyway. “I will do as instructed, master.”

“Good luck, little disciple. Try not to disappoint me,” the elder replied before taking a swig from his canteen and disappearing. Whatever movement technique he was using made him vanish without a trace.

Verus blinked and then made his way back to the disciple dormitory and his room. He’d been gone for a while now. Right before opening his door, he hesitated, but then he steeled himself with a quick chant and stepped inside.

His room was exactly the same as before, a small barely furnished chamber, but it felt empty and cold now. Unlike the one back at the mountain temple, he hadn’t even shared it with Warin, but that didn’t matter. He could still feel the aching emptiness of his friend’s absence. The sect was a very different place without him around, cold and hostile. There was no one who knew Verus and supported him. No one who understood him and shared in his small victories.

Verus didn’t even have any real keepsakes of his friend. As temple wards, neither of them had been big on owning physical possessions.

Sighing forlornly, Verus tried to put aside his melancholy thoughts and focus on the future. He’d made great progress, but there was much he had to do. To honor Warin’s memory, he had to show everyone that they couldn’t simply overlook or discard temple wards. Verus clenched his fist. He’d show them all what he was capable of. Warin had never stopped believing in him, so he couldn’t give up on himself. He had to succeed.

First, Verus went through the stuff in his room. The book on channeling techniques was still on his desk. It was no longer of much use to him, so he made a mental note to return it to the library. When he was done tidying up, Verus did some cultivation using his new technique. The feeling of void ki cycling through his body was peaceful and helped him clear his mind of nagging doubts and frustration. He wanted to keep doing it forever, to isolate himself from the world, but he knew he couldn’t.

Thus, he reluctantly stopped cultivating and left his room again. Before focusing on his training, there was one last thing he had to do. Feeling awkward, Verus headed through the dormitory halls until he reached his destination, Escora’s room. Once there, he knocked on her door and it swung open a few moments later.

“Oh, Verus,” Escora said when she saw him. She looked as uncomfortable as he felt.

“Greetings, Escora. I simply came by to see if you were alright. Our separation in the Reaches was rather abrupt,” he said as he smiled reassuringly. He didn’t want her to think he blamed her for anything, because he didn’t.

Escora relaxed slightly and gave him a complicated smile back. “It’s good to see you up and about. I tried to find you a while ago, but you’d disappeared.”

“Apologies. I was injured and then undergoing some training under an elder.”

Escora perked up. “Oh, so you managed to find a patron, did you? That’s great. An elder has shown interest in me as well. She uses water ki and is looking for a student who does the same. Now that I’m in the Tempered Realm, it shouldn’t be too hard to smack the other candidates aside and claim the spot for myself.”

“Yes, you weren’t wrong to push me to be more aggressive. Thank you for that.”

Escora nodded but then hesitated. Clearly, there was something she had to get off her chest, and Verus was certain he knew what it was. “Verus… I’m so sorry about Warin. I know he was your closest friend. I shouldn’t have pushed you both so hard.”

Verus sighed and gave her a sad smile. “You weren’t wrong. His death wasn’t your fault. He was here to compete, just like us. You didn’t bring him to this place, and you certainly don’t control what happens here. You’re just a disciple doing what you’re supposed to, and you always treated him as a true friend. Thank you again for everything.”

No one person had been responsible for Warin’s death. The cold and ruthless nature of the sect was the main cause, but Verus also blamed himself. He’d let his friend throw everything away to support him. He’d been too selfish and afraid to see how he was putting his best friend in danger. He couldn’t be that weak ever again.

Verus was invited into Escora’s room, and over a pot of tea, the two young disciples talked about Warin and their experiences with him for a few more minutes. Escora hadn’t known him all that long, but she shared their first meeting, and Verus talked about their years together at the mountain temple with the other sect wards. It felt good to share memories of his friend with someone else, but Verus had never been all that social, so he eventually exhausted everything he was willing to say.

Thus, after saying goodbye, he left to continue his training. Verus had wanted to reassure Escora and reconnect with her, but his motives hadn’t been entirely pure. He’d also wanted to make sure he had a good sparring partner available in the future. He was going to need one.

Verus’s life soon settled into a pattern similar to that from before he’d gone to the Algorian Reaches. He attended classes, cultivated, and trained in his spare time. There were noticeable differences though. He no longer had to worry about shards. Not only did he no longer have to spend them on channeling techniques, but the sect had bought the spiritual herbs he’d helped find in the Reaches and given him a cut.

In class, he was left to himself. Far fewer of his fellows dared to insult him or even draw his attention. Only one of the family scions that had looked down at him before had managed to reach the Tempered Realm. None of them would dare harass him now. Unsure of how he had ascended and the nature of his power, they avoided him completely. That suited Verus fine. They were nothing but a petty distraction. His real foes had a much higher standing.