“Azure, do you think this system would work with qi, or the red and blue sun energies?”

  "Honestly, I'm not sure, Master. The hierarchy of energy might be a factor. Qi is a stronger, higher level of energy that has authority over the lesser forms of energy. And the sun energies are even more complex; they tend to either corrupt or dominate other energy systems."

  I got up from the cathedra and walked over to one of the empty, broken thrones.

  With a flick of my wrist, I summoned the blue sun down from the sky and had it hover near me.

  The blue sun radiated a gentle, manipulative force that could program and affect consciousness in various mediums. It seemed almost curious about what I was doing, although that might have just been my imagination.

  "Let's see what happens," I whispered, and directed the blue sun energy toward the empty throne.

  The moment it made contact with the broken stone, things immediately went wrong.

  The throne didn’t soak up the energy or change in some way.

  Instead, it glowed with increasingly intense power and cracks began to spread across its surface.

  "Master, I think you should—" Azure began to say, but he was unable to finish his warning.

  The throne exploded.

  Debris from the throne flew in every direction as the structural integrity of the containment failed to hold the blue sun energy. Shockwaves from the explosion traveled through the cathedral and damaged several of the stained-glass windows, sending fragments of color crashing to the floor below.

  The blue sun energy, unaffected by the destruction it had caused, floated harmlessly in the area where the throne once sat. The sun pulsed with what I could have sworn was mild embarrassment, as if it was saying sorry for destroying the chair.

  I turned to look at the destroyed throne and watched as the shattered crystals that littered the cathedral floor began to move. Not randomly, but with purpose, as if each piece of debris was being drawn back to its former location by an unseen thread. Tiny pieces of crystallized energy rolled across the floor, as large pieces rose from where they fell. The whole process reminded me of a video playing backward, except this was completely real and happening right in front of me.

  "Well, that’s convenient," I mumbled to myself, feeling a wave of relief pass through me.

  The last thing I wanted to do was to damage a portion of my inner world. The Genesis Seed had spent a lot of effort to create this cathedral by combining fragments of Wei Lin's techniques and I had been worried that I might have permanently damaged the structure.

  Fortunately for me, that wasn’t the case.

  The throne was able to put itself back together.

  First, the base reassembled, followed by the armrests and backrest.

  And within a few minutes, the throne showed no signs of the cataclysmic explosion that had ripped it apart. It looked exactly like it did before my failed experiment. But the question running through my mind was why did the blue sun energy cause such a violent reaction?

  Was it because of the energy type itself?

  Or was it because of the quantity used?

  After all, I’d essentially tried to inject the full power of a small star into a container that was intended to house much weaker energy forms.

  Maybe if I just used a fraction of the blue sun energy, the throne would be able to handle it?

  “Since the throne is able to repair itself, there’s no harm in trying,” Azure agreed.

  So, I summoned the blue sun down from the sky once again.

  This time, as opposed to directing a full volume of energy toward the throne, I managed to pinch off the tiniest possible amount of blue sun energy. The minuscule fragment was barely discernible, more like a spark than a flame.

  "Here goes nothing," I said, and carefully steered the tiny amount of blue sun energy toward the rebuilt throne.

  As soon as the two made contact, the throne exploded again.

  The detonation was much smaller than the previous explosion, more like a sharp crack than the massive thunderclap of the previous blast, but the result was the same — failure.

  I sighed, but I wasn’t particularly disappointed to find out that my hypotheses were wrong.

  At least now I had a much clearer picture of the limits of the system.

  The cathedral was designed to work with low-tier energies such as Xuan Yi, harmonic essence, Martial qi and comparable types of power. The quantity didn’t matter, both the red and blue sun energies operated on a level that the storage system just couldn’t store safely.

  And that was fine with me.

  Having a cathedral that could handle so many energy forms was already a huge blessing that I wouldn’t take for granted.

  After I was done experimenting, I sat back in the cathedra and closed my spiritual link to my inner world to return to my physical body in the tournament arena.

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  When I opened my eyes, I found that that most of the spectators had left their seats and were returning to their quarters to enjoy the night ahead. The arena was much less crowded than it had been during the battle, with only a handful of small groups of disciples remaining to talk about the matches.

  That is when I realized Wu Kangming was standing around ten feet from me, apparently waiting for me to finish meditating. He was dressed in the same white robe as he always wore and had a tranquil air about him. He was also resting his hand on his sword ring, a habit I had begun to notice he kept even during peaceful moments.

  "Congratulations on defeating Wei Lin," he said, his voice was calm as always. "That was an impressive demonstration of power, especially your tree manifestation technique. I’ve never seen anything like it."

  "Thank you," I replied, getting to my feet and brushing off my robes.

  The memory of fighting my best friend came back to the forefront of my mind and I couldn’t help but wince at the way Wei Lin had collapsed at the end.

  "He will recover quickly, I am sure," Wu Kangming said with conviction. "Cultivators at our level are resilient, and the sect's healers are quite capable. But I suspect his pride will need longer to recover than his body."

  There was something almost empathetic in his tone, which surprised me. Wu Kangming rarely showed such consideration for the emotional states of others, but maybe his own experiences with defeat had given him a new perspective.

  "Congratulations to you as well for your match against Luo Yichen," I said. "Your sword skills are incredible. The way you walked through his defensive techniques without triggering any of them was impressive."

  Wu Kangming nodded slightly. "Luo Yichen is an excellent swordsman, but he relies too heavily on the technical aspects of his style and doesn’t understand the underlying principles. Without comprehension, powerful techniques can only carry a cultivator so far."

  I was taken aback by his analysis. It wasn’t boastful or dismissive, just an objective assessment of what happened in their match. Wu Kangming had a unique way of describing combat that reminded me of a master artisan discussing the effectiveness and utility of tools.

  "Speaking of battles," Wu Kangming continued, "it appears that our promised duel approaches."

  At that, my smile faltered a little.

  It was the way he said, ‘promised duel’, it carried weight that went beyond a simple tournament.

  He was clearly talking about the complicated history we had between us, a history that started because of a jade beauty that thought too much of herself.

  "Right, the finals," I said, trying to keep my voice light. “Should be an interesting match.”

  Wu Kangming examined my face closely, and I had the unmistakable sensation that he was checking my facial expression for weaknesses or hesitation. Whatever he saw seemed to satisfy him because he gave a slight nod.

  "Yes. I look forward to testing my abilities against yours properly this time."

  The way he kept staring at me made me a little uncomfortable.

  "Wu Kangming," I said, looking him directly in the eye. "I want to make something clear. Remember how we said that this is just a friendly duel and nothing personal, I want to make sure that you remember that.”

  For a moment, Wu Kangming was silent, his expression impossible to read.

  Then, something changed, and I saw a glimmer of understanding in his eyes.

  "Of course. I haven't forgotten our agreement, Ke Yin,” he gave a slight bow of his head. “You have my word. This is a test of skill, nothing more."

  I still hadn’t gotten used to the formal way he spoke, but his response was reassuring.

  At least I didn’t have to worry about being killed or crippled.

  And I sensed there was something else in his words, a kind of resolve that went deeper than a simple agreement to follow the rules. It was as if he was making a promise not just to me, but to himself.

  As strange as Wu Kangming might come across to other disciples, there was one trait that defined his character, and that was his strong sense of honor. Like most righteous swordsman, he followed a strict code and wouldn’t break his promise, especially over drama created by his ex-fiancé.

  "Thanks," I smiled, relieved. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  Wu Kangming nodded again and then turned to leave.

  After a few steps, he stopped and looked back over his shoulder.

  "May the best cultivator win, Ke Yin."

  "May the best cultivator win," I replied.

  After that, we went our separate ways.

  I assume he went to make some last-minute preparations, while I made my way over to the Core Disciple viewing section where my parents would be waiting.

  When I arrived, I found my father sitting back in his chair with a big, proud smile on his face, and my mother staring down at the arena floor with an intense focus, indicating that she was still processing everything she had witnessed.

  “There's our tournament finalist,” my father exclaimed, standing to wrap his arm around my shoulder. “What a battle, son! I didn’t understand much of what was going on with all these techniques, but even I could tell that you dominated that fight."

  “Thanks, Father,” I said, although I couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed by the praise. “But I’ve not actually won the tournament yet. There's still a final battle tomorrow.”

  “Are you injured?” my mother asked, standing up as well, her expression a mix of pride and concern. “Your friend used some pretty aggressive techniques that shouldn't be used in a tournament.”

  “No. I'm just tired.”

  “We're proud of you, son,” my father said squeezing my shoulder tighter. “You've exceeded all of our expectations in every way, and you've done it all without losing yourself in the process.”

  “What do you mean?” I raised an eyebrow.

  "When you first joined the sect, we were worried that cultivation would change you," my mother explained. "Change you into a cold-hearted, emotionless person, like some of the other powerful cultivators we've encountered. But seeing you fight today, and the way you treated your opponent with respect despite the way he acted like a monster... we know that you're still our son."

  Their words touched me. I'd been so focused on the practical aspects of advancing in the sect, and the political aspects of the tournament, I'd almost forgotten how this must appear to my parents. They were watching their child participate in potentially lethal combat, using abilities they couldn't even begin to comprehend, in pursuit of goals that were largely abstract to them.

  "In fact," my father added, grinning bigger, "we're going to take you out to dinner. A real celebration meal. Win or lose tomorrow, tonight we dine like the proud parents we are."

  “I should probably get some rest before the finals,” I tried to protest. “I need to replenish my spiritual energy and prepare —”

  “Nonsense!” my father cut in. “You're still our son before you're a cultivator. And our son gets a celebration meal for making it this far!”

  I looked to my mother hoping she would support me, but instead she nodded along.

  “And besides,” my father said, becoming serious again, “to us, you've already won.”

  Seeing the combination of pride and concern on their faces, I figured there was no use arguing.

  I had already trained as much as I could for the duel with Wu Kangming, and as for my spiritual energy, it would naturally replenish itself.

  “Okay,” I eventually agreed, letting some of the tension go from my shoulders. “A nice meal sounds great. And I want to hear more about the baby. We’ve been so busy, we haven’t had a chance to properly talk about it.”

  That brought a smile to my mother's face, and she immediately dived into the details about her pregnancy and their preparations for the baby. As we walked toward the exit of the arena, with Liu Chen joining us for dinner, I felt grateful for the reminder that there were things more important than breakthroughs.

  Tomorrow would bring the final battle and whatever came with it.

  Tonight, I could simply be their son, enjoy a meal with them, and celebrate what really mattered.

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