The Art of Control

The frost-covered courtyard was empty except for me and the distant form of Feng Tao. His silhouette stood against the backdrop of the Coldwind Clan's fortress, but even from afar, I could feel his watchful gaze as I began my training. Today, my focus was on mastering the fundamental techniques of the Qi Condensation Realm—attacks that relied on my newfound ability to harness Frozen Qi.

The air felt different now. It wasn't just cold anymore—it was responsive. The qi inside me resonated with the frozen atmosphere, sharper and more intense than before. My challenge was to mold that raw power into something I could control, something that wouldn't spiral out of my grasp but strike with precision and purpose.

Feng Tao's voice broke the silence. "Begin with the Glacial Pulse. Focus your energy into your hands, form it, and release it in a single burst."

I planted my feet, legs apart, arms at my sides. I reached into my dantian, drawing the qi stored there into my arms. The cold energy flowed through my meridians, and as I guided it toward my hands, I could see faint traces of frost forming on my fingertips. The icy power swirled under my skin, ready to be released.

With a sharp exhale, I pushed the energy forward, letting it burst out of my palms. The air before me shimmered as the Glacial Pulse shot outward—a shockwave of cold energy that cracked the frost-covered ground as it traveled across the courtyard. The pulse fizzled out after a few meters, dissipating into the air.

"Again," Feng Tao instructed. "This time, more control. Less force, more precision."

I breathed deeply and focused. This time, I slowed down, letting the qi gather more deliberately. I envisioned the pulse as a blade, sharp and focused, cutting through the air rather than simply blasting outward. When I pushed the energy forward again, the Glacial Pulse moved in a straight line, faster and more controlled, leaving a trail of frost as it struck the far wall and coated the stone in a thin layer of ice.

"Better," Feng Tao acknowledged. "Now you're starting to understand."

I nodded. The next few attempts came easier as I honed the technique, sending controlled pulses of frozen qi outward, each more defined than the last.

Once I had gained a sense of control over the Glacial Pulse, Feng Tao gestured for me to move on. "Now, practice the Frigid Gale Strikes. These will teach you how to combine qi with your physical attacks. Channel the energy through your limbs, allowing it to enhance both the speed and impact of each strike."

I shifted into a combat stance, fists raised. The Frigid Gale Strikes were a hallmark of the Coldwind Clan—swift, qi-enhanced punches that unleashed bursts of freezing wind with every strike. The goal was not only to damage the opponent with the physical hit but to disrupt their movements by slowing them with the cold.

As I punched forward, I felt the surge of qi race through my arm. The air around my fist rippled with cold energy, and a gust of icy wind followed the strike. I threw punch after punch, each one accompanied by a blast of frigid wind, the cold lingering in the air as I moved. 

"Good," Feng Tao said. "Now, try it while moving."

I shifted my stance, letting qi flow into my legs. This time, as I threw a punch, I stepped forward and shifted my weight appropriately, my body moving fluidly with the strike. The wind howled with each motion, and the frost that trailed behind me became more pronounced.

After several rounds of practice, Feng Tao stepped forward, signaling that it was time to spar. "Your techniques are solid, but in a real fight, control under pressure is what matters."

We faced each other across the courtyard, tension thickening in the cold air as our qi flared, the pressure between us mounting before a single blow had been exchanged. The ancient stone ground beneath our feet felt as if it could crack under the weight of our energies, frost already beginning to form along the edges. My breath left a mist in the air as I focused on Feng Tao, who stood calm, his eyes unwavering and serene, though his body radiated an undeniable power.

I initiated the assault, drawing on the depth of my qi, letting it flood through my limbs like icy water rushing down a mountainside. With a single exhale, I burst forward, launching the Frigid Gale Strikes, my fists snapping forward, each one releasing a biting wind. The sound of my punches cut through the courtyard like the sharp whistle of a winter storm, the chill trailing my movements. I aimed to overwhelm him, attacking with rapid, successive strikes, my knuckles coated in the freezing air that I sent toward him.

But Feng Tao was more than ready.

His body moved with a grace that defied the force of my assault. He swayed effortlessly, dodging each blow, his figure blurring slightly as his speed outmatched my perception. His feet seemed to glide over the ground, and each time I launched a punch, he was already gone—just a few inches beyond my reach. His movements weren't hurried; they were calm, deliberate, like water flowing around jagged rocks.

"Don't rely solely on offense," Feng Tao's voice cut through my focus as he dodged another flurry. His tone was measured, almost lecturing. "Your opponent won't stand still. Adapt."

I gritted my teeth but knew he was right. I stepped back, recalibrating my approach. Raw strength wasn't enough here—especially not against someone of his level. I had to blend power with precision, to turn my aggression into a strategy. With a deep breath, I centered myself, gathering my qi into my dantian, the core of my being. The energy hummed there, cold and potent, ready to be unleashed.

This time, I channeled my qi into a single attack—Glacial Pulse—releasing a concentrated shockwave of cold that surged toward Feng Tao in an invisible arc, the air around it freezing as it passed. The pulse expanded outward, rippling with dangerous intent.

Feng Tao raised a single hand in response, his movements unhurried. With a slight flick of his wrist, the pulse shattered like ice hitting a wall, dissipating into harmless frost before it could even touch him.

"Better," he remarked, his eyes meeting mine, sharp and discerning. "But not enough. Blend your techniques. Use the pulse to create opportunities—then strike."

His words ignited something in me, and I quickly shifted my stance. I had to combine force with finesse. This time, I wouldn't waste the Glacial Pulse as a standalone attack. I breathed deeply, focusing my mind. I unleashed another pulse, letting it wash through the courtyard, but rather than waiting to see its effect, I lunged forward, following it with a barrage of Frigid Gale Strikes. My fists blurred as I aimed for the vulnerable spots—his ribs, his throat, his legs—each strike moving with precision and intent. The pulse was merely a decoy, forcing Feng Tao to react.

For a fleeting second, I caught him off balance. His hand moved to counter the pulse, just as I anticipated, and in that split second, I found my opening. I twisted my body, throwing a hook aimed at his side. My fist connected, and for the first time, I felt the satisfying resistance of flesh under my knuckles. Cold energy burst from the impact, seeping into him as I landed the hit.

But Feng Tao didn't flinch.

"Well done," he said, stepping back, the cold energy from my strike dissipating as quickly as it had appeared. His face remained composed, though I could see a flicker of approval in his eyes. "You're learning. But remember, there's more to the Dao of Frostwind than brute force."

He raised his hand, and the atmosphere around us shifted. The air, already cold, seemed to still entirely, as though the entire courtyard held its breath. I could feel the temperature dropping even further, but it wasn't the biting chill of my strikes. It was deeper, more profound. The cold didn't move—it settled.

"This is Stillwater Freeze," Feng Tao explained, his voice low, almost reverent. "It's not about speed or force, but control. Absolute stillness. The essence of ice and cold is in its ability to bind, to immobilize without effort."

He extended his hand, and in an instant, the ground beneath him froze over, a perfect, mirror-like sheet of ice spreading outward from his feet. The frost moved with a supernatural grace, covering the stone courtyard in a flawless layer of crystalline ice. The air above it felt thicker, as if the cold had solidified even the atmosphere. I instinctively stepped back, feeling the weight of that frozen energy pressing against me, as though the very world had stilled in response.

"This technique immobilizes anything it touches," he continued, his hand still extended. "You must understand, Jinlong, that Frozen Qi is not always about attack. Control is the key. Ice waits. Ice holds. Ice dominates through stillness."

I swallowed hard, then closed my eyes, letting the lesson sink in. Drawing my qi inward, I allowed it to settle within my dantian, but this time, instead of pushing it outward with force, I let it flow—gently, like a calm river beginning to freeze. I focused not on attacking, but on controlling. The cold within me quieted, becoming a steady, unyielding presence.

I opened my eyes, extending my hand toward the ground as I willed the energy to seep into the earth beneath my feet. Slowly, the frost began to crystallize, spreading outward from my stance in a smooth, controlled sheet. The ice wasn't wild or sharp—it was still, calm, perfect. The air around me quieted, as though it, too, had been frozen by the technique.

Feng Tao watched me closely, nodding in approval. "Good. You're starting to understand. Now hold it—feel the weight of that control. That is the true strength of ice."

I stood there, feeling the weight of the frozen world beneath me, understanding now that true mastery over Frozen Qi was not in the force of a punch or the speed of a strike, but in the quiet, unyielding stillness of the cold itself.

Oh if only stillness was forever