Chapter 6

The morning sun hung low over Stone Hollow, its light filtering through the pines to dapple the training yard in gold. Ren Kai stood at its edge, the Fang Crystal shard tucked into a leather pouch at his belt, its faint glow hidden but its presence a steady hum against his hip. His patched tunic had been replaced with the gray robes of an outer disciple, the claw sigil of the Iron Fang Clan stitched in black thread over his chest. The fabric felt stiff, unfamiliar, but it marked him as something he'd fought to become: a warrior, not a cripple.

Around him, a dozen other disciples milled about—some fresh from the Trial like Jia, others seasoned Copper Fang initiates who'd survived their own climbs years ago. They stretched, sparred lightly, or adjusted their gear, their qi flickering in faint auras of green, blue, or red. Kai's own qi stirred beneath his skin, a restless blue tide he could feel but not yet master. He flexed his hands, still bandaged from the peak, and took a deep breath. Today was his first step as a disciple. He wouldn't falter.

Elder Han emerged from the elder's hall, his gray robes billowing as he strode into the yard. Lian Xue followed, her silver-edged attire setting her apart, her shortsword sheathed but ever-present. The disciples straightened, falling silent under Han's piercing gaze.

"Trial's over," Han began, his voice a growl that carried over the wind. "You've got your shards, your rank. Copper Fang's the bottom rung—weakest of the weak. If you want to climb higher, you'll bleed for it. Starting now."

He gestured to Lian Xue. "She'll oversee your training. I expect no whining, no slacking. The mountain spared you once. It won't again."

Lian Xue stepped forward, her eyes sweeping the group. "Pair up," she said, her tone clipped but clear. "Basic forms first—Iron Fang Fist, Storm Claw Strike. I'll correct your mistakes. Move."

The disciples scrambled to obey, pairing off with practiced ease. Jia, her ankle wrapped but her limp slight, caught Kai's eye and nodded. "You're with me," she said, hefting her staff. "Let's see what that qi can do."

Kai grinned, falling into stance beside her. "Don't cry when I knock you flat."

"Bold words," she shot back, twirling her staff. "Prove it."

They began with the Iron Fang Fist, the clan's foundational technique. Kai had drilled it for years, his body moving through the forms by rote—step, pivot, strike. But now, with qi flowing, each punch felt different. The energy surged to his fist, a blue flicker sparking at his knuckles, and the air snapped with force as he struck an imaginary foe. Jia mirrored him, her own qi a steady green sheen along her staff, her movements sharper despite her injury.

Lian Xue circled the pairs, her voice cutting through the grunts and thuds. "Too slow, Chen! Focus your qi, Mei—don't waste it!" She stopped beside Kai, watching his form. "You're forcing it," she said. "Let it flow, not flood."

Kai nodded, adjusting. He slowed his breath, picturing the qi as a stream, not a torrent. His next punch was smoother, the blue glow steadier, and the impact echoed off a nearby pillar. Lian Xue gave a curt nod. "Better. Keep at it."

Jia smirked. "Show-off."

"Says the girl with a glowing stick," Kai retorted, ducking as she swung her staff in mock retaliation.

The drills stretched into hours, the sun climbing higher. Kai's qi grew more responsive, though it still slipped from his grasp when he pushed too hard. Sweat soaked his robes, but he relished the burn—every ache was proof he'd crossed a threshold. The other disciples cast sidelong glances, some curious, some wary. Stone-Hearted Kai, the unawakened fool, had returned from the peak with a shard and a spark. Whispers followed him, but he ignored them. Let them talk. He'd prove himself with fists, not words.

Midday brought a break, the disciples sprawling across the yard with waterskins and muttered complaints. Kai sat against a pillar, Jia beside him, both catching their breath. She stretched her leg, wincing slightly. "You're a natural," she said. "Sloppy, but natural."

"Years of hitting rocks," Kai replied, sipping water. "Guess it paid off."

She glanced at his pouch. "That shard—it's different from mine. Brighter, somehow."

He shrugged, keeping his tone casual. "Maybe I grabbed a shiny one."

Jia's eyes narrowed, but she didn't press. Before she could say more, a shadow fell over them. Kai looked up to see three older disciples—Copper Fang veterans, their robes worn but their stances cocky. The leader, a broad-shouldered boy with a scar across his cheek, smirked down at him.

"So, the cripple's a disciple now," Scar said, his voice dripping disdain. "Heard you got lucky up there. Killed a guardian, huh?"

Kai set his waterskin down, standing slowly. "Something like that."

Scar stepped closer, his qi flaring—a dull red haze. "Luck doesn't make you one of us. Let's test that shiny new qi of yours."

Jia rose, staff in hand. "Back off, Deng. He passed the Trial—same as you did."

Deng sneered. "Stay out of it, runt. This is between me and the kitchen boy."

Kai's jaw tightened, but he kept his voice level. "You want a fight? Fine. No qi, just fists. Like the old days."

Deng laughed, cracking his knuckles. "Your funeral."

Lian Xue watched from a distance, arms crossed, but didn't intervene. The other disciples formed a loose circle, eager for a show. Kai dropped into stance, qi simmering beneath his skin but held in check. He didn't need it—not yet.

Deng charged, his fist a blur. Kai sidestepped, years of muscle memory guiding him, and slammed an elbow into Deng's ribs. The older boy grunted, staggering, then swung again. Kai blocked with his forearm, pain flaring, and countered with a sharp jab to Deng's jaw. Bone crunched, and Deng stumbled back, spitting blood.

"Enough!" Lian Xue's voice cut through the air. She strode over, glaring at Deng. "You asked for it, and he answered. Get up and stop embarrassing yourself."

Deng wiped his mouth, glaring at Kai but backing off. His cronies followed, muttering. The crowd dispersed, some nodding at Kai with grudging respect. Jia clapped his shoulder. "Not bad. You didn't even need the glowy stuff."

"Old habits," Kai said, shaking out his stinging hand. But inside, his qi pulsed, eager for more.

Evening fell, painting the yard in twilight. Training ended with the Storm Claw Strike, a technique Kai struggled to grasp—his qi flared too wildly, scattering the claw-like energy before it could form. Lian Xue promised he'd get it with practice, but her patience was thinning. As the disciples trickled away, she pulled Kai aside.

"You're holding back," she said, her eyes sharp. "Not with Deng—that was smart—but with your qi. Why?"

Kai hesitated, then pulled the stone from his pocket. "This. It's tied to what happened up there. I don't know how to use it—or if I should."

Lian Xue studied it, her fingers brushing the rune. "I've seen marks like this. Old ones, from the peak's depths. Where'd you get it?"

"Old Man Shen," he said. "Said it was a trinket. My mom says it was my father's."

Her brow furrowed. "Your father… Ren Tao?"

"You knew him?" Kai's pulse quickened.

"By name," she said. "He was a disciple before my time—strong, reckless. Disappeared on a solo climb. The elders don't talk about him." She handed the stone back. "Keep it quiet. If it's what I think, it's trouble."

"What kind?" he pressed.

"The kind that gets you noticed," she said cryptically. "Focus on your training. I'll dig into it—discreetly."

Kai nodded, pocketing the stone. As she walked off, a chill settled over him. The mountain's secrets were creeping closer, and he wasn't sure he was ready.

Back at the hut, Lin Mei greeted him with a bowl of thin stew and a tired smile. "You look stronger," she said, watching him eat. "The robes suit you."

"Thanks, Ma," he said between bites. "Training's tough, but I'll manage."

She nodded, but her eyes lingered on the pouch at his belt. "That shard… it's like his, isn't it?"

Kai set the bowl down, meeting her gaze. "You mean Dad's?"

She sighed, turning away. "Just be careful, Kai. Power like that—it changes people."

He didn't reply, but her words echoed as he lay on his mat that night, the shard's glow a soft pulse beside him. The stone rested in his hand, its rune a silent question. Training would sharpen his qi, but the mountain—and his father's legacy—loomed larger than ever.

Outside, the wind howled, carrying the peak's whispers. Kai closed his eyes, resolve hardening. Whatever came, he'd face it head-on.