Chapter 7

The second day of training dawned colder, a sharp wind slicing through Stone Hollow from the Iron Fang Range. Ren Kai stood in the training yard, his gray robes snapping against his legs, the Fang Crystal shard a steady warmth at his belt. His qi hummed beneath his skin, restless after a night of fitful sleep haunted by dreams of the summit—blue light, stone claws, and a voice that wasn't his own. The stone from his father sat heavy in his pocket, its rune a silent taunt he couldn't ignore.

The yard buzzed with activity as disciples paired off under Lian Xue's watchful eye. Elder Han was absent, leaving her in charge, and her commands rang out crisp and unrelenting. "Storm Claw Strike—form it, hold it, strike! No hesitation!" Kai partnered with Jia again, her staff gleaming with green qi as she drilled beside him. Her ankle was healing, her movements surer, but her eyes flicked to him often, curious and cautious.

Kai focused on the Storm Claw Strike, the technique that had eluded him yesterday. He breathed deep, channeling qi to his hand, picturing it as claws of energy. Blue light flickered at his fingertips, jagged and unruly, but it held longer this time—three ghostly talons shimmering in the air. He thrust forward, aiming at a wooden dummy, and the claws slashed across its chest, gouging shallow lines. Splinters flew, but the energy dissipated too soon, leaving him panting.

"Closer," Lian Xue said, appearing at his side. "Your qi's strong, but it's scattered. Tighten your focus—imagine gripping the flow, not just pushing it."

Kai nodded, wiping sweat from his brow. He tried again, narrowing his mind to a single point. The claws formed sharper, slicing deeper into the dummy, and a faint crack echoed as the wood split. Jia whistled. "Getting there, Stone-Heart."

"Still sloppy," he muttered, shaking out his hand. The qi felt like a live thing, eager to escape his grasp. He glanced at Lian Xue. "How long did it take you?"

"Months," she said, her tone clipped but not unkind. "You're rushing it. Power like yours needs time—or it'll burn you out."

Before he could reply, a shout broke the rhythm of the yard. Deng, the scarred disciple Kai had bloodied yesterday, stormed over, his two cronies trailing. His jaw was bruised, his glare venomous. "You think you're special now, cripple?" he snarled. "One shard doesn't make you a Fang."

Kai straightened, keeping his qi leashed. "I don't need to prove anything to you."

Deng smirked, red qi flaring around his fists. "Prove it anyway."

Lian Xue stepped between them, her presence a wall. "Back off, Deng. You lost once—don't make it twice."

Deng hesitated, then spat at Kai's feet and stalked off, his lackeys scurrying after. The yard settled, but the tension lingered, a ripple through the disciples' murmurs. Kai clenched his fists, the qi pulsing in time with his anger. He'd won his place, but some wouldn't let it go.

Midday brought a shift. Lian Xue gathered the disciples around a stone circle at the yard's edge, its surface etched with claw marks from years of training. "Sparring," she announced. "No weapons, just qi and technique. Learn your limits."

Kai faced Jia first, her staff left aside. She grinned, green qi coiling around her hands. "No holding back," she said, lunging with a palm strike. Kai dodged, his own qi flaring blue, and countered with a clumsy Storm Claw. The claws grazed her arm, drawing a hiss, but she twisted, slamming her elbow into his ribs. He stumbled, catching her wrist, and they grappled, qi clashing in sparks of light.

"Sloppy," Lian Xue called, circling. "Jia, use your feet. Kai, stop flailing."

They broke apart, breathing hard. Kai adjusted, planting his stance, and struck again. This time, the claws held, raking the air as Jia leapt back. She nodded, impressed. "Not bad."

The sparring stretched on, Kai facing others—some weaker, some stronger. His qi grew steadier with each bout, the blue claws sharpening, though exhaustion tugged at him. By the time Lian Xue called a halt, his robes were soaked, his hands trembling, but a grin split his face. He was learning—slowly, painfully, but learning.

As the disciples dispersed, Lian Xue pulled him aside, her expression serious. "I asked about your father," she said, voice low. "Elder Han wouldn't talk, but Shen let something slip. Ren Tao didn't just vanish—he was chasing something. A relic, tied to the peak's core."

Kai's hand drifted to the stone. "This?"

"Maybe," she said. "Shen clammed up after that. Said it's 'elder business.' But I saw his face—he's scared."

Kai frowned, the stone's weight heavier now. "My mom knows more. She won't tell me."

"Push her," Lian Xue said. "If it's tied to your qi, you need to know—before someone else does."

He nodded, resolve hardening. "Thanks."

She shrugged. "Don't thank me yet. Trouble's coming—I can feel it."

That evening, Kai returned to the hut, his body aching but his mind sharp. Lin Mei greeted him with a bowl of rice and dried fish, her smile weary. "You're pushing hard," she said, watching him eat. "Like he did."

Kai set the bowl down, fixing her with a steady gaze. "Ma, I need the truth. About Dad, the stone, all of it. I'm not a kid anymore—I've got qi now, and it's tied to what he found."

Her hands stilled, the familiar tremble returning. "Kai…"

"No more dodging," he said, pulling the stone from his pocket. "This saved me up there. It killed wraiths, broke a guardian. You said it was his—what did he find?"

She sighed, sinking onto a stool. "Your father… he was obsessed. After his Trial, he came back with that stone and a wild look in his eyes. He said it was a key to the mountain's heart—something older than the clan, buried deep. He wouldn't let me near it, said it was dangerous."

She sighed, sinking onto a stool. "Your father… he was obsessed. After his Trial, he came back with that stone and a wild look in his eyes. He said it was a key to the mountain's heart—something older than the clan, buried deep. He wouldn't let me near it, said it was dangerous."

"He didn't explain," she said, voice cracking. "But he changed. His qi grew strange—sharp, like yours, but unstable. He went back up, alone, to find answers. That was the last I saw him."

Kai stared at the stone, its rune catching the lamplight. "And you kept it hidden?"

"To protect you," she said fiercely. "I thought if you never knew, you'd stay safe. But the mountain found you anyway."

He closed his fist around the stone, qi flickering blue at his knuckles. "I'm not running from it, Ma. Whatever he found, I'll finish it."

She reached for his hand, her grip frail but firm. "Just promise you'll come back to me."

"I will," he said, meeting her eyes. "Always."

Sleep eluded him that night, the stone's pulse a faint echo in his palm. He rose before dawn, slipping out to the training yard as the village slept. The air was still, the peak a dark silhouette against the stars. He stood before the stone pillar, qi surging to his fist, and struck. The Storm Claw flared—three blue talons, clearer than ever—crashing into the rock. Cracks spiderwebbed from the impact, and a chunk broke free, thudding to the ground.

Kai exhaled, a grin tugging at his lips. Progress.

A rustle broke the quiet. He turned, qi flaring, but it was only Old Man Shen, hobbling from the shadows. "Knew you'd be up," the tinker said, his grin gap-toothed. "Can't sleep with that fire in you, eh?"

Kai relaxed, pocketing the stone. "You know more than you're saying, Shen. About this."

Shen's grin faded. "Aye, maybe. Your dad was a friend—too curious for his own good. That stone's old, lad. Older than the clan. Found it near the ravine, same as I told you, but he dug deeper. Said it called to him."

"Called how?" Kai asked, stepping closer.

Shen shrugged, uneasy. "Didn't say. Just went back up—and didn't come down." He glanced at the peak. "It's waking again, Kai. I feel it in my bones."

Before Kai could reply, a tremor shook the ground, faint but real. A low rumble rolled from the mountain, and in the distance, a blue glow flared briefly at its summit, then

Kai's hand tightened on the stone, his qi stirring. "What's waking?" vanished. Shen paled. "See? Trouble."

"Dunno," Shen muttered. "But it's big—and it's watching you."

The old man shuffled off, leaving Kai alone with the pillar's cracks and the peak's whisper. His father's legacy, the stone, the mountain—they were threads in a web he couldn't yet see. But as the first light of dawn touched the yard, he squared his shoulders. Whatever stirred, he'd meet it head-on.