Chapter 18: The Xue Sense training

Vanta's footsteps dragged along the dirt as he trudged back to the cave, the distant weight of the battlefield still pressing on his shoulders. The air was heavy with moisture, and the sky had begun to dim into soft purples. Birds chirped somewhere above in lazy spirals, indifferent to the scorched world he left behind.

The moment he stepped into the cave, the quiet hum of fire greeted him—subtle, comforting.

And there she was.

Ash lay curled in the same position he had last seen her, her breathing steady, her pale face soft and still, untouched by the chaos that had stormed the forest just hours before. Her silence somehow irritated him more than the monster he had fought.

"You've got to be kidding me," Vanta muttered under his breath, blinking in disbelief. "She slept through all that ruckus?"

He exhaled sharply, the fatigue he had held off finally collapsing over him like a wave. "I should probably get some too."

Without another word, he stumbled over to his makeshift bed—barely more than dried leaves and a worn cloth—and collapsed onto it, his body sinking in like wet clay. For once, he didn't care about keeping watch or whether monsters were waiting outside. His body had already made the decision.

Sleep hit him fast, dragging him under like a tide.

---

Time passed.

When Vanta finally stirred, his mind felt like it had been scrubbed clean. Every muscle, every cell, hummed with new life. The burning ache he had lived with for days was gone. Replaced with something... fuller. Stronger. His bones didn't creak, his wounds were sealed, and his lungs drew breath so deep and pure it startled him.

The first thing that hit him was the smell—thick, rich, and smoky.

He sat up, blinking blearily. A thin column of smoke drifted toward the mouth of the cave, trailing from a flat rock balanced over a modest fire.

Ash sat beside it, stoic and calm, turning a skewer of golden-brown fish over the flames. The aroma clung to the walls, mixing with the morning dew and the faint char of burned wood.

"Those smell good," Vanta murmured, his voice still thick with sleep. He rubbed his eyes and added with a crooked smile, "Good morning."

Ash turned to him slowly, her expression unreadable, lips pressed in a flat line.

"It's past noon," she said flatly. "You've been sleeping for days. I thought you were dead."

Her eyes flicked back to the fire.

She paused, then added, almost absently, "Your book's been glowing since your nap. You should probably look at it."

The words sunk like stones in his chest.

Days? He blinked, trying to reconcile the still-burning fire in his limbs with the time he had lost.

Had he been that drained?

He scrambled to grab his student ID, the thin piece of polished metal cool against his fingers. As always, it shifted into the leather-bound book the moment his fingers pressed its edge. Golden glyphs shimmered to life.

[Name: Vanta Black.]

[Age: 14.]

[Main Objective: Acquired the Xue Sense.]

[Sub Objective: Processing.]

[Abilities: Shadow Forge.]

[Storage: 2 Items.]

[Health: Normal.]

[Day 9 out of 365.]

[Returning: Null.]

[Xue Sense Achieved by Students: 6 / 967.]

"Returning is null now…" he whispered, frowning. "Guess that means… if I die now, I stay dead. No more auto-revive."

Six had achieved the Xue Sense. That meant five others besides him. A small number, but not impossible.

He looked up at Ash. "I've achieved the Xue Sense, by the way. All that's left is for you to—"

"I've had it for as long as I can remember," she said, tossing him a piece of fish without so much as looking in his direction. "Probably born with it."

Vanta nearly choked on air. "Wait—what?! That's… that's impossible!"

No one was born with the Xue Sense. It was an earned thing. Born from death's embrace. A threshold no child should cross. History made that clear. Generations had fought for it, trained for years, even died chasing it.

"You're joking, right?"

Her silence answered for her.

The memory returned—when he first accessed his book, three names already carried the Xue Sense. She had to be one of them.

Were the other two born with it as well? Or did they survive their own trial? Either way, Ash wasn't just a mystery—she was an anomaly. One he couldn't afford to let slip away.

"I actually do," she replied, chewing slowly. "Probably why I could use my abilities from the start, and you couldn't."

That made sense. Her strange mist. Her control. The way she moved through battles like they were rehearsals. It wasn't arrogance—it was familiarity.

"Then what's the point of this whole exam?" he asked, mouth full. "If we've both achieved the Xue Sense, shouldn't that be the end of it?"

Ash took a sip from a wooden cup she'd carved herself, her gaze unfocused. After a pause, she spoke, voice low and almost thoughtful.

"Maybe there's more. My guidebook says 'processing' under sub-objective. Maybe once that's done, we'll be fully through with the trial."

Vanta nodded slowly. "Yeah… you're probably right."

They ate the rest of their meal in silence, the crackling fire a steady background to their thoughts. When they were done, they swept away the ashes and cinders, the scent of smoke lingering long after.

Ash rose and stepped outside, pausing by the entrance. "Come," she said. "I want to see something."

He followed her into the clearing, the canopy above letting golden light pierce through in jagged beams. They stood apart, a breath of wind stirring leaves between them.

"What ability do you have?" she asked.

He blinked. "Shadow Darkness," he replied hesitantly. "I mean, obviously. It's the Black Clan's core ability."

Her eyes narrowed. "I meant your sub ability. The one that's unique to you."

"Oh. Right." He scratched the back of his neck. "Shadow Forge. I can… create stuff. From darkness or shadows."

Her head tilted slightly. "A contradictory ability, huh?"

A faint mist began to bloom from her palm—a dark haze, seeping like ink in water. It curled gently in her hand, then twisted like a living thing.

"Mine's Shadow Erosion," she said quietly. Her gaze lifted, meeting his. It was sharp. Cutting.

"Our clan doesn't fight like others," she began. "We don't shout names or make speeches. The most important thing we wield isn't even our ability—it's our color. Its density. Its control."

She let the mist evaporate.

"Start there. Learn how to control your color. The Xue Sense will help. Flow it slowly. Paint cleanly. Minimal input. Maximum output."

Ash stepped closer, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. Then she showed him how to relax. The proper stance. Where to draw breath. How to let go.

It wasn't unfamiliar to Vanta. But with the Xue Sense, everything was different. His senses were amplified—his skin buzzed with life, and even the light filtering through the trees had depth. Colors felt heavier, more alive.

He sat on the forest floor, palms on his knees.

Now came the real work.

Learning to master his color—his soul, essentially. The flow had to become natural. Innate. Like breathing. To paint with one's own essence and not waste a drop.

A painting was the result. Painting was the act. The stronger the color used, the more powerful the effect.

"When you've mastered this," Ash said, stepping back, "we'll move to combat training."

Ash wasn't the most gifted teacher—her words were blunt, her instructions laced with impatience. But she knew what mattered. And she didn't waste time sugarcoating it.

Vanta sat cross-legged, brow furrowed in concentration.

He used to be good at this. Back at the academy, he was one of the best fighters. But this… this wasn't like before.

This was different.

Now, the weight of his color could burn through his chest. The strain was real. The price of failure was real.

Sweat dripped down his temples, soaking the collar of his shirt. His arms trembled with each attempt to direct the color without bleeding too much of it. Every mistake was a loss.

Don't waste it.

Blend it.

Make it yours.

"Just get it once and for all. Incorporate it into your being. Be one with the flow..."

The sun climbed higher in the sky, and the air thickened. Flowers bloomed faintly in the underbrush, their sweet scent barely masking the salt of his sweat.

But Vanta didn't stop.

Because now, everything had changed. He wasn't just fighting to survive.

He was preparing for what was coming.