Chapter 14: Slaves and the “Price”
Ron recognized the gravity of the moment. The last time he practiced his physical training, the energy had nearly overwhelmed him. But this time, he had learned precisely how to control it.
He drew a deep breath and began to guide the turbulent force using the unique rhythm of the Coronary Breathing technique. Initially, the energy roared through his meridians like a blazing inferno—wild, chaotic, untamed. Yet, with patient adjustment of his breath, the fury of the energy gradually subsided, settling into a focused stream.
System Message:
Perfect guidance rhythm detected
Control: High
Gain additional attribute improvement: Constitution +0.2
Constitution: 1.2 → 1.4
Just as he was harnessing the energy fully into his meridians, Ron sensed something unusual. In his inner vision, the surging energy arranged itself into a pattern—a miniature sun, slowly spinning inside him. Instantly, it reminded him of the vision he had seen during his first training session—but this time, it was sharper, infused with profound meaning.
"Stay focused," Andre's voice crackled in his mind, now tense. "You're about to see something…something important."
And then he did. The internal sun wasn't merely decorative; it represented a manifestation of some deeper cosmic law, perfectly in sync with the Coronary Breathing rhythm.
System Message:
Unlock special perception: Solar Rhythm
– Understanding of Yang Energy ↑
– "Coronal Breathing" practice speed ↑
"I see it…" Ron thought. The name "Coronal Breathing" made sense now—not only did it summon energy like the sun, but it also mirrored the sun's inherent rhythms.
Once the final pulse of energy settled into his system, Ron opened his eyes. Andre stared at him, a tangled expression on his face.
"You…" he attempted to speak, then paused. "You saw the sun-wheel pattern?"
Ron nodded. "I didn't just see it—I felt its meaning."
Andre exhaled slowly, as though a storm had passed. "Unbelievable. I didn't reach that level of insight until the second cultivation stage. And you're only on your second body-training session…"
He let the statement hang. Ron understood—grasping the essence beyond mere completion of an exercise was rare.
...
As they made their way back to the dormitories, Ron's mind reeled with today's breakthrough. The glowing star grass he had revived remained active because he unconsciously synchronized its energy with the Coronary Breathing rhythm. Each breath regulated its flow, keeping it alive.
"What are you thinking about?" Andre interrupted.
Ron paused. "I was wondering…do all supernatural forces have their own specific 'rhythm'?"
Andre raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"Well," Ron explained, "just as the star grass stays alive with its rhythm, and the burning essential oil must match our breathing technique to be effective…perhaps mental power—like psychic energy—also has a rhythm?"
At this, Andre's eyes lit up. "You mean if we could uncover the mental energy's rhythm, meditation could proceed ten times faster?"
"Definitely worth exploring," Ron nodded. "Mrs. Allen said she'd teach me how to brew a simple potion today. I might glean some inspiration from that."
They reached the dormitory corridor just as hurried footsteps approached. A young girl, dressed elegantly yet appearing disheveled, rushed past. The scent of her perfume masked faint hints of sweat and fish. It was Emily, a fellow apprentice. Earlier, she had claimed to be the daughter of a duke. Now, her collar was unbuttoned, her makeup smudged, a flush on her cheeks.
Upon seeing Ron and Andre, her face reddened. She hurried past and disappeared around the corner.
Andre scoffed. "Another one."
"What's going on?" Ron asked.
"Don't tell me you've never heard," Andre said, disdain creeping into his tone. "Apprentices who pass the exam have the right to recruit slaves. Those who see no future here sign on early—as slaves—to secure a way out."
He shook his head. "Emily's gone to apprentice under Marcus in Tower 3. That guy's infatuated with collecting pretty slaves. He's got five or six by now."
A deep gloom clouded Andre's face. "Marcus's twin brother taught him some cursed witchcraft—stuff that extracts mental power from slaves. I heard one of his captives ended up a mindless husk."
His voice dropped lower. "Still, people sign up. In the Black Mist Jungle, survival is the only luxury."
Ron fell silent. In the realm of wizards, power equates to life or death. Hierarchy is law.
"But you," Andre continued, his voice softer, "you've found a hidden opportunity. Mrs. Allen may be stern, but from what I've seen in these past two days—she's kind."
Ron nodded, comforted by Andre's words.
He retrieved the small vial of artificial star dew in his pocket, which he had received from Mrs. Allen. "Why do you think Apprentice Holt chose to give me something so precious?"
"Talent, maybe?" Andre offered cautiously.
In the Black Mist Jungle, any kindness isn't free—there's always a catch. "If you progress in this academy, you'll owe a reward," Andre added, voice tinged with warning.
Ron acknowledged the truth. Every gift had an unspoken "price."
The dormitory courtyard was quiet. Twilight fell in soft lavender hues as Ron prepared for his evening routine. The vial of star dew glinted in his palm.
Could energy really be rhythmic? he wondered. If mental energy held a pulse like breathing, perhaps he could align that pulse with magic itself.
Tomorrow, he'd begin testing this theory: meditating in sync with pulse patterns, noting whether his concentration deepened, his insights sharpened.
He felt anticipation flutter in his chest. Today he had seen the miniature sun inside him. Tomorrow…who knew how brightly he might shine?
End of Chapter 14
Notes on revisions and clarity:
Simplified inner thoughts and energy descriptions to improve pacing and immersion.
Streamlined transitions between dialogue and action.
Clarified exposition—Andre's explanations about slaves and Marcus's witchcraft threat are more direct.
Refined the emotional beats—especially Ron's curiosity and determination are highlighted.