Chapter 6: A Disciple's Promise

  It had been roughly ten winters since Master Song Shu took me under his wing… or perhaps, I should say, under his paw.

  I had finally achieved what once felt impossible: the completion of the Body Tempering stage. Every meridian in my body had been connected, strengthened through blood, sweat, and countless grueling trials. Even my dantian, that mysterious core I had only heard about in Master’s long, winding lectures, pulsed faintly within me. It wasn’t strong yet, no, but it was there… waiting, breathing, and living!

  Despite my pride, I couldn’t help but reflect on how long it took. Ten full winters. Ten cycles of cold winds, falling leaves, and warm fires under a lonely, ancient tree. Even with all the advantages my Master gave me: the martial arts forged from human wisdom, the harsh but tailored ordeals that honed my body and spirit, it still took this long just to get a feel for what humans called the Qi Gathering stage.

  I turned my gaze toward my Master, and the sight hurt more than I expected.

  Song Shu had aged. His once-brown fur had lightened into a shade of gray so bright it almost glowed under the moonlight. The greatsword he once wielded so proudly was no longer strapped across his back. In its place, he now carried a simple cane carved from the heartwood of the giant tree we called home.

  He didn’t need to say anything… the change in him was plain to see. Every step was a little slower. Every breath was a little heavier. Time, that merciless thief, was slowly stealing him from me.

  As I stood atop the training stone where I had broken countless pebbles and soil beneath my beak, Song Shu approached with deliberate steps. His cane tapped rhythmically against the stone, and with every tap, my heart beat faster.

  "It is time, my disciple," Master Song Shu said, his voice steady but tinged with something heavier, something almost sorrowful.

  I swallowed thickly and nodded. I dared not interrupt him.

  "You have taken your first true step into the world of cultivation," he continued, his eyes gleaming like polished gems under the starlight. "Now, it is time to take the next step. Some say that the Qi Gathering stage is the real beginning. The moment when a cultivator, human or beast, stops being a mere creature bound by time and begins to grasp at eternity."

  He paused, resting both paws atop his cane. His gaze pinned me where I stood, and for a moment, the weight of all the years we had spent together pressed down on my shoulders.

  "Are you ready, disciple?" he asked.

  The wind rustled through the leaves around us, carrying the salty scent of the distant sea.

  I stood tall, or at least as tall as a dodo bird could, and answered with every fiber of my being, "Yes, I am, Master."

  A slow, approving smile spread across his old, tired face.

  "Good," he said simply.

  In that moment, the world felt still… like everything had led to this singular point in time. I wasn’t just a strange bird who had stumbled into a second life. I wasn’t just the laughingstock of evolution anymore.

  I was a cultivator.

  And no matter what storms lay ahead, no matter what monsters, humans, or heavens tried to break me, I would rise.

  For myself.

  For Master Song Shu.

  For the Magical Beast Sect.

  In order to reach the Qi Gathering stage, I had to circulate the energy inside my meridians in one strong, decisive burst, flooding my dantian to the brim.

  Simple in theory. Brutally difficult in practice.

  Reaching completion of the Body Tempering stage had already been an arduous, back-breaking journey, but Master Song had once told me something that stuck with me: humans, even without training, could naturally reach the peak of Body Tempering simply by living in a Qi-rich area, breathing, eating, and existing. Some could even accidentally step into the Qi Gathering stage with the right environment and a bit of dumb luck.

  But beasts like me?

  Master Song said that without bloodline blessings, most magical beasts needed a century at least of growth, life, and a whole lot of killing and eating just to even sniff at Qi Gathering.

  Yet, here I was, standing at the edge of it after a mere ten winters.

  It wasn’t because I was some heaven-defying genius. No golden halo circled my head. No natural phenomenon celebrated my birth. I was just... lucky. Stupidly, blissfully lucky.

  And if there was one thing I learned in my short, confusing life… and in the vague, foggy memories of a past existence lost somewhere back on Earth, it was that luck should never be taken for granted. It should be cherished.

  Master Song hopped onto my back with surprising agility for an old squirrel. I barely even felt his weight anymore.

  He pressed a paw firmly against the top of my spine, and I felt a familiar warmth trickle into me, as soft as river water, yet heavy with purpose.

  "I’ll help you through it," Master Song said, his voice right by my ear, calm and serious. "You only need to follow my lead, understand?"

  I nodded, my beak clicking from the tension.

  Then a memory flashed through my mind… the black sludge, the unbearable stench, the horror of losing all my feathers and washing myself in the river again and again, each dunk more humiliating than the last. I remembered the teasing glare Master Song had thrown at me back then. I remembered swearing I would never let myself smell like fermented dung ever again.

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  So, just for my own sanity, I had to ask.

  "Master..." I swallowed hard. "Will... will anything like that happen again?"

  Master Song barked out a raspy, wheezing laugh… the kind that made his whole body tremble on my back.

  "You silly disciple," he said, flicking my head with a claw, "of course it will happen!"

  I groaned aloud, my wings drooping. "Master, please! Can’t there be a clean breakthrough for once?!"

  "Bah! Clean? Breakthroughs are supposed to be messy, chaotic, and ugly! If it’s clean, it’s not cultivation… It’s cooking dinner!"

  I had no choice but to brace myself. I closed my eyes, focused inward, and let Master Song’s warmth guide the circulation of energy inside me.

  The moment it started, I knew there was no turning back.

  The moment Master Song’s warmth invaded my body, everything else faded away.

  My meridians, which I had painstakingly strengthened over the years, now felt like brittle pipes on the verge of bursting. I grit my beak together and focused on guiding the surge of energy in a single path, like we had practiced a thousand times before.

  The energy rushed, turbulent, and wild. I could feel it trying to escape, trying to shatter me from the inside out.

  No!

  I clenched my internal muscles, forcing it through, forcing it to flood toward my dantian. It was like trying to control a raging river with a handful of pebbles.

  And then...

  Crash!

  It slammed into my dantian like a tidal wave against a cliff… and in that instant, something broke free. I gasped, my vision blurring as a disgusting, foul-smelling black sludge began oozing from my pores again.

  It was just as bad as I remembered. No, worse.

  I felt my body shake as impurities were forcefully expelled, a thick stench filling the air around me. I desperately wanted to gag, but I kept my focus inward. I could feel something forming inside my core… a still, spinning whirlpool of energy.

  "You’re doing good, disciple," Master Song’s voice drifted gently. "Now, listen carefully."

  Through the haze of pain and stink, I focused on his words.

  "Starting from Qi Gathering," Master Song lectured calmly, as if I wasn’t leaking out every bit of filth from my body, "a cultivator strengthens themselves by gathering qi inside their dantian, compressing it into layers."

  He tapped me lightly on the head with his cane for emphasis.

  "Nine layers, disciple. Nine layers are the limit. Each layer makes your foundation stronger, your body and soul tougher. A solid foundation here will determine the height you can reach in the future."

  I groaned weakly, but kept pushing the energy inside, letting it spin and settle. I could feel the first faint glimmers of a layer beginning to form.

  "And," Master Song continued, "your spiritual root now begins to truly awaken. It is during the Qi Gathering that the affinity of your spiritual root is revealed. It could be a pure element like fire, water, earth, air... or it could be a mix, or even something unique. That affinity will decide the path of your cultivation."

  Suddenly, I felt something click inside me.

  A sensation like heavy stone, warm soil, and unmoving mountains wrapped itself around my spinning core. It was solid, unyielding, and comforting in a way I couldn’t explain.

  Master Song grinned toothily as he felt the shift.

  "Earth," he said proudly. "You’ve awakened an earth affinity, disciple."

  I blinked, still processing it.

  "Earth?" I croaked, my throat dry.

  Master Song laughed, patting my side fondly.

  "I had a feeling," he said. "Your body was sturdy even from the start, and your perseverance... It’s just like the earth itself: slow, patient, but never breaking."

  He jumped off my back with surprising energy and pointed at me with his cane.

  "That’s why I taught you the Earth Breaking Spade from the beginning! It’s a martial technique centered on understanding the earth's concept of resistance and how to shatter it in one mighty blow."

  I owed Master Song the world.

  He was the one who taught me how to speak the common tongue, though my clumsy accent often left my words squawking and awkward. He taught me martial arts, grinding into me the motions until they became second nature. He showed me stories of the greater world… of humans, beasts, sects, and legends.

  I learned so much under him.

  By the time I expelled the last of the filthy sludge from my body, I felt... clean. No, reborn.

  Sure, I smelled like a corpse dug up after a monsoon, but inside, I was lighter, freer, and stronger.

  Master Song leapt off my back, landing with a slight wobble. His movements were slower these days. His fur, once sleek, was now a cloud of graying strands. It hurt me to see.

  "You should be able to use your special sixth sense now," he said with a proud twinkle in his eyes. "Some call it Qi Sense. Others, Divine Sense."

  I tilted my head. "What... does it feel like, Master? I’m unsure if I even have it…"

  He chuckled. "Depends on your affinity. Yours is earth. So listen."

  I closed my eyes.

  At first, there was only the sound of the wind, the distant crashing of waves. Then, slowly, I felt it… a subtle hum beneath my feet. Like the breathing of the land itself, solid, constant, and eternal.

  I gasped. "The earth... it's alive!"

  Master Song gave a soft laugh, his small paw patting my side. "Exactly, my disciple."

  Then his face grew somber, and my heart twisted at the sight.

  "Now," he said quietly, "it is time for your final lesson."

  I swallowed hard. A final lesson?

  Master Song walked slowly up the great rock where I had practiced for years. He paused, looking out at the horizon, the sea glinting in the evening light.

  "When I was young," he began, voice distant with memory, "I was but a small, insignificant rodent. A squirrel no one would spare a second glance at."

  I sat down, listening intently, not daring to interrupt.

  "But through stubbornness and luck, I rose. I defied the heavens with every fiber of my being. I reached the peak of Foundation Establishment, a place many would have said was impossible for a beast like me." He chuckled softly. "Maybe it was impossible. But I did it anyway."

  He turned back toward me, his tiny eyes gleaming with pride.

  "In my life, I created two techniques. One of them... I have already taught you: the Earth Breaking Spade."

  I nodded furiously, remembering the endless days of sweat and dirt.

  "And the other," he said, "is this…"

  Master Song inhaled deeply, gathering qi until the very air around him seemed to crackle.

  "This is... Heaven Thundering Steps!"

  In a blur, he stomped forward… and the world responded. A burst of lightning exploded beneath his tiny foot, launching him forward with such force that he shattered a massive boulder, easily twice the size of the one I'd practiced on, into dust and gravel.

  I squawked in awe.

  Master Song didn't stop. He changed direction mid-air, twisting impossibly fast, a burst of qi propelling him. The sky above, once cloudy and heavy, was split apart. A clear blue window opened up in the heavens themselves.

  Following the crackling roar of thunder, Master Song landed lightly before me, his cane tapping the ground.

  He grinned. "I had a strong thunder affinity back in my youth. Not surprising the clouds parted for me, eh?"

  I couldn't even form words. My beak opened and closed like a fish out of water.

  "And now," he continued, voice soft, "the technique you have inherited..."

  He turned and lifted his greatsword… the mighty weapon I hadn't seen him wield for many seasons. It trembled slightly in his grasp, but with a breath, he steadied it.

  "This," Master Song said, pointing the blade toward the endless sea, "is the true Earth Breaking Spade."

  He gathered qi, the earth beneath us rumbling in response. With a single mighty swing, he brought the blade down.

  The earth shuddered.

  The sea parted.

  A temporary ravine split open, a massive scar cut into the water itself, as if the very world had been cleaved by the will of one squirrel.

  I was beyond awestruck.

  It was terrifying. It was beautiful.

  Master Song turned back to me, his eyes fierce, his body trembling slightly from the exertion.

  "Incredible, isn’t it, disciple?" he said, his voice hoarse. "One day... you will achieve this realm too. And then..."

  He knelt, looking up at me with a rare, grave expression.

  "You will surpass it."

  I swallowed the lump in my throat, fighting tears.

  "Promise it to me, disciple."

  I lowered my head, touching my beak to the earth in a deep bow.

  "I promise, Master," I said, voice shaking. "I will rise. I will surpass you. I will honor the Verdant Tail, and the Magical Beast Sect. I swear it!"

  The old squirrel smiled, warm and proud.

  And in that moment, no matter how small or clumsy or hopeless I had once been… I felt truly, utterly, blessed.