At first, Lyra’s own spiritual energy bucked like a wild colt, slamming against the very meridians that had torn open during their cultivation in the tower. Each strike sent a needle of pain along nerves.
Jared’s spiritual energy. by contrast, moved with the seasoned patience of a shepherd guiding restless sheep. He stroked the turbulent streams into tidy order, ushering them along the meridians until their hostility ebbed into calm.
“Here, hold with just a third of your strength,” murmured as the spiritual energy reached left arm’s Elbow Acupoint. “Picture the spiritual energy as a warm jade pestle, gliding across the meridians, press, never pounding.”
She obeyed, but a spike of sharp heat shot through the damaged meridian, and cold sweat blossomed across brow. That was the very spot where, during the last time in the tower, Lyra had forced herself to contain Jared’s Power of Dragons, leaving behind fine cracks.
“Easy… We have time,” Jared softened his spiritual energy further, turning it to balm that seeped into the ragged meridian. “Empty your thoughts. Feel the spiritual energy the way spring meltwater feels slipping over stone, slow, clear, inevitable…”
Something in the cadence stilled racing heart. She inhaled, conjuring the image of the scene Jared had described.
Gradually, the stabbing ache in meridian dulled. Jared’s spiritual energy coaxed the raw edges together. scrubbing Impurities from own spiritual energy until every thread grew finer and brighter.
Sunlight climbed higher, filtering through ancient pines and speckling the jade arcane array with shifting gold. The Submerged Jade haloed them both in a tender swirl of spiritual energy.
Time vanished. Then, without warning, heat blossomed in Lyra’s elixir field. New-forged spiritual energy surged along meridians, completing one majestic circuit before gathering at fingertips, where it condensed into a single, glass-clear droplet.
As the bead met the flagstones, it rang, a single, crystalline note, as if a jade chime had been struck in the hush. In the very next heartbeat, the droplet shattered, scattering into flecks of spiritual light.
“We did it…” Jared retracted his hand and released a satisfied breath. A smile of relief unfolded across his face. “Your spiritual energy has already thickened into spiritual water, proof that your foundation is finally sound.”
Lyra’s eyes fluttered open. A cool, effortless clarity washed through body, sweeping away the restlessness that had plagued moments earlier until mind shone as still and bright as morning ice.
She lifted sword and gave it an experimental sweep. Spiritual energy clung to the steel in a seamless current, and sword energy had grown more restrained and weighty.
“Thank you, Mr. Chance…” She rose and offered a deep, formal bow, gratitude gleaming in eyes.
Jared waved the thanks away. “This is only the beginning. A steady foundation is nothing without tempered sword technique. Your Snowfall Sword Art is nimble, but an Earthly Immortal Realm cultivator should carry weight as well as grace. Let’s go to the back of the mountain. At Training Cliff, I’ll teach you Bedrock Strike.”
Training Cliff was etched with generations of blade marks from Sword Sect’s disciples. Gusts knifed along its edge, cold and sharp enough to pare thought down to its core, an ideal place to hone a sword heart.
Standing at the brink, Jared snapped a slender branch from a nearby pine and began to sketch in the cliffside iolite. “Bedrock Strike looks savage, but beneath the force lies resilience. Think of these rocks, centuries of wind and rain, yet they stand like anchors in an endless sea.”
The branch barely whispered against the stone, yet a faint groove appeared. At first glance, it seemed ordinary, but a closer look revealed hidden markings coiled inside the line, as though the cliff itself held its breath.
“Your turn… Feed the sword technique with that newly settled spiritual energy. Picture spiritual energy as the Submerged Jade-heavy, yes, yet always mellow to the touch,” added.
Holding longsword, Lyra drew in a calming breath and recalled the still pool of energy had sensed inside the spiritual energy collection array. She then slowly infused the spiritual energy into the sword.
She thrust, sending out sword energy, and when the tip kissed the cliff face, the outward fury folded inward. What remained was a single, tidy bore, precisely deep enough, precisely contained, no waste, no tremor.
