A radiant full moon hung high in the sky, casting a pale silver light across the land. Wisps of cloud drifted lazily, dyed a deep ocean blue, as if the heavens themselves were cloaked in ink. The moon and clouds stood in silent contrast, one glowing cold and pure, the other heavy with mystery.
The idle gossipers had long dispersed. These were beings from the Divine and Celestial Realms—proud, ancient entities who had grown quiet after the harsh reprimands of their superiors. Though outwardly silent, their minds were stirring.
Some reflected inward, wondering if their lack of diligence had caused them to fall behind even the mortal humans. Others blamed their stagnant cultivation on poor comprehension, while still others questioned their attitude—had they reduced their once-sacred duties to mundane clock-punching routines? Compared to Vera's sincere, burning passion for learning, their own drive seemed dim.
Yet none of them came close to grasping the deeper meaning behind their superiors' words. Though eager to understand, they remained blind to the true nature of their deficiency.
Meanwhile, Vera was focused on a more personal kind of perfection. After countless rounds of refining her crafted artifact—a delicate glass dragon mask—she finally stepped back, examining her work with shining eyes.
"I did it, Master!" she declared with pride, holding the mask up to the moonlight. "Hard work truly pays off, doesn't it? I think I've brought it to at least 80% perfection!"
Her master, Jin Xiu, stood nearby. The moonlight shimmered on his long robe, threads of gilded gold weaving across fabric like constellations in motion. His voice was calm and steady, as if tinged with the hue of oceanic twilight.
"Vera," he began, his eyes reflecting the moon. "The night is a sacred time. A moment where even the strongest beings lower their defenses. It is when one's vulnerabilities surface—whether god, celestial, or mortal. No one is exempt."
He paused, letting the quiet wind rustle between them.
"Even owls, who thrive in the darkness, are not immune to its dangers. And what creature is more familiar with night than the thief?"
Vera's eyes sparkled. She caressed the smooth curve of her dragon mask. "Ah! I see now! You're warning me to be careful—lest some night-dwelling thief steals the mask I worked so hard to create, right?"
Jin Xiu let out a soft chuckle, not in mockery but in gentle amusement. He turned his gaze once more to the moon above, speaking with a thoughtful stillness.
"There are truths that cannot be handed over, no matter how much another wishes to help. Some understandings must be earned through personal struggle—only then will the knowledge become truly yours, a light you carry into the unknown, not one borrowed from someone else."
Vera blinked. She felt the familiar sting of misinterpretation, realizing once again she had misunderstood her master's intent. Her head bowed low. The clouds on the ground mirrored the color of melancholy in her eyes.
Just as her tired body slumped, preparing for rest, Jin Xiu's hand moved silently behind her.
A flick of his wrist summoned a flurry of spiritual energy. In mere moments, shimmering blue barriers shot into the sky. Towering structures—ethereal blue spires—rose within the newly formed array, encircling her.
From outside the barrier, Jin Xiu murmured softly to himself, "Vera... most enemies don't strike with brute force first. They aim for the mind—cracking the spirit, sowing confusion. And when awareness falters, the body follows."
Drowsy, Vera rubbed her eyes and called out, "Master…?"
But no answer came.
Instead, the blue towers surged toward her in coordinated strikes. Vera, still gripping her dragon mask, relied on her acute hearing—her natural gift. She pinpointed the shifting frequencies and sensed the towers' movements just in time to dodge.
She spun around, searching for her master. "Where is he?" she whispered, heart pounding.
Suddenly, dozens of animal-faced masks descended from the sky, shattering upon impact with the ground. Each mask fractured and buzzed with distorted, haunting voices.
"Well, well," one of them sneered, carried on strange frequency waves. "You're barely standing, and still worried about someone else?"
"Who are you?!" Vera snapped, her fatigue momentarily forgotten. "What have you done to my master?!"
Though her shoulders were slumped from exhaustion, her battle stance returned in full force. She inhaled deeply, remembering the lessons etched into her bones.
"No matter how tired you are, your stance is the foundation. The way you hold yourself shapes your spirit."
Her master had always compared fighting to the art of music.
"Just like when practicing an instrument," he'd said, "a correct posture prevents fatigue and brings out true potential."
"The basics are easy to overlook—but the difference between excellence and mediocrity often lies in those invisible details."
With renewed determination, Vera drew her sword.
In one fluid motion, she cleaved through the first approaching tower. The force of her slash split it apart like glass struck by thunder. Her body moved on instinct, but her mind... her heart was elsewhere.
Worry clung to her, whispering alongside the wind: Where is Master Jin Xiu?
She remembered their earlier conversation, one she never quite forgot.
"Master," she had asked hesitantly one day, "you're so powerful. Doesn't that mean… you don't need anyone to protect you?"
He had turned around with a smile that warmed the marrow of her bones.
"Foolish girl," he said gently. "No one, no matter how strong they seem, walks through this world alone."
That moment had planted something in Vera's heart.
A vow.
A vow not forged in desperation, but in love and quiet reverence:
One day, I will become someone strong enough to protect him—not just as a disciple, but as his shield in the storm.
And tonight, in the glow of blue towers and broken illusions, that vow began to burn.
As the moon watched in silence from above, Vera's silhouette stood defiant against the shimmering towers—sword raised, heart alight. She knew she was still far from mastery, far from the strength she dreamed of.
But in that moment, her resolve was absolute.
No matter how dark the path ahead might become, she would walk it with blade in hand and purpose in her soul—until the day came when she could stand beside her master, not just as a disciple, but as his equal.