Chapter 2: Fear
Currently in the Xin family dog house, an ugly-faced boy sat in the lotus position, deep in thought. Zorai's disfigured face had once been strikingly handsome, but when he was around twelve, a group of village boys decided to ruin it, claiming his good looks had captured the affection of nearly every young woman in the village which he found ridiculous as he was still just a kid, the village men while disfiguring him claimed they tried to court these women, some for love, others for status or power none succeeded as the women claimed they will wait for him to grow up and marry them. Envious and bitter, they understood that the women they desired secretly wished to capture Zorai's heart. So, they beat him until that face no longer inspired admiration.
This was one of the event that made him stopped going outside and without any parent to run and cry to, he stood by his window side that day with his freshly disfigured face and cried while watching other kids play with their peers and parents.
Since that day he couldn't remember ever crying again.
Back to the present. Although the dog house Zorai was staying smells and looks so bad, he didn't mind. Because currently he was deep in thought while writing things down on the floor with his finger as of mapping out a plan.
"I don't have any cultivation method not for my body, not to gather qi, not even to circulate breath properly. Furthermore, I can't cultivate the soul until my soul membrane finishes forming. That usually happens around sixteen, give or take, depending on the body's spiritual sensitivity and trauma tolerance. Mine might be damaged… or developing faster. Who knows.
Even though the Xin family never allowed me to read or train like the others, I still managed to study some basic theory. Not full scrolls—just the scraps. Notes left in half-burned books, loose pages, even passing phrases from lectures meant for others. Most of it was filled with shallow interpretations. Some were overhyped by ignorant elders, others were riddled with contradictions. But thankfully I didn't throw them away. I studied them all. Patterns don't lie when you read enough. I started comparing texts, breaking down similarities in how the body responds to qi, how cultivators first sense the heavens.
From what I understand... There's no known method to force the body into a cultivation cycle without proper breathing techniques, dantian stabilization, or guided spirit flow. But... pain is a trigger. Real pain. Trauma can simulate extreme states of mind-tempering. That's when I had the thought: if I deliberately engage in a desperate, life-or-death battle against a beast especially one with spiritual pressure my body might panic and initiate a pseudo-cultivation response. Not a true breakthrough. Just enough to open something inside me.
The goal is to feel how my natural qi reacts instinctively, my inborn qi—not external heaven qi yet. If I can sense the internal flow even once, then I can start mapping the paths manually. Then, little by little, I might be able to adjust my breathing, posture, and pressure points to simulate a gathering method. It won't be efficient. It won't be stable. But, beggars have no choice.
As for body tempering... most of the books barely mention it. It's treated like a forgotten chapter, or just assumed everyone does it naturally. I know it's not that simple. If it were, more people would survive their first tribulation. But I've figured this much out: tempering isn't just about pain. It's about controlled trauma and recovery. Every time a cultivator pushes past a limit and survives, the body forms deeper roots for qi. That's what I need to simulate. Controlled destruction.
Of course, without guidance, this is reckless. But what other choice do I have? If I wait until sixteen, I'll be crippled by then. Dead, most likely. No one's going to hand me a golden scroll or a master with kind eyes. This is the only door left, and I'm going to break it open—even if I bleed myself dry doing it."
Zorai whispered all this to himself, his voice low and unwavering. He then rose from his meditation and began to plan the first step of his journey.
.
.
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25 Day later, in the high branches of an ancient tree, a masked figure stood cloaked in loose black fabric. In his hands was a worn bow with a crude stone arrow drawn taut. The figure was none other than Zorai, now leaner and slightly more fit. He was hunting.
Zorai had scraped together what little money he had to buy a few basic medicines and balm to treat his wounds. He had also purchased a bow and two arrows. With that, his coin pouch had emptied completely.
He started by hunting normal beasts hares and other small creatures to gain enough nutrition to awaken the potential in his body as he has always been badly feed and in order to hunt or hustle for himself he knew he needed a stronger body. But now, Zorai was preparing to hunt a demonic beast.
He had absolutely no right to face such a creature. Demonic beasts were incredibly powerful and filled with immense vitality. Still, Zorai knew two key things. First, demonic beasts were only slightly more intelligent than normal animals. Second, they all had a glaring weakness their eyes, although not all of them. Even at higher ranks, their eyes were unprotected, and they remained connected to the brain. A single well-placed strike could kill them instantly.
Soon, his target appeared. A Rank 1 demonic beast stepped into view. A Humming Bunny.
The bunny approached the bait Zorai had laid out and began to nibble on it. Zorai, hiding in the treetop, pulled the bowstring back as far as he could. His entire focus locked onto the creature below. Bits of information from his reading surfaced in his mind.
"Humming Bunny... Rank one demonic beast. They're supposed to be mild... loyal... even good pets for beginners," Zorai whispered, narrowing his eyes. "But that fur's tougher than it looks. And its detection? Damn thing hears like a bat—maybe worse."
Zorai understood that this beast was a perfect counter to his plan. Still, he released the bowstring with calm precision and if you were wondering how he learned how to use a bow, that's another story for another day.
The rabbit as if sensing the attack quickly hop high as the arrow brush passed it and it quickly grabbed the food Zorai had prepared for it as a trap and then hopped away joyfully.
Zorai climbed down the tree and reset the bait in frustration.
A moment later, an eerie sound reached his ears.
"Hmmm... hmmmm..."
That humming grew louder, unnatural, and oddly deliberate.
"What the hell is making that sound?" Subconsciously Zorai mutters as he turned his head while still bending over.
And behold less than 3 meters away from him stood a Humming Bunny, its furry face twisted into what Zorai believe to be a vicious smirk. It stared directly at Zorai with unnatural intelligence in its eyes. Then it lunged, exploding forward with shocking speed.
Zorai felt his skin crawl. His breath caught in his throat. An unfamiliar presence welled up inside him.
It was fear.