Restless Night – Training Begins
The academy's corridors lay silent beneath the silver moonlight, but Akihiro couldn't sleep.
Humiliation from the day's trial clung to his chest like a curse. The whispers of failure, the stares of the clans — they burned deeper than any wound.
He slipped quietly through the dormitory doors, his footsteps echoing faintly as he made his way toward the empty training grounds. The cool air brushed his face; dew clung to the marble floors.
Akihiro took a deep breath and began channeling his energy. At once, the air thickened — the ground beneath him cracked as invisible pressure coiled from his body. His heart pounded violently, his vision flickered white.
Pain shot through every nerve as his unstable qi surged beyond control. He dropped to one knee, gasping.
Then, a familiar warmth surrounded him — his mother's spirit appeared in shimmering light, her hand hovering near his chest.
"You're climbing a mountain without knowing where your feet should land,"
her voice echoed softly, calm yet firm.
"One wrong step, and you'll fall."
Her presence stabilized the wild current inside him. His breathing slowed; the pain faded.
When she vanished, the courtyard was quiet again — only the faint hum of energy lingered, like a warning.
Morning Training – The Ladder of Power
The next morning, a summoning bell echoed across the campus. Every student — from the noble clans to the outsiders — gathered at the central training arena.
Elder Yueqin stepped onto the stone dais, her robe fluttering gently in the morning wind. She raised her palm, and illusions shimmered into existence around her, forming the Ladder of Power for all to see.
Each stage appeared as a luminous figure:
Energy Building – raw vitality, unmatched endurance. Foundation – bones that harden, wounds that heal. Core Building – energy glowing within like a second heart. Nascent – the spirit child stepping forth, ethereal and radiant. Half Emperor → Full Emperor → Saint → Void – mere silhouettes, but their presence pressed the crowd to their knees.
"Power is not a ladder to climb," Yueqin said, It is a mirror. Those who rush will see themselves shatter."
Murmurs swept through the students. The heirs of the great clans nodded proudly; the outsiders whispered in awe.
Among them, Akihiro stood silently, his eyes locked on the glowing projections.
Inside his mind, his mother's voice returned — gentle and knowing.
"Energy… when you ran against Sola."
"Foundation… when your step cracked the earth."
"Nascent… when your spirit appeared in the ruins."
The realization struck him like thunder. His progress wasn't a gift — it was a curse.
The Tsukihara bloodline was pulling him upward too fast, his body paying the price for every leap.
He clenched his fists, suppressing a surge of unstable qi before anyone could see.
From across the arena, Sola Hoshikawa watched quietly, sensing something off. The light around Akihiro flickered unnaturally.
And from the platform, the Dean narrowed his eyes.
"That boy… carries something ancient," he muttered.
When the demonstration ended, Akihiro was summoned privately to the Dean's chamber.
The Dean's Suspicion
The chamber smelled faintly of incense and old paper. Scrolls floated midair, inscribed with shimmering sigils.
"Your performance," the Dean said slowly, "was… irregular."
He gestured with a wave of his hand — light scanned Akihiro's body, tracing the sealed mark beneath his ribs.
A faint blue flare pulsed there, echoing power not of this world.
"You're hiding something," the Dean said coldly. "Something your body shouldn't contain."
Akihiro said nothing. His mind spun — even he didn't fully understand what was sealed within him.
The Dean dismissed him with a warning:
"Lose control again, and I'll make sure you're never allowed near the cultivation grounds."
Moonlight by the Waterfall
That night, exhaustion and confusion weighed on him.
Instead of returning to his room, he wandered through the moonlit forest at the edge of the academy.
The faint roar of a waterfall called to him — gentle, rhythmic, calming.
Removing his shirt, Akihiro stepped into the shallow pool. The water was cold, clear as crystal, and shimmered like liquid glass. He let it run over his skin, washing away the tension of the day.
A light breeze stirred the surface, creating ripples that scattered the reflection of the moon.
Among those ripples, a blurred image began to take shape — soft light, delicate motion, like a fairy dancing over the water.
He blinked, heart slowing. The figure grew sharper — a woman's silhouette, glowing faintly, her movements serene and mesmerizing. Her hair floated like strands of silver silk, her presence both gentle and unreal.
For a moment, he forgot to breathe.
Then, as the ripples faded, the image vanished — leaving only moonlight.
But a whisper lingered near his ear, soft and haunting:
"You've seen through the mirror once… now it's seeing you back."
Akihiro froze. His reflection flickered, and for a heartbeat, he saw eyes — not his own — staring up from beneath the surface.
The mark on his chest flared with faint light.
He stumbled back to the shore, clutching his chest. The waterfall continued to roar, indifferent, as if nothing had happened.
The night carried on — but the mirror world had begun to stir once more.