Morning came without ceremony.
The clearing looked exactly as it had the night before. The logs remained stacked in precise rows. The ground remained compacted and unyielding. The forest did not acknowledge that anything had ended.
Kael stood where he always stood.
The axe rested against his back, its weight so familiar that its absence would have been more noticeable than its presence. His breathing settled into its established rhythm before he consciously realized he had not yet moved.
Nothing compelled him forward.
That was how he knew this place was finished with him.
Footsteps approached from behind.
Kael did not turn.
The 10th Senior Brother stopped a short distance away—not close enough to intrude, not far enough to suggest formality. The spacing was deliberate, shaped by years of shared habit rather than conscious thought.
"You started early again," he said.
Kael answered evenly. "My body wakes before I do. Training is already there. But today… the road feels empty."
The 10th Senior Brother nodded once. He did not look at the logs. He did not look at the axe. He studied Kael's stance—the absence of tension, the lack of sway, the way stillness no longer required effort.
"That's usually how it ends," he said. "Not with exhaustion. Not with celebration. Just the absence of necessity."
Kael finally turned. "You knew it would end like this."
"Yes."
"You didn't tell me."
"There was no benefit," the 10th Senior Brother replied. "If you had known the exact day, you would have measured yourself against it. That would have changed the work."
Kael accepted the answer without comment.
Silence followed.
Then the 10th Senior Brother spoke again, quieter.
"You are ready to leave."
Kael did not ask where.
That answer had already been decided.
Old Master Ren arrived shortly after.
He did not walk into the clearing so much as exist within it, as though distance had briefly decided not to apply to him. He looked the same as he always had—unchanged, unhurried, carrying no visible weight.
Kael straightened instinctively.
Old Master Ren studied him for a long time.
"Your foundation is complete," Old Master Ren said at last. "Your body is flawless in terms of physical integrity. Even in the early years, when your body rejected spiritual energy, it was not refusal—it was incompatibility."
Kael waited.
"It has since learned to consume that energy correctly," Old Master Ren continued, "not to replace its strength, but to supplement it. That was the direction we required. It will continue to adapt."
"You have not cultivated," Old Master Ren said. "You have not refined qi. You have not tempered spirit."
Kael remained silent.
"But your body will not betray you," Old Master Ren finished. "That alone places you beyond most cultivators."
The words were not praise.
They were judgment.
Old Master Ren's gaze shifted to the axe.
"You have learned to carry weight that would crush others," he said. "Remember this: cultivation does not correct weakness. It magnifies it."
Kael nodded. "I understand."
Old Master Ren looked at him steadily. "No. You understand mechanically. That is sufficient for now."
The 10th Senior Brother stepped forward.
"This is as far as we go with you," he said.
Kael's jaw tightened, but he did not interrupt.
"The place you are going will not accommodate you," the 10th Senior Brother continued. "No one will explain patiently. No one will adjust expectations because of your past."
"I know, Senior Brother."
"You don't," the 10th Senior Brother said calmly. "But you will."
He paused.
"And you will survive. That is your second task."
That mattered more than reassurance ever could.
Old Master Ren spoke again.
"Your second task is simple," he said.
Kael waited.
"You are to find me."
Silence fell.
Kael stared at his master. "And if I don't?"
"You will," Old Master Ren replied without hesitation. "The karmic strings between us are already formed."
His gaze drifted, distant.
"It is not a matter of how you will find me," Old Master Ren said. "It is when. Your journey will be far more difficult than your time here. More difficult than the city. But it is the only path that allows you to learn who you are—and where you come from."
His voice lowered.
"Even I do not know your origin."
Kael's breath tightened.
"I have never spoken my true identity to you," Old Master Ren continued. "I have carried many names across the eras. Many titles."
He looked back at Kael.
"To my disciples, I am simply Master."
His eyes sharpened.
"To the world, I am Ondari—the Wanderer. The Traveler. A name that sounds gentle, but carries the weight of one who has walked every corner of existence."
A pause.
"Some call me Ondari the World-Forger—an entity said to reshape universes. Titles are convenient misunderstandings."
Old Master Ren exhaled slowly.
"The being who saved you and placed you in this land is known as Straton Zenobius. His name is known across ages. Not even I can compare to him."
The weight of it settled on Kael.
"He does not feel malice. Nor joy. Nor sorrow," Old Master Ren said. "He has transcended such things. His purpose is unclear, but his name implies aid. And so we accept it. As we must."
Old Master Ren's gaze returned to Kael.
"So come find me," he said softly. "You are no longer little—but you will always be the youngest among your senior brothers and sisters, unless you surpass them."
His voice hardened.
"Endure. Grow. We will need you."
He stared deeply—not at Kael's face, but at his body, at his heart.
"When you uncover the truth of yourself," Old Master Ren said, "trust yourself."
He lifted a finger.
A beam of light entered Kael's brow.
Forging scriptures. Body-refinement foundations. Layered, sealed, waiting for strength to unlock them.
"I was once entrusted with the axe," Old Master Ren said quietly. "In nearly five hundred thousand years, it has acknowledged no bearer."
He looked at Kael.
"You are the anomaly it accepted. It will not harm you. Its intelligence rivals my own. You will learn more from it than from anyone."
His voice softened.
"My child—when all hope seems lost, remember this: you have a family now. We are waiting. And throughout your travels, you will encounter your senior brothers and sisters."
Kael's vision blurred.
"Train," Old Master Ren said. "Grow. And do not lose yourself."
Kael asked quietly, "And if I am forced?"
Old Master Ren answered immediately. "Then endure the consequences."
The 10th Senior Brother allowed himself a faint smile. "You're good at that."
Kael exhaled slowly.
Old Master Ren met his gaze. "Remain intact."
Nothing more was added.
Nothing needed to be.
Preparations took little time.
Kael had nothing to pack.
The axe remained on his back. His clothing was plain. His gloves stayed on. No talismans. No instructions. No protections.
The forest had already given him everything it could.
At the edge of the clearing, the 10th Senior Brother stopped.
"This is where we turn back," he said.
Kael nodded.
The 10th Senior Brother hesitated, then placed a firm hand on Kael's shoulder.
"You are not weak," he said quietly. "Do not mistake restraint for doubt."
Kael looked at him. "Will I see you again?"
The 10th Senior Brother smiled—not sadly, not confidently, but honestly.
"That depends on how far you go."
Old Master Ren spoke last.
"Do not hurry," he said. "Do not stagnate. When the time comes, you will know where to go next."
Kael bowed.
Not deeply.Not ceremonially.Correctly.
Then he turned and walked away from the clearing.
The forest did not follow.
The weight on his back remained.
The weight ahead had not yet revealed itself.
And for the first time in many years, Kael walked forward without repetition to guide him.
Only hierarchy.Only consequence.Only the path he would now be forced to measure himself against.