Dawn broke over the horizon, casting a golden hue across the hamlet. Arthev stirred from his resting place against the tree, the crisp morning air brushing against his dirt-streaked skin.
He stretched, his joints emitting soft pops, before reaching for a few apples from the tree he had cultivated the previous night—red, ripe, and emitting a faint warmth from a quick application of soul power.
He took a bite, the sweet crunch rousing him completely, and placed the remaining apples into a makeshift sack fashioned from his tattered cloak.
"Up and at 'em, huh, Stunned Face?" Shukaku's gravelly voice echoed in his mind.
"What's with the apple haul? Goin' farmer on me?"
"I require funds," Arthev responded calmly, securing the sack onto his back. "The market is my first destination—then the academy. It is imperative that I maintain an appearance of normalcy."
His steps were measured as he departed the hamlet, the golden wheat fields swaying in farewell. The road to Nuoding City meandered through rolling hills adorned with wildflowers—crimson flamebuds and delicate moonlilies fluttering in the breeze.
A merchant caravan trundled past, oxen straining under the weight of grain-laden carts. The drivers offered nods to the scruffy youth trudging along the path. By mid-morning, the towering stone walls of Nuoding City loomed ahead—gray and weathered, flecked with moss. The gates bustled with travelers, their voices blending into a symphony of commerce.
Arthev maneuvered through the market square, a vibrant sprawl of color and sound. Stalls flanked the cobblestone paths, peddling everything from spiced meat skewers to indigo and saffron-dyed silks. Vendors called out in competition, their voices merging with the clinking of coins and the bleating of penned livestock.
His gaze landed on a fruit vendor—a wiry man with a patchy beard—meticulously arranging pears on a worn wooden table. Arthev approached, lowering his sack to the ground.
"Good morning. I have apples for sale."
The vendor glanced up, assessing him. "Oh? A young one with a full harvest? Let's have a look."
Arthev untied the sack, revealing an array of glossy, fragrant apples. The display drew the attention of a few nearby shoppers.
"Freshly picked," he stated.
The vendor let out an impressed whistle, selecting an apple and examining it closely.
"Not bad, lad! These are premium—juicy, too. You have a talent for cultivation. How much are you asking?"
Arthev tilted his head slightly. "A fair price. They are of superior quality—nothing excessive, simply reasonable."
The vendor stroked his beard, considering. "Fair, you say? These will sell quickly, but I must also make a profit. How does ten copper coins for the lot sound?"
Arthev arched an eyebrow. "Ten? These are far from ordinary. They merit a higher value."
The vendor chuckled, scratching his chin. "Sharp one, aren't you? Alright, twelve coppers—my best offer."
"Fifteen," Arthev countered smoothly.
"Their aroma alone will attract customers."
A grin spread across the vendor's face. "You drive a hard bargain, lad! Very well, fifteen it is." He reached for his pouch and counted out the coins, depositing them into Arthev's palm.
"Pleasure doing business. Should you have more in the future, I will buy again."
Arthev inclined his head. "I shall keep that in mind."
With his first sale of the day complete, he turned towards his next destination—the academy.
--------
As he walked through the courtyard, he noticed some students eyeing him, but he paid them no attention. Ignoring their curious glances, he headed straight to Director Su—the last person he had spoken to before leaving the school.
Director Su looked up as Arthev entered his office, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity. "Where have you been? You've been missing for quite some time. I was beginning to think you got lost in the wild."
Arthev offered a slight bow, his voice composed. "I sincerely regret causing concern, Director. I had been wandering, training, and, during that time, I experienced a breakthrough."
Director Su leaned forward, intrigue flickering in his eyes. "A breakthrough? After remaining at level nine for an entire year? Elaborate."
Arthev nodded. "I stayed out there hunting beasts, but I got lost. After a while, I finally managed to obtain a purple soul ring."
Director Su froze. "A purple soul ring as your first ring?" His voice carried disbelief.
"Yes"
"Show me"
Without hesitation,Arthev extended his hand, summoning his martial soul. A tree materialized in his grasp, its presence serene yet imposing. Beneath his feet, a purple ring emerged, glowing with steady intensity.
Director Su's breath hitched, his gaze locked onto the radiant ring as though witnessing a specter.
Arthev remained calm. "A purple soul ring. Just as I said."
"How?!" Director Su demanded. "That's simply unheard of! The body of a first-rank Spirit Master isn't supposed to withstand the energy of a thousand-year-old ring!—how did you manage such a feat?"
Arthev met his gaze steadily. "You must know, I practice my body daily—strength, endurance, and more. I've always believed that physical conditioning is just as important as cultivating soul power."
Director Su narrowed his eyes, intrigued. "Go on."
"Cultivation isn't just about meditation," Arthev explained. "Soul rings contain a beast's very essence, and absorbing one is like standing in the heart of a storm. A fragile body will crumble under the pressure, leading to severe backlash, injury, or even death. But a body honed through rigorous training—strengthened muscles, unyielding bones, and reinforced meridians—can endure and harness that power. For years, I pushed myself—running long distances, drilling in combat, hardening my body against stone. My goal wasn't just strength; it was resilience."
"Listen to you, all high and mighty,"
Shukaku snickered in his mind. "Layin' it on thick, huh, Stunned Face?"
Arthev ignored him and pressed on. "Consider two individuals of identical age and rank. One prioritizes spirit power alone, while the other fortifies his body. The former hesitates before a 300-year-old soul ring, fearing its repercussions. I, however, conditioned myself rigorously. Thus, when faced with a thousand-year-old soul ring, I endured the surge. No trembling, no fractures—just control."
Director Su leaned back, stroking his chin, a mixture of awe and amusement in his expression.
"You are truly a rare case, Arthev. Most children your age—eight, correct?—concern themselves with idle play rather than such rigorous discipline. A purple ring… this will be a tale for the academy's history. Are you certain you did not wrestle a deity during your so-called training?"
Arthev allowed a faint chuckle. "No deities—merely beasts and an unwavering determination. I lost my way, fought my way back. Nothing more."
"Simple, he says," Shukaku muttered.
"More like 'napped a month underground with a tanuki babysitter.' Good thing he's buyin' it!"
Director Su grinned, clapping his hands. "I am simply glad to see you alive—and stronger for it. Get some rest. We will discuss further details soon."
"Understood," Arthev replied with a respectful bow before exiting. Behind him, the courtyard hummed with life once more.