Chronicles of the Forsaken Soul

Chapter 3: The Tempering of Bones

The dawn light filtered through the trees as Ling Feng stood before Grandfather Wei’s weathered hut, his small hands clenching and unclenching nervously. He felt vulnerable—his thin frame a testament to years of a quiet, unremarkable life. But now, standing at the threshold of something much greater, he steeled himself against his apprehension. He knew this was the beginning of his journey, though it might well break him before it made him whole.

The door creaked open, revealing Grandfather Wei’s sharp, calculating gaze. The old man took a long look at him, his expression unreadable, before stepping aside.

“Come in, boy,” Wei said gruffly.

---

The room was sparse but held an air of quiet authority. Scrolls lined the shelves, their faded parchment rolled tightly. Jars of herbs sat on tables, their pungent scent mingling with the faint crackle of the brazier burning in the corner. Ling Feng lowered himself onto a worn mat, his frail frame almost disappearing into the modest surroundings.

Wei sat across from him, his movements slow but deliberate. “Your mother says you want to learn cultivation,” Wei began, his voice steady but sharp. “That you want to strengthen yourself and control the energy within you.”

Ling Feng nodded, his eyes burning with quiet determination.

Wei studied him for a moment, then sighed. “You’re young, and that works to your advantage. Your body is still growing, still malleable. Bones that haven’t fully hardened can be shaped and tempered more easily than an adult’s. But make no mistake—malleability also means fragility. Push too hard, too fast, and your body will shatter.”

Ling Feng’s fists tightened, the thin skin of his knuckles turning white. He knew he was weak, untested, his arms thin and his legs prone to trembling under strain. But he also knew that weakness was not an option if he wanted to survive in this world.

“I’ll do it,” Ling Feng said firmly. “I’ll endure whatever it takes.”

Wei leaned forward, his sharp gaze locking onto the boy’s. “Cultivation is not about wanting, boy. It’s about enduring. It will demand everything from you—your body, your mind, your soul. You must be prepared to break.”

He reached for a scroll from the shelf, unrolling it carefully. The parchment revealed intricate diagrams of the human skeleton alongside detailed annotations. Ling Feng stared at the scroll, absorbing the images and text.

“This is Bone Tempering,” Wei explained, pointing to the diagrams. “The first stage of Body Tempering and your first step into cultivation. It will strengthen your bones, make them denser, harder, able to withstand the strain of qi. You’re young, so your bones will reshape more easily. But their fragility makes this process risky. Fail to recover properly, and you’ll never walk again.”

Wei gestured toward two more scrolls. “Skin Tempering and Organ Tempering come later. Skin must become tough enough to resist even spirit beasts’ claws. Your organs must endure spiritual energy flowing through them without tearing apart. But for now, focus only on your bones. This is your foundation—rush it, and you’ll crumble.”

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The clearing behind Wei’s hut was serene, bathed in soft morning light. A row of stones lay scattered across the ground, each one marked with faint carvings. Ling Feng stared at them nervously, his hands trembling.

“These stones will temper your body,” Wei said. “But given your age and condition, we’ll start small. The first stone is light enough for you to carry. Pick it up, walk to the edge of the clearing, and come back. Take it slow, listen to your body. This isn’t about proving strength—it’s about building it.”

Ling Feng bent down, gripping the smallest stone with both hands. To his surprise, it was heavier than it looked, and his arms quivered under its weight. Gritting his teeth, he started walking, each step deliberate, each breath slow.

His legs wobbled as he approached the edge of the clearing, but he kept moving. His determination outweighed the ache in his muscles. When he returned, Wei nodded approvingly.

“Rest for a moment,” Wei instructed. “Don’t overexert yourself. With your fragile frame, we must move carefully.”

Ling Feng placed the stone down, sweat dripping from his forehead. He wasn’t used to physical work, and his body screamed for respite. But deep within him, he felt the faint stirrings of something new—a flicker of resilience.

---

When he picked up the stone for his second trip, the chaotic energy within him stirred. It was faint at first, like a gentle ripple in a still pond. But as his legs strained and his arms trembled, the energy grew restless, coiling like a wild beast waiting to pounce.

Ling Feng stumbled, his vision blurring as the chaos surged toward the surface. He clenched his teeth, struggling to hold it back. “No,” he muttered under his breath. “Not now.”

Wei’s sharp eyes caught his hesitation. “Focus,” the old man barked. “Control your breath. Stay grounded.”

Ling Feng forced the energy down, his breaths steadying as he regained control. The storm receded, leaving him shaken but determined. He completed the trip, collapsing onto the grass as Wei approached.

“You held it back,” Wei said quietly. “That’s good. But it won’t always be so easy.”

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Later that evening, Wei handed Ling Feng a steaming cup of medicinal tea. Its bitter taste made him wince, but the warmth that spread through his aching limbs was worth it.

“Now,” Wei said, sitting cross-legged beside him, “you will meditate. Close your eyes and focus on your bones. Visualize them growing stronger, denser, reshaping into steel. Guide your energy—not the chaos, but your inner will.”

Ling Feng obeyed, his breaths slow and steady. He reached inward, searching for the chaos energy that always seemed just out of reach. It stirred faintly, a restless shadow, but he didn’t let it distract him. Instead, he focused on his bones, directing his energy gently toward them.

Minutes passed in silence, the only sound the crackle of the brazier in the corner. Ling Feng’s body trembled, but he felt progress. For the first time, he wasn’t fighting the chaos energy—he was working alongside it, guiding it toward his goal.

Wei watched him closely, his expression unreadable. When Ling Feng opened his eyes, the old man nodded once.

“You’ve done well,” Wei said gruffly. “But this is just the beginning. Tempering your body is a slow process. Be patient.”

---

As the moon rose over the village, Ling Feng stood outside Wei’s hut, staring at the stones scattered across the clearing. His arms and legs ached, his young body trembling under the strain. But deep within him, a spark of determination burned.

He clenched his fists, his gaze unwavering. He knew he was fragile, that his body was weak. But he also knew that he couldn’t afford to remain that way. The chaos within him was both his greatest challenge and his greatest weapon, and he would master it, no matter the cost.

Step by step, stone by stone, he would forge himself into something stronger.

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