The morning mist clung to the mountaintop like a ghost refusing to let go of the earth. A silence heavier than steel blanketed the training courtyard, the chill of dawn sinking into the bones of every student standing barefoot upon the stone. Lucien, Kael, Ren, and the others stood in rigid formation, eyes focused ahead but minds stirring with anticipation.
Tsukihara stood at the edge of the training field, his back turned to the students. He hadn't spoken a word since sunrise. His cloak danced in the breeze, long white hair rippling as if echoing a presence far greater than the moment.
Then, he turned.
"There is someone coming," he said, voice low, edged with something ancient. "And he is not like anything you've faced before. Not a man. Not a beast. Something far more... deliberate."
The students stiffened.
Tsukihara's pitch-black eyes swept over them. "From this moment on, everything you know — every technique, every battle, every teaching — means nothing." He raised a finger and tapped his chest. "It is time to train your souls."
A murmur passed between the students.
"You stand on the edge of the soul's path," he continued, stepping forward. "And that path is not measured by power or skill. It is measured by how deeply you are willing to bleed for growth. Most never walk it. Fewer survive it. But you will have no choice."
He drew a symbol into the air with his hand, a crimson light trailing behind his fingers. A circle, a spiral, and then a vertical line splitting them both. The mark hovered in the air like a burning brand.
"The soul is divided into levels — from one to infinity," he said. "But we categorize them in stages. You will begin at Level 1: the Broken Stage."
Tsukihara looked into their eyes, one by one.
"From 1 to 15: Broken."
"This is the phase where your soul is nothing but shattered fragments. Memories, fears, regrets — they control you. You will feel everything: every wound, every guilt, every pain you buried deep. The weak die here."
He paused.
"From 15 to 30: Mending."
"Once you have seen your own ruin, you begin to patch it. But it is fragile. You will feel illusions of peace, but one thought, one slip of emotion, and you'll fall back to brokenness. This is where discipline is born."
"30 to 45: Purifying."
"In this stage, your emotions burn away. You will purge what is not truly you. Every borrowed belief, every lie you told yourself. Many become monsters here — because it's easier to erase yourself than to confront who you are."
"45 to 60: Cleansing."
"This is the rare stage. You begin to cleanse not just yourself but your very presence. Your steps will alter the air. Your words will carry weight beyond sound. Your soul begins to reject impurity in all forms — even in others."
"60 to 74: Constructing."
"Here, you rebuild. A soul forged by your truth, your pain, your power. You gain the ability to create spiritual manifestations — soul weapons, echoes, clones. Your soul is no longer within — it begins to walk beside you."
"74 to 86: Higher Entity."
"You are no longer human in the eyes of mortals. Your existence gains echoes across the veil. You will start to feel what is unseen. Time may slow in your perception. You become a bridge — between mortality and divinity."
Tsukihara turned his back again, staring toward the distant peaks cloaked in clouds.
"And beyond that… are levels without end. Each one less understood than the last. Infinite stages. Infinite evolution."
Kael stepped forward. "Master… how is this different from what we've trained?"
Tsukihara didn't turn. "Because what you trained before was technique. Style. Movement. Now… you train existence."
The weight of those words dropped like a boulder into the centre of the courtyard.
"The body breaks and heals," he continued. "But the soul — if shattered — may never return. That is why we begin here, in isolation. Among the mountains, where even thought is silenced by the wind. Distraction is death in soul training. Focus is your only weapon."
Ren clenched his fists. "What happens if we fail?"
"You'll die. Or worse," Tsukihara said coldly. "Some souls shatter and scream for eternity. Others fade. And some… become corrupted, feeding off others."
A cold wind swept across the stone. The students stood still, breath misting in the air.
"I will teach you how to survive. But you must go where I cannot follow. Into yourselves."
He raised his hand, and the mountain around them pulsed — an unseen force sealing them within a sacred boundary.
"From this day forward," Tsukihara said, voice low as frostbite, "you are not training to fight. You are training to endure yourselves. You are training… to awaken what was buried the day you were born."
He turned, his gaze like obsidian daggers.
"The one who comes seeks souls unprepared. We will not be among them."
A silence followed. Not one of fear — but of understanding.
The path ahead would not be walked in armour or fire.
It would be walked in silence… soul first.