Dawn in Jeonghwa brought an unusual stillness. The streets, still damp from the morning dew, reflected the dim light of the sky, and a lazy mist slithered through the alleys. Jin walked silently over the worn stones of the city, his steps muffled by the fog, eyes fixed straight ahead. He carried the weight of all he had faced on his body — and a newly ignited flame in his eyes.
The Officer's Hall was located behind the main courtyard of the company, in a wing where few had permission to enter. When Jin crossed the inner gates, he immediately noticed the curious yet restrained gazes of the guards. Some recognized him. Others simply felt the weight of his presence.
Baekho awaited him before a long, dark wooden table. He was no longer wearing his usual command tunic. Instead, he wore simple ceremonial robes, with the company's insignia embroidered on his chest. Beside him stood a man with white hair tied in a low bun, dressed in gray robes with blue accents, observing Jin with narrowed eyes.
— This is Master Hyun Gak — said Baekho. — He assists us in reading spiritual flows and detecting anomalous disturbances.
— You carry something old — said Hyun Gak before Jin could even bow. His voice was firm but calm. — Something that pulses beyond the flesh. Something... watchful.
Jin remained still. Chi, who had been silent until then, appeared beside him and whispered:
— That old man sees beyond the layers. Stay alert. Don't reveal what you don't want to be discovered.
— Master Hyun felt the rupture in the forest — Baekho continued. — They said a vessel was broken. This isn't a small matter, Jin. This isn't something we can ignore.
— I didn't choose to carry this — Jin responded, his voice firm yet serene. — But I'm not going to run from it either.
The old man's eyes gleamed with a spark of respect.
— It's not a choice you make — Hyun murmured. — It's a choice you uphold.
The meeting ended without a verdict. Without a promise. But with a warning: they would keep an eye on him. And, more importantly, they would prepare him.
That same afternoon, Jin was summoned to the inner courtyard. There, beside weapons protected by enchantments and blackened wooden targets, two instructors from the company awaited him. One for hand-to-hand combat. The other for evasion tactics and Qi channeling.
— Your sword is fast — said the first after the third bout. — But your mind still hesitates between striking and sparing.
— And what if you hesitate when what comes isn't a man? — asked the second, while hurling talismans like projectiles. — You'll fall before you even understand the blow.
Chi observed everything, sometimes laughing, sometimes instructing with a more restrained sarcasm.
— See? It's not just me riding you now. Now there's one with a sword and another with spells.
And yet, Jin didn't back down. His body, once heavy, now moved with agility. His mind, once reactive, now anticipated. He took hits. But he learned. He fell. But he rose.
And with each training session, the voices in the mist grew a little quieter.