The training yard was little more than a cracked courtyard surrounded by rusting fences and weather-worn dummies, but to Shen, it was a glimpse into something alien—structure. Routine. Discipline.
Soldiers moved like clockwork across the yard, drills echoing like the ticking of a worn-out watch. Some were fast, some strong. A few even carried a faint pressure in the air around them, like they had wrestled with power and won. Shen leaned against a shadowed pillar, arms crossed, silently watching.
He didn't move. He studied.
The flow of Qi. The way their muscles responded to internal energy. Their breathing patterns. All of it fascinated him, not for admiration, but comparison.
Where am I on this path?
He didn't cultivate like they did. His power didn't surge—it pulsed. Blood-fed. Hungry.
Kaela approached with two wooden blades and an unreadable expression.
"You've been staring for half an hour. Either fight someone or stop looking like a stalker."
He gave a dry snort. "Didn't want to embarrass the locals."
She tossed him a blade. He caught it lazily.
"Then come embarrass me."
The mock fight drew attention. A few soldiers slowed their drills to watch, curious to see the stranger Kaela had brought in. Shen stood loosely, blade at his side, body relaxed.
Kaela struck first.
It was a blur—fast, sharp, efficient.
Shen leaned back, shifted a foot, and her strike missed by an inch. She spun into a sweep, but he stepped aside, letting her momentum pass.
He didn't strike.
He watched.
"You're not even trying," Kaela said, annoyed.
"I am," he replied. "Just not the way you're used to."
He finally moved—one quick jab. She blocked it easily, but the force pushed her back half a step.
A ripple of Qi coiled around him for a moment. Not bright like the others, but dense. Vein-deep.
Kaela's eyes narrowed. "You're not Veinkindled. Not normally."
He tilted his head. "You're starting to see it."
They stopped. She called it off with a breath and waved the onlookers away. Some grumbled. One even scoffed loudly.
Shen ignored them.
They moved to a quieter corner.
Kaela folded her arms. "What did you mean by opening your veins?"
He hesitated.
Then, quietly, he told her. About the Crimson World. About the pulse he'd felt. About the Blood Qi Manual, though he didn't name it outright.
Kaela listened in silence. No interruptions. No disbelief. Only when he finished did she speak.
"You didn't just walk a different path. You're carving one with a rusted blade."
"So I've noticed."
She sighed. "That explains the way you fight. No flow. No aura. Just... force. Pressure. It's like your power doesn't move through channels—it breaks them."
He nodded.
"You're beyond Veinkindled in strength. Maybe touching Bloodmarked. But it's wrong. Skewed. No human should be burning this hot so early."
Shen looked down at his hand. It was steady.
"It's not burning. It's refining."
Kaela said nothing for a while.
Finally, she looked up. "People are going to fear you."
"They already do."
"That's not praise. It's a warning."
He gave a small smile. "I don't need praise. Just direction."
Kaela gave him a long look. Then she nodded.
"Come. There's someone I want you to meet. He evaluates combatants. Might help you get a sense of your place among us."
As they walked, Shen glanced once more at the soldiers sparring. They were sharp. Disciplined.
But their power came from within lines. His came from breaking them.
Let's see where I stand.