The air in the room, once thick with the shock of Silak's revelation, slowly settled.
Iskra, recovering first, poured them all another cup of herbal tea, its fragrant steam a calming balm. Bayani stroked his chin, his gaze distant as if calculating the immense implications of his son's talent. After the silence stretched for a comfortable moment, Silak gently steered the conversation back to his unanswered question.
"So…" he began, a little hesitant to break his father's deep contemplation. "As I was asking, Father, Mother… is there a way for me to better temper and strengthen my foundation while I am in the Qi Gathering stage?"
He had already come to terms with his reality. If fate intended for him to be stuck at this stage, then he would turn this prison into a fortress. He would use the time to build a foundation so powerful, so immense, that when he finally broke through, his ascent would be unstoppable. The frustration from last night was no longer a weight but a whetstone upon which he would sharpen his resolve.
Rajah Bayani's eyes refocused on his son, a flicker of pride within their depths. "An excellent question," he rumbled, his voice full of paternal warmth. "A cultivator's foundation is intrinsically tied to their very nature—their lineage and race."
He leaned back in his chair, adopting the posture of a teacher. "Consider the demonic beasts of the deep woods. Their power lies in the purity of their ancient bloodlines; a stronger bloodline means a deeper foundation. The ethereal spirit races, like the Elves of old tales, build their foundation upon the strength and clarity of their souls. For them, the body is but a temporary vessel."
He paused, letting the words sink in before continuing. "And for Humans like us? Our greatest strength lies in our Corporeal Body and our adaptability. We may not have the raw physical might of a beast or the innate spiritual connection of an elf, but our gift is our ingenuity. We are a blank slate, capable of learning and mastering countless paths. Our lack of specialty, son, is our greatest specialty."
"Your father is right," Iskra added, her voice carrying a gentle strength. "And the path for strengthening a human's foundation is the Corporeal Refinement Realm. You are now at the Bronze stage, a result of the wholesome food and basic training you've received since birth. But it is time to consciously work your way toward the Iron stage."
She looked at Silak intently. "The known tiers of refinement are Bronze, Iron, Steel, Silver, and Gold. Think of it this way: at the Bronze stage, your body is hardy. At the Iron stage, your skin can deflect a poorly aimed arrow. At the Steel stage, your bones can withstand the blow of an iron mace. Each tier is a profound transformation, making your body a true weapon and a fortress for your Qi."
After hearing his parents' answers, a fire ignited in Silak's chest, a burning passion to conquer this new frontier. The bottleneck in his Qi cultivation now seemed like a blessing in disguise. It was an opportunity to dedicate himself wholly to advancing his Corporeal Refinement, forging a vessel worthy of his ambitions.
The old proverb of the tribe's elders echoed in his mind: When Heaven closes a door, you have two choices: break it down or carve your own window through the walls of this world.
'We had a similar saying in my past life,' Silak mused, a wry smile touching his lips. 'Something about God opening a window. But it definitely didn't sound as aggressive as this one. This world truly rewards the defiant.'
"Thank you, Father, Mother! Your guidance has cleared the path for me," Silak said, his voice ringing with genuine gratitude and renewed enthusiasm. The gloom left by the goddess Mayari's cryptic warnings had been completely swept away, replaced by the bright light of a new goal.
He stood up after finishing his meal, gathering his and his parents' plates to clear them. But before he could take a step, his father's voice stopped him. "Silak, sit for a moment longer. Your mother and I have something important to discuss with you."
The shift in tone was immediate. The warmth of their earlier lesson evaporated, replaced by a heavy solemnity. Iskra and Bayani exchanged a somber look, a silent agreement passing between them. They had decided last night that Silak was old enough and mature enough to know.
Bayani began, his voice low and serious. "In the coming days, I will be making a major announcement to the tribe. The Elders and I have made a difficult decision… we are going to migrate."
"The forests have grown dangerously unstable," his father explained, his brow furrowed with worry. "For reasons we do not yet understand, the balance has been broken. Elder Shardani, in her wisdom, suspects that a terrifyingly powerful demonic beast has claimed a new territory deep within the woods, creating a wave of chaos."
"This has caused the beasts and even other demonic beasts that normally reside in the deepest, most dangerous parts of the forest to be pushed outwards, towards our lands," Iskra added, her hand instinctively resting on Silak's arm. Her grip was tight, her knuckles white. "Please, Silak, you must be careful. Do not wander deep into the forest. We wanted to tell you this ahead of time because we know how you enjoy finding secluded spots to cultivate."
Silak's mind immediately flew to the tranquil, hidden cave. To its sole inhabitant. "What about Senior Gahumdagat?" he asked, his voice tight with concern. "Will he be coming with us?"
"Senior Gahumdagat's relationship with our tribe is one of mutual respect, not servitude," Bayani replied carefully. "It is a pact of favor, not a bond of ownership. As a prince of this tribe, it is time you understood this distinction."
Iskra clarified, "What your father means, my love, is that the choice will be entirely his. We cannot command him to follow us to our new home."
The answer landed like a stone in Silak's stomach. An uncontrollable sadness and cold dread crept up his spine.
His mind flashed back to the day years ago when opportunistic cultivators had descended on their village, mistaking him for some heaven-sent treasure. He remembered the chaos, the fear, and the earth-shaking roar of Gahumdagat as the colossal serpent emerged to defend them.
Without their guardian beast, his father might have fallen that day, along with the tribe's finest warriors. His parents might have been forced to sacrifice themselves to ensure his survival… again.
The thought was unbearable.
'I have to convince him,' Silak decided, his fists clenching under the table. The resolution was absolute, forged in fear and love. 'I cannot let our protector be left behind.' He was still young, still weak, but he could offer a promise. A promise of a future where he would be strong enough to repay the great beast's kindness.
All he needed was the one thing that felt both abundant and terrifyingly scarce: Time. Time to grow.