"Nothing is real… until you believe it to be."
Zen said nothing. He simply stood in the shadows of the small wooden room, his eyes fixed on the young man sitting on the cold floor, his spirit seemingly drifted far away.
Then, a voice arose in Xu Yianzi's mind. Not the voice of the people around him, but a voice from the other side of the dream.
"In my world… there are things that even the most brilliant researchers still don't understand."
The voice was soft… yet firm, as if narrating a story from beyond the reach of light.
"It isn't magic. It isn't science. It isn't technology. It is a strange 'script,' discovered on certain artifacts—sometimes on walls, sometimes on weapons, or even on someone's skin."
"They… they interpreted it from its flowing lines, from its shape, from the pressure of the engraving… and from the feeling in the writer's heart."
Zen paused, letting the silence allow his words to sink into the young man's soul.
"In the end, it became a language that no one truly knew, yet everyone felt it had meaning."
"I, too, have learned from it… though I don't understand it all."
"But one thing I know for sure… it responds to 'a certain kind of energy.' And I believe in the power of the will. I believe that if the 'mind is firm enough,' we can use that 'psychic power,' that will… to create the 'reality' we believe in."
Zen slowly extended a hand, as if offering something. Though his hand was empty, an image flashed in Xu Yianzi's mind.
"This is what I learned on my own… what I have achieved."
In his mind's eye, Xu Yianzi saw it—a strange character he had never seen before. It was Ƨ—an alphabet that resembled an S, but reversed, as if a reflection from within.
"I call it Solen," the voice continued. "'Sol' from Soul. 'Len' from Lens, or to see. When we can see the soul… we can change anything."
Xu Yianzi didn't answer. He didn't understand it all, but he "felt" something stir in his chest, as if a numb spirit was about to be awakened.
"This world already has Yuan Stones, the energy for cultivating martial power… right?" the voice asked. "What if we used them as a… power source?"
Zen paused, before speaking the words that would ignite the boy's small universe.
"Since… you have nothing left to lose." "Then try using only your 'heart.'" "Not just training like ordinary people." "But placing all your faith… on a single line… written with belief."
The next morning, soft sunlight streamed quietly through the wooden window. But the atmosphere in Xu Yianzi's room was filled with strange symbols.
On the floor, on the walls, on the wooden table—every square inch was covered with characters no one would understand.
He had gathered all the Yuan Stones he possessed for this experiment. He had no martial power, no ability to channel energy in any way.
There was only one thing he could do.
Stare.
He stared at the runes he drew. Stared at the stones he placed. Stared at the shapes of a hope he could not explain.
He started with ᚠ (Fehu), ᚢ (Uruz), ᚦ (Thurisaz), and ᚨ (Ansuz), as well as the Ƨ – Solen he drew from the image in his head. He drew them over and over, again and again.
"How the hell… do I use my 'heart'…?"
He mumbled like a madman, but he sat there, staring and drawing, not moving from that spot for a week… and then a month.
Some began to look at him with pity. Some began to call him "the mad one." Some laughed as they passed his room, or whispered that he had been possessed by a demon.
"Pathetic…" "If you have no martial power, don't go looking for shortcuts…" "Such a pity. The clan leader… has a deranged son who sits around drawing on rocks."
Those voices whispered in his ear every day, but Xu Yianzi didn't even hear them. Because in his heart… he felt that "the quieter he became, the more he stared, the more he understood."
"If the world will not teach me how to walk…then I will create my own path…line by line—with my own will."