Yun Jin gently slipped his arms beneath Merlin’s back and knees, lifting him as though he weighed nothing at all.

  “You’re still too weak to walk,” he said.

  Merlin gave a sheepish nod. “Everything hurts,” he admitted. “Especially my head. It feels like it’s about to burst open.”

  “Then let me carry you.” Without waiting for protest, Yun Jin turned, stepped lightly to the windowsill, and leapt.

  The cool air rushed past them.

  Merlin gasped, instinctively clinging to Yun Jin as they soared through the air. But their landing was smooth. Yun Jin touched down with the grace of falling snow, the soles of his boots barely scuffing the ground.

  Merlin blinked in awe. “I saw it many times, but... Qi is simply so fascinating.”

  “It is,” Yun Jin replied, his eyes narrowing slightly. “But magic’s great too.” He knelt and set Merlin down, letting the boy lean against him for support as they walked slowly toward the garden.

  The garden was quiet. Wind rustled the leaves, the scent of dew still lingering on the stone paths. Yun Jin helped Merlin settle onto a smooth rock beneath a blossoming tree.

  “Start breathing,” he said gently.

  Merlin nodded, slipping into the rhythm Yun Jin had taught him before. Yun Jin guided the first few breaths with light pulses of Qi, stabilizing the flow.

  Currently, the mana inside Merlin's body isn’t stable yet. Even though his body has healed, it’s still raging within him.

  Elixir of life isn't that powerful after all...

  Slowly, Merlin’s chest rose and fell in harmony with the ambient energy.

  Qi and mana worked differently.

  Mana was drawn directly from the world—channeled into the magic circuit, pushed through the veins, and expelled outward to perform a task. It was external, responsive, shaped by intention and the quality of one’s circuits.

  Qi took a different path.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  It entered the veins first, then the body. Drawing it outward was difficult, but internally, it moved with far greater efficiency. Unlike mana, it didn’t rely on a separate structure—it flowed directly through the body. And that made it potent. But not perfect.

  Qi demanded precision.

  A miscast spell often resulted in nothing. A mischanneled flow of Qi always did something. Torn muscles. Shattered bones. Internal bleeding. There was no forgiveness—only consequence.

  That was why no one learned Qi control alone. A mistake didn’t lead to failure.

  It led to death.

  “In and out,” Yun Jin whispered, his voice calm and even.

  Ten minutes passed. Merlin’s breathing deepened, his flow no longer jerky or uneven. Yun Jin felt the shift instantly—Merlin’s body was syncing with the Qi around them.

  He slowly removed his guiding hand and sat back.

  And they call me a genius...

  Yun Jin watched in silence, equal parts awe and unease curling in his chest. He had been called a monster by peers, a prodigy unmatched in any sect. But this boy—Merlin—was born to harness energy. It was more than talent. It was instinct.

  Bit by bit, the swirling storm inside Merlin began to settle.

  The elixir Yun Jin had given him before had mended wounds and stabilized his body, but the chaotic mana within him had remained a time bomb. Now, by converting and dispersing that rampant force into Qi, Merlin subdued it.

  And that wasn’t all.

  “I… why did my mana reserve grow so much?” Merlin’s eyes widened. “It’s at least twenty percent larger than before.”

  Yun Jin blinked. “That’s... new.”

  “I’ve never seen growth like this,” Merlin said breathlessly. “With my condition, it shouldn’t even be possible.”

  His body was a Divine Death Star—a rare phenomenon capable of drawing endless energy from nature. But his flaw had always been the same: his reserves weren’t infinite. Every spell cost him threefold. Every misstep brought him closer to combustion.

  But now... if his reserves kept growing...

  “At this rate, I could turn the curse into a blessing.”

  Yun Jin smiled faintly.

  “I truly can’t thank you enough,” Merlin said quietly.

  “Heh. Don’t mention it. We can start on martial technique next, if you’re up for it.”

  “Martial technique?” Merlin tilted his head.

  “Remember how I taught the villagers to swing a sword? How I slowed my fall? All of that is martial technique. With Qi, you can learn to harden your skin, hold your breath for days, even walk on air.”

  Yun Jin took a step forward and focused.

  He bent his knees, channeling Qi into his soles—then launched upward. A pulse of force burst from beneath his feet, suspending him in the air for a moment before he landed again.

  “That’s called an Air Step,” he said. “My master can do it three times. I can only manage one.”

  He turned to Merlin, eyes narrowing.

  “But you… with your level of control? You might even surpass me on that department.”