The Near-Disaster

Chapter 5: The Near-Disaster

Ren’s secret training continued for weeks, each day a slow, grueling test of his patience. He would spend hours in the Grand Library, poring over scrolls and observing cultivators in the courtyard, silently copying their moves and techniques. The process was agonizingly slow. While a cultivator with a natural bloodline could master a technique in a week, Ren would spend a month just to gain a rudimentary grasp of a single skill. His copied abilities were weak, clumsy imitations, and to anyone who looked, he was still the same talentless boy, forever stuck in the **Initial Foundation** stage.

One afternoon, Ren was observing a group of young cultivators practicing a complex movement technique. They were already in the **Middle Foundation** stage, and their movements were fluid and graceful. It was a series of steps designed for speed and evasion. He watched, his mind completely focused, his Phaseless Bloodline silently absorbing the movements. He felt a light, airy sensation in his legs, as if he could float on the wind.

He was so engrossed in his observation that he didn't notice his cousin Lei and a few of his friends walking toward him. Lei stopped in front of Ren, a sneer on his face.

“Still here, phaseless?” Lei taunted. “Hiding behind a rock, watching those with real talent? Do you think you can absorb our power through osmosis?”

The other boys laughed. One of them, a boy with the Iron Skin Bloodline, stepped forward, his body visibly hardening. “Why don’t we teach him a lesson about what real power feels like?”

Ren felt a surge of panic. He didn't want a fight. He had no power to defend himself with. But he had been practicing. He had absorbed a defensive technique from a much stronger cultivator just a few days ago, a subtle shield of qi that could deflect blows. The skill was still incredibly weak, but it was his only hope.

“Don’t waste your time on him,” Lei said, dismissing the boy. “He’s not worth it. I have a demonstration to prepare for the elders. My new technique, the Raging Inferno Palm.”

Lei turned and faced a training dummy, his hand beginning to glow with a fierce, red light. He was about to unleash his new, powerful technique on the dummy. Ren, seeing a chance to observe a high-level skill up close, focused his entire mind on Lei’s palm. He didn't just feel the qi flow; he felt the very essence of the fire, its destructive power, its burning heat. He was so absorbed that he didn't notice the faint, black wisps of energy that began to emanate from his own hand, a manifestation of his Phaseless Bloodline working overtime.

The energy, a subtle echo of the power he was absorbing, was too much for his still-unrefined bloodline. It began to get out of control, not in a powerful way, but in a chaotic, unstable way. The air around Ren became heavy and distorted. The ground near his feet began to crack slightly, not from a direct attack, but from the uncontrolled energy trying to manifest a power it could not contain.

Just as Lei was about to unleash his technique, a flicker of light from Ren’s hand shot forward and struck the ground near Lei’s feet. It was a tiny, uncontrolled burst of energy, a mere fraction of what Lei was about to release. But it was enough to disrupt the flow of Lei’s qi.

Lei gasped as his fireball sputtered and died. The fiery dragon he had been forming vanished. He stumbled back, staring at his palm in utter confusion. The elders on the observation platform looked down, their faces a mixture of surprise and concern.

“What was that?” Lei demanded, staring at Ren. “What did you do?”

Ren’s heart was in his throat. He had no idea what had happened. He had just been observing. His mind raced. He had to hide it.

“Nothing,” Ren stammered, his voice laced with fear. “I- I didn’t do anything.”

Lei’s friends stared at the small crack in the ground near their friend's feet, then at Ren. The boy with the Iron Skin Bloodline pointed a trembling finger at Ren. “He… he was doing something! I saw it! He… he’s got a strange kind of qi.”

The elders began to descend from the platform. Lei’s face was a mask of furious confusion. He hadn’t felt a direct attack, but his technique had been ruined by something. Ren knew that if the elders found out what he had done, he would be punished, perhaps exiled, for meddling with an unknown and dangerous power. He had to be smarter. His Phaseless Bloodline was not just a tool; it was a curse that could betray him at any moment. He was no longer just a failure; he was a potential threat, and he had to learn to control his power before it got him killed.

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