The new training regimen proved more challenging than Selene had anticipated. Stabilizing intangible energy onto a physical object and maintaining its form and properties demanded a level of control that was fiendishly precise.
On the training ground, several items were laid out before her: a feather, a cup of water, a short training staff, and a bow with a quiver of arrows. Lucian stood nearby, recording data and maintaining security, while Lysander observed from the sidelines, his gaze intense.
"Start with the simplest," Lysander's voice cut through the cool morning air. "Attempt to coat the feather's surface with your Pure Yin Energy. Extend its hover time, or alter its descent."
Selene centered herself, a wisp of ice-blue light gathering at her fingertip as she gently directed it toward the pristine white feather. The energy flowed like a thin stream, trying to envelop it. Yet, upon contact, it either pushed the feather away with excessive force or dissipated instantly from being too faint, failing to achieve any effective adhesion.
Failure, again and again. The feather either dropped inertly or was sent skittering by errant energy currents. Her mental strength depleted rapidly, a fine sweat beading at her temples. She could feel Lysander's gaze from the edge of the field—calm, yet weighted—allowing her no room for slackening.
"Stabilize the energy output. Focus your intent. Imagine your power as an invisible hand, cradling it gently, not striking it bluntly," Lysander's guidance came at the right moment, pinpointing her flaw.
Selene took a deep breath, shedding her frustration, and tried anew. She emptied her mind, releasing the urge to "control" and instead seeking to "feel"—to feel the feather's inherent lightness, to feel the cool flow of her own energy, attempting to find a harmonious resonance between the two.
Gradually, the ice-blue halo grew less volatile, spreading over the feather like liquid mercury. This time, the glow didn't instantly vanish. The feather's descent slowed noticeably, even pausing mid-air for a fleeting moment, tracing an unnatural, faintly glowing arc before settling gently to the ground.
Success! It lasted less than two seconds, but it was a qualitative leap!
A flicker of elation crossed Selene's eyes, and she instinctively looked toward Lysander.
His face remained impassive, but he gave an almost imperceptible nod. "Continue. Next, the water."
The difficulty escalated. Stabilizing energy within a liquid and attempting to alter its temperature or fluidity required even finer control. Selene threw herself back into the tedious, arduous attempts. The water cup sometimes developed a thin layer of frost, only to revert, unstable.
She spent the entire morning battling the feather and the water. The mental exertion far exceeded that of physical training. By the end, her face was pale, her temples throbbing, but her eyes were unusually bright. She had managed to suspend the feather for five seconds and kept the water below room temperature for ten minutes.
"This afternoon, practice with the staff. Attempt to channel energy into it, enhancing its hardness and resilience," Lysander commanded. "As for the bow…" He glanced at the古朴 recurve bow. "That's an application for after you've grasped energy channeling. Precise remote manipulation is far beyond your current reach."
His words dampened her budding sense of accomplishment, pulling her back to reality. The road was long.
The afternoon training was even more grueling. Coating and permeating dense wood with energy was far harder than with the feather or water. The energy either slid off the surface or ran amok inside, failing to provide effective reinforcement. Selene's arms grew sore from holding the position, her mental energy nearing depletion.
In one attempt, distracted by fatigue, the energy she'd channeled into the staff spiraled out of control. With a sharp crack, a fissure split the specially hardened wood!
The backlash numbed her wrist, sending her stumbling back several steps, her qi and blood churning within.
"That's enough for today," Lysander's voice held a note of finality. He had moved to the center of the field, his brow furrowing slightly at the cracked staff. "Insufficient control forced onto an object only harms the wielder. Remember this lesson."
Selene stared at the split wood, biting her lip, a mix of trepidation and stubborn refusal swirling within her.
"Rest. Meditate and recover. We continue tomorrow." With that, he signaled Lucian to clear the area and turned to leave.
"Wait." Selene's voice was hoarse from exhaustion.
Lysander stopped, looking back at her.
Her gaze traveled past him, settling on the bow and arrows not far away. A sudden impulse, a defiant stubbornness, rose within her. She wanted to know, to feel the exact measure of the gap between her and that higher goal.
"I want… to try the bow," she said, lifting her head, her clear eyes holding both plea and defiance. "Just once. I want to see the distance."
Lysander's dark eyes held hers, the air in the training ground seeming to solidify. Even Lucian paused, watching.
After a moment's silence, Lysander's thin lips parted. "Granted."
He walked over himself, picked up the bow, and presented it to Selene. "Draw it. Feel it. Then, try to channel the most stable strand of energy you can muster onto the arrow. Don't seek power. Just let it be 'tainted' with your essence."
Selene took the heavy recurve bow, her fingers tracing the cool wood. She nocked a blunt training arrow, using all her strength to pull the string back halfway. Her arm trembled violently from the earlier strain.
Closing her eyes, she fought to ignore her body's exhaustion, pouring her entire focus inward, summoning the dregs of her Pure Yin Energy. A faint, barely perceptible thread of ice-blue light, like a labored breath, traveled painstakingly down her arm, across the bow, and finally coiled around the arrow's tip.
The process was a struggle; she felt the energy on the arrow flickering, on the verge of extinction.
"Enough," Lysander's voice was low.
Selene opened her eyes and released the string.
Thwump!
The arrow flew, its speed sluggish, its trajectory unsteady. But as it left the bow, the faint blue glow at its tip traced a brief, distinct, pale blue streak in the air—like a fleeting meteor in the night sky!
Though the arrow landed weakly on the outer edge of the target a dozen meters away, nowhere near the bullseye, that transient, moonbeam-like trail made Lucian's eyes flicker with surprise.
Lysander's gaze followed the fading light, his eyes deepening like the night. He looked at Selene, pale and breathing heavily from the exertion, and spoke slowly.
"It seems you have more talent than I credited you with."
His tone was neutral, but the words themselves were the highest acknowledgment she could have hoped for.
A warmth spread in Selene's chest, the fatigue seeming to lessen.
Yet, in that moment of mental relaxation born from this affirmation, the cold, alien will of Mo Yuan struck again! This time, it was not a seductive whisper, but a sharpened psychic spike, aimed directly at her training-weakened core of consciousness!
"Agh—!"
Selene cried out, clutching her head as she collapsed to her knees. Excruciating pain blinded her, feeling as if her skull would split! The little energy she'd gathered for the shot shattered instantly. Her qi and blood reversed flow, a metallic taste filling her mouth as a trickle of blood escaped the corner of her lips.
"Selene!"
Lysander's face changed instantly. He was at her side in a flash, his potent Alpha power surging forth like a furious tide, enveloping her completely, forcibly suppressing the rampaging foreign will!
"Lucian! Fetch Dr. Lin!" he barked, scooping up her painfully蜷缩 form. Feeling her violent shivers and icy skin in his arms, a emotion he rarely showed—alarm—was now clearly reflected in his usually imperturbable eyes.
On the training ground, the brief glory of the condensed moonlight had vanished, replaced by deeper shadows and a suddenly descending crisis.