The air before him shimmered.
System:
Incorrect assumption detected.
Amitesh clicked his tongue.
Amitesh:
"Then correct me."
A pause followed—just long enough to feel deliberate.
System:
Cultivation realms indicate potential, not absolute combat power.
Your current state:
Body Tempering — Initial Stage.
Zoey's state:
Blood Tempering — Peak.
Amitesh's eyes widened.
"Then how—"
System:
Because strength is not a single variable
Lines of pale blue text unfolded one after another, steady and merciless.
System Explanation:
Combat power is determined by five core factors.
Body Conditioning — muscle density, bone strength, recovery speed.
Her muscles, bones, and nervous system were strengthened through prolonged exposure to combat stress.
This grants her raw physical power comparable to advanced tempering stages.
Cultivation strength depends on multiple dimensions:
1.Realm / Energy Control — efficiency, circulation, stability.
2.Combat Experience — survival instinct, reaction speed.
3.Ki Control / Technique Mastery — how power is applied.
4.Body Compatibility / Mental State — fear tolerance, decision-making under pressure.
System:
You exceed Zoey only in energy potential.
In all other categories, you are inferior.
Amitesh clenched his jaw.
Then his fists.
Amitesh:
"So you're saying the realm doesn't matter?"
System:
The realm matters.
But the depth of the realm matters more.
Body Tempering — Mid to Late Stage is where true divergence begins.
Amitesh swallowed.
System:
However—
The word lingered, heavy.
System:
Her strength is static.
Yours is scalable.
Warmth stirred in his core, responding instinctively.
System:
You have opened your first meridian.
Your Ki circulation is unstable.
Your foundation is incomplete.
System:
At this stage:
You possess Ki.
She possesses mastery.
Amitesh lowered his head, breathing slowly, evenly.
System:
If you fight Zoey now—
You will lose.
A faint smirk tugged at his lips.
Amitesh:
"And later?"
Silence.
Then—
System:
If you survive the tempering process—
She will never catch up.
The air went still.
Amitesh clenched his fist again.
No ripple this time.
Only control.
So I'm not weak…
I'm unfinished.
He stood and headed toward the building.
Inside his room, he washed his face, changed his clothes, and tightened the strap of his black watch. He glanced outside. The afternoon sun still burned brightly.
3:23 PM.
Amitesh smirked.
"Hmm… there's still plenty of time," he muttered.
"Alright then—let's show them my farming skills and make them do labour for free."
He grabbed a towel, slung it over his shoulder like a seasoned farmer, and walked downstairs.
The open ground near the broken shed was already lively.
Rohan poked the soil with a stick, as if it had personally offended him.
Riya sat on a rock, legs swinging, watching ants with intense concentration.
Priya leaned against a wall, arms crossed, boredom written clearly on her face.
Diya stood beside her—quiet, observant, her eyes tracking everything without a word.
Amitesh clapped his hands loudly.
"Alright, workers! Training starts now."
Rohan's eyes lit up.
"Training? Like… real farming?"
"Real labour," Amitesh corrected. "No salary. Only experience."
Riya giggled.
"That's unfair!"
"Life is unfair," Amitesh said solemnly, picking up a rusted hoe.
"Step one: don't hit your own foot. Farming ends very quickly if you do."
Priya snorted.
"Great. We're doomed."
Diya tilted her head slightly, watching him with quiet focus.
They began clearing weeds. Amitesh demonstrated exaggeratedly, swinging the hoe like he was following an ancient cultivation manual.
Rohan copied him with excessive enthusiasm.
Riya tried but kept getting distracted.
Priya worked efficiently, silent and steady.
Diya moved less, but when she did, her movements were precise and
deliberate.
Amitesh noticed.
He wiped sweat from his brow, eyes narrowing slightly.
He walked over to where Gauri and Priyanka stood watching.
"Hey," he said casually, "I've been meaning to ask… why are the twins always so quiet?"
"Because Diya can't speak."
Amitesh turned.
Gauri stood there, arms folded, observing the children like an ongoing experiment.
He blinked.
"…Can't speak?"
Gauri nodded.
"She's mute. Since childhood."
Amitesh's expression softened—not shock, not pity. Just understanding.
He looked back at Diya.
She wasn't watching him. Her fingers brushed dirt from the soil carefully, like someone long accustomed to working with her hands.
"Oh," he said quietly.
"That explains a lot."
Riya looked up anxiously.
"Big brother… you're not angry, right?"
He smiled and shook his head.
"Why would I be?"
He stepped closer and tapped the ground lightly near Diya's feet.
"Words are overrated anyway," he said.
"Skill matters more."
Diya paused.
She looked up at him.
For the first time, a faint, almost imperceptible smile appeared.
Gauri watched from the side, eyes narrowing.
"…Interesting," she murmured.
Soon, the sun began to set.
Amitesh picked up an iron bucket and grinned.
"Alright, gang," he said.
"Time to milk the cows—just like I promised."
They walked toward the fenced area.
Inside were three cows and two calves.
The calves ran about restlessly, kicking up dust as the evening light stretched long shadows across the ground.
The day wasn't over yet.
The calves skidded to a halt the moment they noticed the group, then bolted in opposite directions like they were under attack.
"Hey—!" Riya laughed, pointing.
"They're fast!"
"Fast, yes," Amitesh said, rolling up his sleeves, "but not smarter than humans."
"That sounds suspiciously like overconfidence," Priya muttered.
Amitesh stepped into the fenced area, iron bucket swinging lightly from his hand. The cows barely reacted,
chewing lazily, eyes half-lidded as if the world had already failed to surprise them.
Rohan crouched beside the fence, eyes wide.
"Big brother, have you actually done this before?"
Amitesh paused for half a second.
"…Enough times to not die," he replied.
That answer did nothing to reassure anyone.
Gauri leaned against the fence, arms crossed. Priyanka stood beside her, clearly enjoying the scene a little too much.
"Pick the calm one," Gauri said flatly.
"And don't stand directly behind it unless you want a free lesson in regret."
"Helpful," Amitesh nodded.
He approached one of the cows slowly, movements relaxed, breath steady. The warmth in his core stirred faintly—not Ki circulation, not cultivation—just instinct.
The kind that came from learning when to force and when to yield.
Diya watched closely.
Her eyes followed his hands. His posture. The way he shifted his weight.
Amitesh placed the bucket down and crouched, testing the cow's patience first. The animal flicked its tail but didn't move.
"See?" he said quietly. "Negotiation successful."
Riya giggled.
"She didn't even say yes!"
"Silence is consent," Priya
deadpanned.
Gauri shot her a look.
"Not funny."
Priya cleared her throat.
"…Right. Sorry."
Amitesh worked carefully. The first few pulls were awkward—too hesitant, too stiff—but then rhythm took over. The sound of milk hitting metal echoed softly in the fading light.
Rohan stared like he was witnessing forbidden knowledge.
"That's… actually cool."
"Of course it is," Amitesh said.
"Civilization started because someone figured out how to steal milk without dying."
The bucket slowly filled.
The calves circled restlessly, one of them nudging Amitesh's shoulder with its nose. He steadied it with a gentle push.
"Patience," he murmured. "You'll get your share."
Diya stepped closer without a word.
She crouched near him, eyes sharp, absorbing every detail. When one calf nearly tipped the bucket, she reacted instantly—steadying it with one hand before the milk could spill.
Amitesh glanced at her, surprised.
"Nice save."
She didn't reply. Just nodded once.
But the corner of her lips lifted again, barely there.
By the time they finished, the sky had shifted to deep orange and violet. The bucket was heavy. The cows looked satisfied. The calves finally calmed, huddling close.
Amitesh stood and stretched his back.
"Alright," he announced. "Mission complete."
Riya clapped.
"We did it!"
"You watched," Priya corrected.
"That counts!"
Gauri pushed herself off the fence and walked over, glancing into the bucket.
"Not bad," she said. "For someone who treats farming like a joke."
Amitesh smirked.
"Everything's easier when you don't overthink it."
Her eyes lingered on him for a moment longer than necessary.
Scalable, she thought.
The System's words echoed faintly in her mind, though she said nothing.
As they walked back with the bucket between them, the compound felt… different. Quieter. Fuller.
Amitesh looked at the kids ahead of him—dusty, tired, laughing.
Unfinished, he reminded himself.
But foundations weren't built all at once.
They were laid slowly—
with sweat,
with patience,
and sometimes…
with borrowed sunlight at the end of the day.
The moment they stepped back into the courtyard, the smell of warm milk cutting through dust and sweat—
"Wow," a familiar voice drawled.
"I leave for a few hours and you start a dairy business?"
Amitesh froze.
Slow.
Measured.
Annoyed.
Zoey leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, eyes sweeping over the iron bucket, the dirt-streaked kids, and finally settling on him.
Her gaze sharpened.
"…You look tired."
Rohan stiffened.
"That's because we worked hard!"
Zoey glanced at him.
"Good. Builds character."
Riya immediately hid behind Priya.
Amitesh sighed.
"Don't scare them."
"I'm not scary," Zoey said flatly.
"I'm educational."
She walked closer, peered into the bucket, then at Amitesh's hands.
Calloused.
Red.
Slight tremor he thought no one noticed.
Zoey noticed.
"You used force," she said. "Poorly."
"Hey—"
"And posture like you're apologizing to the cow," she continued. "Pathetic."
Priya blinked.
"…She's mean."
"Yes," Zoey agreed. "And correct."
Amitesh clicked his tongue.
"You always show up just to insult me?"
"No," she said. "Sometimes I show up to confirm you're still alive."
She turned to the kids.
"You. Cups."
Riya gasped.
"You're giving us milk?"
Zoey rolled her eyes.
"You didn't milk the cow for decoration, did you?"
Within moments, metal cups appeared—slightly dented, mismatched, but clean enough.
Amitesh poured carefully. Steam rose as the warm milk filled each cup.
Rohan took a sip.
His eyes widened.
"…This is amazing."
Riya drank too fast and immediately burned her tongue.
"Hot—hot—hot!"
Priya laughed.
"Idiot."
Diya held her cup with both hands, blowing softly before tasting it. Her eyes softened. She didn't smile—but her shoulders relaxed, tension melting away.
Zoey watched that.
Then looked back at Amitesh.
"You fed them first," she said. "Good."
Amitesh raised an eyebrow.
"That sounded almost like praise."
"Don't get used to it."
She stepped closer, voice dropping.
"But don't misunderstand."
Her eyes sharpened, sharp as broken glass.
"Manual labor after unstable Ki circulation is stupid."
Amitesh stiffened.
"You felt it, didn't you?" she continued.
"The drag. The heat behind your ribs."
"…Yeah."
"You're leaking strength," Zoey said.
"Not enough to kill you. Enough to slow you."
She tapped his chest lightly with two fingers.
"Next time you collapse, I won't carry you."
"I never asked you to."
"You did," she said calmly. "By surviving."
The kids laughed nearby, milk mustaches forming, warmth spreading through tired bodies. For a moment, the world felt… normal.
Zoey looked at them again.
"…They'll sleep well tonight," she admitted.
Amitesh followed her gaze.
"Yeah."
She turned to leave, then paused.
"Oh—and Amitesh?"
He looked at her.
"If you ever say 'free labor' again," she said coldly,
"I'll make you plow the field."
A beat.
Then she added, almost casually—
"With gravity increased."
Rohan choked on milk.
Riya burst into laughter.
Priya stared in horror.
Amitesh groaned.
"…You're the worst."
Zoey smirked as she walked away.
"Get stronger," she said over her shoulder"
"Or get useful."
The sun slipped below the horizon.
The kids drank their milk.
The night crept in.
And somewhere deep inside Amitesh's core—
Something unfinished tightened its grip,
not in fear-
but anticipation.
As night settled in, Amitesh sat alone in his room, legs crossed, spine straight, eyes gently closed.
He reached outward with his senses, drawing in the ki from his surroundings. The air felt heavier, denser, as if responding to his call. With each slow breath, the energy seeped into him, warm and alive. His body grew lighter—so light it almost felt unreal, as though gravity itself had loosened its grip.
Instinctively, he placed a hand over his chest.
He could feel his heartbeat—steady, familiar.
But beneath it… there was something else.
A second rhythm.
Fainter, yet unmistakable.
Before he could focus on it—
"Amitesh."
He opened his eyes.
"Huh?" He turned his head. "Gauri? I thought you were sleeping. What time is it?"
He picked up his black wristwatch from the table and glanced at it.
"2:30 a.m."
"I know," Gauri said casually. "I just don't feel like sleeping. Want to go for a walk for a while?"
Amitesh hesitated, then sighed. "Okay, fine."
They stepped out together, walking along the empty road. The world was quiet—no vehicles, no voices—just the faint hum of distant insects and the soft echo of their footsteps.
Gauri pulled out a cigarette and lit it.
She paused, taking a slow, deliberate drag, holding the smoke in before exhaling lazily into the night air.
"So," she asked, "how are you feeling now?"
"Much better," Amitesh replied.
"Good."
He glanced at her. "So… any plans for the future?"
Gauri took another puff, eyes fixed ahead.
"Well," she said, "good question."
Amitesh groaned internally.
Not this again.
Every time she can't answer something, she says 'good question'.
"Well then," he said aloud, forcing a grin, "want to sleep on the road?"
She stopped walking and stared at him.
"What? No. Why would I do that?"
"Hehe," Amitesh laughed. "I once had a dream of sleeping on the road. Looks like it already came true."
"Then sleep," Gauri said flatly. "I'll step on your body."
He shook his head. "Dream already fulfilled. No need to repeat it."
The quiet road swallowed their laughter as they continued walking under the indifferent night sky.
The cold night breeze brushed past them as they walked in silence for a while. The empty road stretched endlessly ahead, streetlights flickering like tired stars.
Gauri exhaled slowly, smoke mixing with the night air.
Gauri:- you joke a lot, but you're different lately.
Amitesh glanced at her.
Amitesh:- different how?
Gauri:- quieter. Like you're listening to something no one else can hear.
He didn't answer immediately. His fingers curled slightly; the faint rhythm inside his chest pulsed again.
Thump… thump.
Then—
thump.
Amitesh:- when I meditate… it feels like something inside me is waking up. Not painful. Just… strange.
Gauri stopped walking.
Gauri:- strange is normal in this world now.
She looked at him sideways.
Gauri:- but don't push yourself too hard.
Amitesh:- sounds like advice.
Gauri:- wow, you noticed.
She smirked.
They started walking again. Somewhere far away, a owl speak, breaking the silence.
Amitesh:- hey Gauri…
He hesitated.
Amitesh:- if everything goes bad… what will you do?
Gauri took a longer puff this time, then crushed the cigarette under her shoe.
Gauri:- survive first. Think later.
Amitesh:- figures.
For a moment, the road felt heavier, like the air itself was pressing down.
Amitesh suddenly stopped. His breath grew slow, steady—just like during cultivation.
Gauri:- don't tell me you're meditating while walking now.
Amitesh:- just checking something.
He closed his eyes for a second. The ki around them stirred faintly, responding.
That second heartbeat echoed again—clearer this time.
Amitesh opened his eyes.
Amitesh:- yeah… it's still there.
And i think i can meditate while walking.
Gauri:- then accept it.
She placed a hand lightly on his shoulder.
Gauri:- whatever it is, it chose you.
Amitesh looked at the empty road ahead. For the first time, he didn't feel lost.
Amitesh:- then I guess… I should become strong enough to deserve it.
Gauri smiled softly.
Gauri:- now that wasn't a bad answer.
They walked on, two shadows under broken streetlights, while something unseen inside Amitesh continued to beat—steady, patient, waiting.