The sky outside was still dark.
A pale gray light seeped through the paper windows as dawn approached, carrying with it the quiet calm that existed only before the world woke. Kenji Watanabe sat on the edge of his bed, fully dressed, his school bag resting neatly beside him.
He wasn't rushing today.
His breathing was slow and even, his posture straight. Since breaking through to Body Refining Level 5, something inside him had changed. His body felt grounded, stable—no longer drifting aimlessly without direction.
Yet his mind…
I know how to move forward, Kenji thought. But I don't know how far the road goes.
The door slid open softly.
His grandfather stepped inside.
The old man's back was slightly bent, his hair completely white, but his eyes were sharp and clear, like a deep, still lake. He wore simple clothes, nothing that hinted at power or prestige.
"You're awake early," his grandfather said calmly.
Kenji stood immediately. "Good morning, Grandpa."
His grandfather nodded, then sat down on the cushion near the low table. "You seem restless."
Kenji hesitated for a moment, then sat across from him.
"…Grandpa," Kenji said slowly, "can I ask you something important?"
The old man poured two cups of warm tea, steam curling into the air. "If it's important to you, then it's worth asking."
Kenji accepted the cup with both hands.
"I want to know," he said, voice steady, "how far martial arts really go."
His grandfather's hand paused mid-pour.
"How far?" he repeated.
"Yes," Kenji continued. "I've been training. I reached Body Refining Level 5. I understand the effort, the pain, the discipline. But… what comes after? What's the end?"
His grandfather looked at him for a long moment.
Then he smiled faintly.
"So you've finally reached the stage where strength alone is no longer enough.
His grandfather set the teapot down.
"Martial cultivation," he began, "is not merely about power. It is about understanding one's self, then the world, and eventually… the heavens."
Kenji leaned forward slightly.
"The first realm all cultivators step into," his grandfather said, "is called the Entry Heart Realm."
Kenji's eyes widened slightly. "Entry Heart…?"
"Yes," the old man nodded. "Because at this stage, cultivation begins with the heart—the will, the endurance, the discipline to continue when nothing responds."
Kenji felt those words strike deep.
"The Entry Heart Realm is what your generation commonly calls Body Refining," his grandfather continued. "It is divided into nine layers."
"Each layer strengthens a different aspect of the body," his grandfather explained.
Layer 1–3: Tempering muscles and bones
Layer 4–6: Harmonizing tendons, joints, and internal organs
Layer 7–9: Perfecting bodily unity and preparing the vessel for soul resonance
"At the ninth layer," he said, "the body becomes a complete vessel—capable of housing power beyond flesh."
Kenji clenched his fists slightly.
"So Level 5…" he murmured.
"Is the middle," his grandfather said. "Where most give up."
Kenji nodded silently.
After a short pause, his grandfather continued.
"Once the body is complete, a cultivator steps into the Entry Soul Realm."
Kenji's breath caught.
"This is where true martial paths diverge," the old man said. "At this stage, one begins to interact with Life Spirits, War Spirits, and soul manifestations."
Kenji thought of the Family Gates. The Life Spirit trials. The stories Riku had told him.
"The Entry Soul Realm," his grandfather said, "is also divided into nine layers, but unlike Body Refining, progress here depends on comprehension rather than effort alone."
He lifted one finger.
"A fool with talent may rise quickly and fall just as fast."
A second finger.
"A patient cultivator may take years… but become unshakable."
Kenji swallowed.
"This is where many families build their foundations," his grandfather continued. "Most sect elders, city guardians, and powerful instructors remain within this realm for life."
Kenji's eyes widened. "For life?"
"Yes," his grandfather said calmly. "Because the soul is harder to temper than the body.
Silence filled the room for a moment.
Then his grandfather spoke again, voice lower.
"Above the soul… lies the divine."
Kenji's heart thumped.
"The Entry Divine Realm," his grandfather said, "is where cultivators begin to touch the laws of heaven and earth."
He looked directly at Kenji.
"This realm separates mortals from legends."
Kenji felt goosebumps rise on his arms.
"Those who reach Entry Divine," the old man continued, "can command elemental forces, bend space slightly, and imprint their will upon reality."
"Are there… many?" Kenji asked quietly.
His grandfather shook his head.
"Even in prosperous regions, Entry Divine cultivators are rare. They are city-destroyers. Nation-shakers."
Kenji inhaled slowly.
His grandfather's gaze drifted toward the window, as if looking far beyond the house, beyond the city, beyond the world itself.
"Beyond Entry Divine," he said, "lies the Core of Divinity."
Kenji listened without blinking.
"The first step," his grandfather said, "is the Demi-God Realm."
"Here, the divine core is formed. The cultivator no longer relies solely on their body or soul—they generate divine power naturally."
Kenji's mind raced.
"After Demi-God," the old man continued, "comes true godhood."
Lower God
Middle God
Upper God
"At these stages," his grandfather said, "a cultivator's name carries weight. Entire regions may kneel or flee upon hearing it."
Kenji felt his throat dry.
"And then," his grandfather said softly, "come those who sit above gods."
Kenji leaned in unconsciously.
"A Divine King commands domains. Their will shapes battlefields. Gods obey."
"A Divine Emperor," the old man said, "rules laws. Not people—laws."
Kenji's hands trembled slightly.
"For most," his grandfather said, "this is where stories end."
"But for those who defy heaven…"
His eyes sharpened.
"A God Venerable transcends emperors. Their existence is worshipped across realms."
"And above that," his grandfather said quietly, "stands the God Ancestor."
Kenji barely breathed.
"God Ancestors," the old man continued, "are beings whose existence predates eras. Their bloodlines shape civilizations. Their fall reshapes history."
Kenji sat frozen.
After a long silence, Kenji finally spoke.
"…Grandpa," he asked softly, "have you… seen these realms?"
His grandfather smiled gently.
"I've seen enough," he said. "More than I ever wanted to."
Kenji looked at him sharply.
"But listen to me carefully," his grandfather said, voice firm now. "Knowing the path does not mean walking it blindly."
He placed a hand over Kenji's chest.
"Your foundation matters more than your destination."
Kenji nodded slowly.
"I understand."
His grandfather stood up, stretching slightly.
"Good," he said. "Now go to school. The road is long—but it always begins with today."
Kenji bowed deeply.
"Yes, Grandpa.
As Kenji stepped outside, the sun finally crested the horizon.
The path ahead was clearer now.
Not easier.
But clearer.