Jason woke to the thin light of morning and the immediate, all-over protest of his body. Every bruise from the previous day's fight lit up at once. His robe, already worn thin, now hung in actual tatters—torn at the shoulder, stained dark at the collar, one sleeve half-ripped. He tried to push himself upright and a low groan escaped before he could stop it.
The tent flap stirred. Clara stepped inside carrying a small wooden bowl that steamed faintly. The sharp, bitter scent of medicinal herbs filled the small space.
"So you've finally decided to wake up," she said.
"Good morning, Mother." Jason made another attempt to rise and offer a proper greeting.
"Stay where you are." She crossed the floor and held the bowl out. "Drink all of it."
He took the bowl. The first sip was even worse than the smell—thick, astringent, coating his tongue with a taste like boiled tree bark and iron. His face twisted, but he kept drinking. Clara had prepared it; refusing was not an option. When the last drop was gone he handed the empty bowl back and wiped his mouth with the back of a scraped hand.
Clara set the bowl aside and fixed him with a steady look. "Now tell me the truth. Why do you always end up in a fight whenever I send you to the market?"
Jason met her eyes for a moment, then glanced away. "I try to avoid them. They just keep finding me. They won't let it go no matter what I say."
Clara's voice hardened. "I am the one who gave birth to you. Do not lie to my face."
A short, sheepish laugh escaped him. "All right. I wanted to test how much I've improved. That's why I didn't bother running this time."
"You chose to test yourself against Andrew Fox," she said, each word precise, "and this is the result." She gestured at the bruises, the swollen eye, the torn robe. "The tournament is one week away. Instead of preparing, you went looking for a beating."
"He's not in perfect shape either," Jason muttered.
"That is not the point." Clara's frown deepened. "How do you plan to train in the state you're in?"
Jason managed a small smile. "You don't need to worry about that. I have my ways."
Clara studied him for a long moment, then simply shook her head, turned, and left the tent. The moment the flap fell shut, Jason's careful expression relaxed into something closer to satisfaction. He settled back against the thin pillow and spoke inwardly.
*Hey. How was my performance yesterday?*
*Better than the last time,* the bracelet answered at once. *You stopped standing there taking whatever they gave you. You forced them to take you seriously. I expect they will think twice before treating you like free entertainment again.*
Jason closed his good eye, the swollen one already refusing to open fully. *Maybe this is enough to win the tournament.*
*We cannot assume that. You will continue training.*
*I never planned to stop.*
*Good. Before we return to the leg and fist techniques, you will begin Heaven's Law.*
Jason's brow furrowed. *I still don't know how to cultivate it.*
*That is why I am here. First, try to sense the energy that moves through the earth itself. Then draw it in.*
He shifted into a proper cross-legged posture despite the protest of bruised ribs and began. Eyes closed, attention turned downward, he searched for whatever current or breath might live inside the soil beneath the tent. Minutes stretched. He felt nothing that answered the description of "earth energy." Still he kept searching, refusing to ask for further hints.
Unnoticed by him, the thin ambient spiritual energy inside the tent had begun to drift toward his body. It entered his pores in the slowest of trickles, so faint he would have missed it entirely if he had been paying attention to anything above the ground.
He continued the fruitless search for earth energy. Then, without warning, his entire body gave a hard internal shudder. Jason's eyes snapped open, heart slamming, certain that Andrew and his remaining followers had come for revenge. The tent was empty. The moment his concentration broke, the subtle inflow of ambient energy ceased.
He sat very still, breathing carefully, then began to examine himself. The first thing he noticed was the skin on his forearms and the backs of his hands. It felt denser, tougher, as though a new layer of quiet resilience had settled just beneath the surface.
His eyes widened.
"Did I just break through to the fifth layer of the tempered body?" he whispered.
*Yes,* the bracelet said. *You can wipe the shocked look off your face.*
Jason stared at his hands. *But I never found the earth energy. How is a breakthrough possible?*
*The moment you began circulating Heaven's Law, every strand of free spiritual energy within your immediate range was drawn toward you. What you experienced was only the passive effect. If you had actually located and absorbed true earth energy, the gains would have been significantly greater.*
*So it's like a suction force?*
*Exactly. In a place dense with spiritual energy the difference would be dramatic.*
Jason flexed his fingers, feeling the new hardness in the skin and the deeper stability in the muscle beneath. *As long as I can keep cultivating it here, I'm satisfied. But I searched the entire time and never felt even a trace of earth energy. Why?*
*I will not answer that.*
*You said you would help in every way you can.*
*And I am,* the bracelet replied, firm. *If I simply hand you the answer, I hinder the very comprehension the method requires. Figure it out yourself.*
Jason sat in the quiet tent, the bitter aftertaste of medicine still on his tongue, the new fifth-layer strength settling into his bones, and the unanswered question of earth energy turning slowly in his mind. One week remained. He would not waste it.