Chapter 29
Elijah woke to the familiar glow of the system screen hovering above his bed.
The room was dark, the curtains drawn, the only light coming from the pale blue letters that spelled out his tasks for the day.
He blinked at the time in the corner.
2:00 AM.
He groaned, but the sound died in his throat as the tasks scrolled into view.
[Day 10 of your Tasks, Little King]
Meditate on the Gathering part of Eternal Grounded Tree
Use the system to create a Workout Vest, Breathing mask, and small super heavy weights for your legs and arms (I already have something in mind)
Go for a run wearing them
Go for a workout wearing them
Bath
Clean teeth
Get a haircut
Ask Kai to send money to your card so you can buy new clothes
Buy condoms
Meet Lisa
Elijah stared at the list. His eye twitched.
He let out a long, slow breath and sat up in bed.
The sheets were tangled around his legs, his body still adjusting to the new weight of the muscle that had appeared overnight.
He ran a hand through his hair—too long now, curling at the edges—and looked at the screen again.
"Condoms," he said flatly.
[The system does not judge. The system prepares.]
"You're judging."
[The system is stating facts. You are meeting Lisa tonight. You have a history of making impulsive decisions under the influence of hormones. The system prefers you make those decisions safely.]
Elijah closed his eyes. "I hate you."
[Noted. Begin your tasks.]
He sat there for a moment, letting the silence settle around him.
The house was quiet. His mother was asleep down the hall.
Amy was in her room, probably still awake, scrolling through her phone in the dark.
The normal sounds of his life, the sounds he had taken for granted a week ago.
He pushed himself out of bed and stood. The floor was cold under his bare feet, the air from the window carrying the faint smell of the city waking up.
He stretched, his new body moving smoothly, the muscles in his back and shoulders rolling with a ease that still felt foreign.
"One question," he said.
[Yes.]
"You said you can create equipment. What else can you create?"
[From Unique Techniques which can only be used by you, to Normal Techniques which can be taught to others. From weapons to armor to tools. Anything, really, provided the required System Points are available.]
Elijah's hands stopped mid-stretch. "Wait, You said all techniques you create can only be used by me."
[I said Unique Techniques can only be used by you. I did not fully explain. Unique Techniques are also called Skills. They are bound to your soul. Normal Techniques are different. They are methods, formulas, blueprints. They can be learned by anyone with the proper foundation.]
Elijah's mind raced. He thought about Kai. About the breathing technique he'd spent years training, the one that gave him maybe ten or fifteen percent.
About the way Kai had looked at him in the room upstairs, tired wonder in his eyes, saying I wish I had whatever you have.
He could give him Something that would make Kai stronger, faster, more dangerous.
"How many System Points do I have?" he asked, his voice quieter now.
[670 System Points.]
"How much for the equipment?"
[300 System Points are required for the set you requested.]
Elijah nodded slowly. "Take them. And create a skill for me. Something I need."
[300 System Points deducted. Remaining: 370.]
He waited, the system was silent for a moment, processing. When the voice returned, it was thoughtful, measured.
[When Mike Reynolds pinned you with killing intent, you could not move. You could not speak. When the big man had you by the throat, your mind began to shut down. You have stronger enemies ahead. The Silent Kings are now a potential threat. You need to keep your mind clear when your body wants to freeze.]
Elijah stood in the middle of his room, the cold floor under his feet, the dark pressing in around him.
He thought about the hotel room when he was three years old.
The way his body had moved before his mind could catch up.
The way he had bitten through a man's throat because there was no time to be afraid.
He was older now. Stronger, But there were things that could still freeze him. Things that could still make him hesitate.
"A king who cannot think under pressure cannot lead," he said quietly.
[Exactly.]
"Create it."
[Give me some minutes. An hour, perhaps. The skill must be placed into your soul. It is not like the equipment.]
"Why does it take so long?"
[Because it is a Unique Skill. It must be woven into the fabric of who you are. The equipment is just metal and cloth. This is something else.]
Elijah nodded. He had time. The sun wasn't going to rise for hours.
He pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, his feet silent on the stairs as he made his way down to the kitchen.
The house was dark, the only light the pale glow of the streetlights through the window.
He stepped out the back door into the small yard.
The grass was wet with dew, the air cold against his face.
He found a spot near the fence, where the ground was flat and the shadows of the house cut the wind, and sat down.
Lotus position, Hands resting on his knees and Eyes closed.
He breathed.
In, Hold, Out.
The Gathering part of the Eternal Grounded Tree technique was different from the Circulation.
Circulation moved Ki through the body, strengthening, healing, preparing.
Gathering pulled Ki from where it was scattered and brought it together.
Every cell in his body held Ki. He had learned that from the technique.
Small amounts, spread thin, doing the work of keeping him alive without him ever knowing.
But to become something more—to reach the stage where Ki became a tool, a weapon, a second skin—he had to gather it.
Pull it from every corner of his body and bring it to his heart.
Not his physical heart. The heart was just a door.
Beyond it was something else, the origin.
A dimension inside every living thing, the place where Ki was born.
The stronger the body, the more Ki it could hold. The more Ki it could store, the more it could use.
He couldn't store Ki before. His body had been too weak.
The system had shown him his stats, had given him numbers to chase, and now those numbers had meaning.
He reached inside himself. The Ki was there, faint threads of warmth scattered through his limbs, his chest, his head.
He pulled them, gently, the way the technique taught. Letting the Ki come to him like water finding its level.
The threads moved. Slowly at first, then faster, drawn toward his chest like iron to a magnet.
He felt them gather, felt the warmth build in his heart, felt something beyond it stir.
He had read about this. The books his grandfather had given him, the ones he had devoured in the hours before the system came.
The gathering was dangerous. Pulling Ki from your cells meant pulling life from your body.
Every person was born with a certain amount of Ki, the fuel that kept them alive. Gathering it reduced your lifespan.
The older you were, the more dangerous it was.
The weaker your breathing technique, the more likely you were to die.
Most people who tried this died. Lower breathing techniques gave you almost no chance.
Middle techniques gave you thirty percent, maybe, if you were young enough.
The high techniques, gave you better odds. But even then, people died.
Elijah had a technique that didn't exist in any book.
A technique that had been created for him, bound to his soul, a technique that grew stronger every day he used it.
He had stats that changed overnight, a body that had rebuilt itself while he slept.
He pulled the Ki toward his heart.
The warmth built. His chest glowed faintly, a soft light that filtered through his hoodie and lit the grass around him.
His body trembled. The Ki was fighting him, wanting to stay where it was, wanting to keep him alive in the small, safe way it had always done.
He pulled harder.
Pain lanced through him. His vision went white. He heard himself gasp, felt his body arch, felt something inside him crack open.
And then it was over.
The Ki settled. His chest was full now, warm and heavy, the door to his origin closed but waiting.
He had gathered enough. Not all of it—his body was still too weak to hold everything—but enough.
[Congratulations on becoming a Beginner Knight]
[Your new skill has been created]
Elijah opened his eyes. The sky was lighter now, the first hints of gray touching the horizon.
He had been sitting here for hours.
The grass around him was crushed where he had gripped it, his hands aching, his chest still warm.
He looked at the screen.
Name: Elijah Ashford
Cultivation: Beginner Knight Stage (Initial Stage)
Level: 4 (7% EXP)
Stats
Strength: 27
Endurance: 23
Defense: 23
Intelligence: 32
Charm: 24
Willpower: 17
Free Stat Points: 0
System Points: 70
Unique Skills
Eternal Grounded Tree Breathing Technique
Level 1: 20% progress
A unique breathing technique created by the system and bound to your soul. Cannot be taught. Focuses on patience and grounding—sinking roots like a tree, drawing stillness from the earth, letting strength grow from patience rather than force.
Zenith (Level 1)
Increases all physical stats by up to 300%. Because you have not yet created your Ki seed, crossing 50% will decrease your lifespan. Crossing 100% will kill you. Current safe threshold: 100%.
Iron Mind (Level 1)
A passive mental skill that protects against fear, intimidation, and psychological manipulation. The user cannot be paralyzed or mentally frozen by killing intent. Maintains rational thinking and decision-making even under extreme duress, pain, or life-threatening situations.
Elijah read the description of Iron Mind twice.
Then he closed the screen and let his head fall back.
The sky was lightening, the clouds catching the first rays of sun, turning pink and gold above the rooftops.
He stood up. His legs were stiff from sitting so long, but the Ki in his chest moved through them, loosening the muscles, warming the joints.
He stretched, his arms reaching for the sky, his back cracking.
The system screen appeared again.
The tasks
Meditate on the Gathering part of Eternal Grounded Tree [DONE]
Use the system to create a Workout Vest, Breathing mask, and small super heavy weights for your legs and arms [DONE]
He opened his inventory. The equipment was there, waiting.
He pulled it out piece by piece, the fabric and metal appearing in his hands like they had always been there.
The vest was black, heavy, the fabric thick and dense. It settled over his shoulders like a weight he hadn't known he was carrying.
Twenty kilograms, maybe thirty. His knees buckled for a moment before he caught himself.
The weights for his arms and legs were smaller, but just as dense.
He strapped them on, feeling the pull in his shoulders, his hips, his calves. 15 kilograms each. Fifty total, maybe more.
The breathing mask was the worst. It fit over his mouth and nose, tight against his skin, and when he tried to breathe, nothing came through.
He stood in the backyard, his chest heaving, his hands going to the mask, ready to tear it off.
[The mask restricts airflow. You will still breathe, but the effort will be greater. Your body will adapt. Your technique will grow.]
Elijah forced his hands down. He took a breath.
The air came through, barely, a thin stream that did nothing to fill his lungs.
He took another. Another. Each one a battle.