Dawn was already creeping across the sky when Kira returned to her room.
She dropped onto the stool and opened the pill bottle, emptying the contents into her palm. A strong medicinal scent filled the space. The pills were smooth and warm to the touch.
"Only five," she muttered, sighing.
I don't know how much these will help… she thought. But I have to reach at least the twelfth stage before the tournament.
With only five spirit stones left, she knew she couldn't afford much—but she'd buy whatever she could. After that, it would be nothing but training. Day and night. Sword forms, footwork, cultivation.
Then another thought struck her.
Wait… my manual doesn't even explain how to get past the ninth stage.
She stared at the bottle a moment longer before tucking it away.
I'll deal with that when I reach it, she decided grimly.
With a plan in mind, she left again, running toward the sect's market district. The rain had stopped, but puddles still dotted the muddy path. She ignored them, focused solely on survival.
By the time she reached the market, the sun had barely broken the horizon, yet the place was already buzzing with life. Vendors shouted prices and waved goods; disciples wandered between stalls, browsing weapons, pills, talismans.
Kira moved among the stalls, disheartened by the prices. Her five spirit stones barely qualified her to afford anything from proper merchants.
So she turned to the back alleys—where goods were sold on rugs, crates, or bare ground.
Most sellers had junk. Rusted weapons. Fake pills. Frayed manuals.
But one figure caught her eye: an old man dressed in the blue robes of the inner sect. He was the only one with that level of status in this corner of the market.
Kira bowed politely. "Greetings, Senior Brother."
The man looked up from behind a folding fan, his voice rasping. "How can I help you, Junior?"
She sat down in front of him, not caring about the mud soaking into her robes.
"I'm looking for something to help with cultivation. Not pills—something more permanent."
"Permanent?" he chuckled. "Little one, permanent cultivation aids are rare. And expensive."
"I figured…" she sighed.
"You seem desperate," he said, eyeing her.
"I am," Kira admitted.
"May I ask why the rush? You're from the new batch, aren't you? You shouldn't force your cultivation."
"I wouldn't… if I had a choice," she said quietly. "I'd rather not talk about it."
The old man leaned forward. "Indulge an old man at the twilight of his life. Maybe I can offer some… pointers."
Kira hesitated, then gave in. "I… offended an elder. She gave me an ultimatum—win the tournament, or die."
The old man raised a bushy brow. "Which elder?"
"The Pale Blade," she said, voice flat.
He sucked in a sharp breath. "That is… most unfortunate," he said, laughing dryly.
Her heart sank at his reaction.
"But…" he continued, a glint in his eyes, "if she gave you a challenge instead of ending you on the spot, it means she sees something in you."
"You think so?" Kira asked, hope flickering in her chest. "Maybe she'll spare me if I show effort?"
"Oh, definitely not," he said without hesitation.
The flicker went out.
"Elder Liora is ruthless," he continued. "But if she gave you this deal, consider yourself lucky."
"I don't see the luck," Kira muttered.
"Maybe not now. But perhaps… I can help."
He reached into his storage ring and produced a small wooden box.
"I acquired this during the war against the Sword Valley Sect. That was eighty years ago, give or take."
He opened it, revealing a cracked pearl with a faint golden hue. Despite the damage, it glowed faintly, humming with sharp energy.
"This pearl still radiates with Sword Qi. I never had a use for it—I don't wield the sword like you," he said, nodding to the blade on her back.
"I don't know what it does. It might be worthless… or it might be exactly what you need."
Kira stared at the pearl, captivated. It was perfectly round, yet somehow radiated a sense of sharpness—like it had once been part of a blade.
She reached for it—but snap, he shut the box.
"How much?" she asked.
"How much do you have?" he replied with a sly grin.
Kira hesitated. Maybe I shouldn't have told him about my situation…
"I only have five spirit stones," she admitted.
His smile dropped. "That's it?"
He turned, slipping the box back into his ring.
"Wait!" she said quickly. "How about a deal?"
"A deal?" he drawled.
"If I win the tournament, I'll pay you back—one hundred spirit stones. Think of the five as a deposit."
He raised an eyebrow. "And if you don't?"
Kira thought for a moment, then drew her sword and set it on the ground between them.
"Then you get the pearl back—and my sword."
The old man examined the blade. His fingers traced the edge with surprising reverence.
"Hmm. Deal," he said. "But I'll be at the tournament. If you try to vanish, I'll find you. Don't underestimate an old man—I can end you in a heartbeat."
Kira smirked. "One more death threat doesn't make much difference at this point."
"That's the spirit, little girl."
He handed her the box, and she gave him the five stones. As she turned to leave, he called out behind her.
"I'll see you again soon."
She didn't look back.