Day 1 of Exponential Growth
Lin Xun tasted blood.
His vision blurred for a moment as a throb shot through his arm. His right hand was swollen—knuckles cracked, skin torn in places. His sleeves were soaked, half with sweat, half with the blood leaking despite the tight wrapping he'd torn from his robe.
But none of that compared to the pressure in his chest. A tight, growing heaviness that pulsed with each heartbeat, like something inside him was about to burst.
And yet… he was calm
Too calm.
Even now, crouched in the shadow of a worn-down training platform, with disciples whispering and throwing him strange glances from afar, he didn't panic.
He thought.
That wasn't a technique, he reasoned silently. I didn't use any body-strengthening method. I just blocked his elbow.
So why did that block snap Wen Tao's arm like a twig?
He remembered it clearly. The sound. The way Wen Tao screamed. The way everyone stared at him afterward like he'd done something unnatural.
Because he had.
The power didn't feel like it came from a martial technique. It felt… wrong. Wild. Overflowing. Like holding a sword with no scabbard.
It hadn't been him. And yet, it had.
Wen Tao wasn't some weakling. He'd been in the sect longer, was higher ranked, and loved humiliating outer sect newcomers during sparring.
Lin Xun had expected to lose.
So when the first strike came—a sharp elbow aimed at his ribs—he simply blocked.
It was instinct. Basic movement.
But then came the dry snap.
Loud. Clear.
The scream.
The silence.
And the confused horror on every disciple's face.
Wen Tao collapsed, howling, his arm bent the wrong way.
Lin Xun had done that with a basic block.
I didn't even put power into it… he thought, breathing slowly. Why do I feel like I've stepped into something I can't walk away from?
Anger flickered in his chest. Not at Wen Tao. Not at the watching crowd.
At himself.
Why did I go today? Why didn't I pretend to be sick?
But then, he caught that thought.
Anger. Emotion. Irrational. He dissected it immediately.
The anger wasn't rage. It was warning.
The fear wasn't panic. It was preparation.
The pressure in his chest? Feedback.
He wasn't gifted. He was unstable.
Something inside him had changed. And he didn't know why.
It started last night.
He'd felt strange. Warm all over. Then the heat grew into a dull burn.
His legs trembled. His chest tightened. His heart pounded like drums.
He didn't sleep.
He sat all night, leaning against the wall, biting on his robe to keep from groaning.
By morning, the heat was still there—but it had faded into something different.
He felt... strong.
Not just strong. Heavy. Dense. Focused.
His steps had weight. His senses felt sharp. But his body also felt like a jar overfilled with boiling water.
I didn't break through a realm, he told himself. I would have known.
There was no technique. No inner world transformation. No flow of qi.
But he was undeniably stronger.
And if this continues…
That thought terrified him.
When the elders arrived to carry Wen Tao away, Lin Xun was already gone.
He didn't wait for punishment or questioning.
He left.
Quietly. Without a word.
He headed toward the cliffside trails beyond the training grounds, far past where most outer sect disciples wandered.
A dangerous place. No one trained there anymore. A landslide years ago had shattered the paths, and most considered the area unsafe.
But Lin Xun remembered a detail from an old cleaning assignment. A place where the wind didn't blow right. A wall of vines that never moved.
He found it near dusk.
He parted the vines, revealing a narrow crack in the cliff face.
He felt it then. That same strange pressure in his blood, guiding his hand.
He struck the wall lightly.
The rock shifted.
Dust poured out.
Behind it, a hidden tunnel.
Dark. Narrow. Empty.
It wasn't a cave. It was something older—manmade. Forgotten.
Lin Xun stepped in without hesitation.
No light. No sounds.
Perfect.
He dropped his satchel by the corner of the stone room. He'd only grabbed some dried food and two water flasks from the communal stores before vanishing.
He sat on the cold floor, back against the wall, and closed his eyes.
He could still feel the pulsing in his chest. A sense of pressure, growing, deepening.
This is going to happen again, he thought.
Tomorrow, I'll be stronger.
And the day after.
And the day after that.
How much longer until it breaks me?
Or someone else?
I need to understand this power before it understands me.
If he didn't take control of it, it would control him.
And Lin Xun had no interest in becoming a weapon for someone else.
He would not be used.
He would not be hunted.
He would master it.
No matter what