The godseed didn’t just carry the promise of power. It was creation and destruction, locked in eternal flux, capable of twisting fate itself and turning the greatest misery into a perfect opportunity. But the universe strived for balance. Every gain had a cost, and sooner or later, the price would be paid in full.

  Present Day

  A young man in peasant clothing bent down, picking up an empty wooden bucket. He had just finished watering a small patch of land dense with vibrant blossoms. Now, he silently watched as his purple jade irises turned their faces towards the rising sun. With so much spiritual qi in the area, the three-week-old plants were already past their stretch phase, their sweet and tangy aroma thickening the air. In a few weeks, they should be ready for harvest.

  This youngster’s name was Cade Ward, and he was in a bit of a pickle. He hoped these spirit herbs would help him complete the first stage of Qi Condensation, a rank so low it shouldn’t require more than a bare minimum of talent and a couple of weeks of calm meditation.

  For what seemed like the thousandth time, Cade focused his mind inwardly, entering his realm of consciousness. He watched a mostly materialized silver ball of energy, built of tiny intricate runes, as it hovered motionlessly over an endless stretch of dense gray fog. This was his first qi sphere. Once it was fully manifested, he would no longer be the weakest cultivator in the village. In truth, he shouldn't even call himself by that name yet; he had been stuck taking the first step for over two years.

  To have any talent for cultivating spiritual energy was a huge blessing, but a single partial sphere was unlikely to get anyone far in life. Cade was nearly eighteen, and compared to Skinny Pete, who had already condensed his third sphere, his progress wasn’t just slow—it was downright pathetic.

  To make matters worse, he’d been having bad dreams recently, leaving him with a lingering feeling of impending calamity. He could never remember what they were about, but after such nights he’d wake up groggy and tired.

  “Son, can you please come over,” a soft yet firm voice belonging to his mother, Leanne, called from the kitchen.

  Cade forced a smile on his face. The last thing he wanted was to make her worry.

  “Coming!”

  At forty-two, Leanne still retained much of her youthful beauty, despite the many years she had spent toiling beneath the scorching sun. She smiled warmly upon seeing Cade. He was her only child. They adopted him when he was barely a few days old, later telling him his natural parents had died in an accident. Whether it was a stroke of bad luck or the will of the heavens, she and Jon never had any children of their own. The couple hid the grim truth from their son: they had found him in Sacrament City, lying beneath a pile of rotting trash—yet, by some miracle, still alive.

  Leanne loved him more than the earth treasured the heavens. Cade was already approaching the end of his teenage years, having lost much of the softness in his face. He was a kind young man of above-average height, with a wiry build and long black hair. He had a strong jaw, a prominent brow, and deep-set brown eyes. It was a good face for a man.

  “Please hang the sunstones outside, dear. They’re getting too heavy for my lower back,” Leanne asked, gently wiping a dirt smudge off his cheek.

  “Yes, sir!” Cade’s lips stretched mischievously. In return, he received a slap on the shoulder.

  “Don’t ‘sir’ me, you rascal! Am I a man? Are you trying to say I look ugly?” his mother asked with mock sternness, a light smile on her lips.

  “Sorry, Mom! You’re as beautiful as ever. Even noble ladies can’t hope to match your charm!” Cade offered her his best grin.

  “Well, at least you know how to talk to women. Maybe there’ll be grandkids out of you yet,” Leanne chuckled.

  “Mom!” Cade’s complexion reddened as he reached for the large, transparent crystal hung from a steel hook in the ceiling. He repeated the action in the main room, then placed both crystals outside to bask in the warm morning sun, just as his father used to do.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  In Cade’s memory, Jonnah Ward—or Jon, as everyone called him—was a giant: tall, strong, with a square jaw, blond hair, and kind blue eyes like deep lakes. Stoic by nature, he rarely spoke more than a few sentences, but when he did, it was meaningful. Cade had never even heard him raise his voice. His cultivation was at the great circle of Qi Condensation, the peak of the ninth stage, which was absurdly powerful by local standards. Jonnah also owned six ancient-looking, leatherbound books. From these tomes, Cade learned to read, eventually gaining a basic understanding of cultivation, alchemy, and plants. His favorite was the bestiary, filled with drawings of terrifying creatures.

  Jon would often remind them that if anything happened to him, they were to sell the books. He knew how difficult survival would be without him, as people in the borderlands went missing quite often. Five years ago, Jonnah left for the fields and never came back. His disappearance broke Leanne’s heart and left Cade feeling completely lost, as if his guiding light had vanished.

  Borderlanders were used to such tragedies, which happened despite the Emperor's Will protecting them from most creatures in the Wild. "Most" didn't mean "all." Every now and then, a spirit beast would slip through the barrier, powerful creatures that often found humans to be easy prey.

  Jonnah had ensured his son received a cultivator's education, teaching him martial arts from a young age. Once his chores were done, Cade would practice sword forms until they were as natural as breathing. Regrettably, after his father’s disappearance, he no longer had time to train. He and Leanne were forced to toil from sunrise to sundown on most days. Cade would often hear his mother weeping quietly at night. Witnessing her grief was heartbreaking, and he knew she would never sell the books unless they were starving.

  The two of them just had to manage.

  The picturesque landscape of the Empire’s borderlands was filled with gentle, verdant hills. Thanks to a high qi density, the land was very fertile. Most villages specialized in certain goods; Springwine’s was red wine with a tinge of spiritual nature. Leanne owned a three-acre vineyard two miles from their home, which she inherited from her parents. Under their modest house was a small basement where four to six large barrels of wine were always aging.

  Because the local soil was rich in qi, even this small plot of land could produce enough wine—six to seven hundred jugs a year—to pay for food and supplies. Vintners worked constantly. If Cade wasn’t weeding, he was planting, tying, and pruning. After the autumn harvest, the villagers would make a collective trip to Sacrament City, home of the Sword Sacrament Sect, to sell their wares. There, his parents would treat him to candied fruit, a snack he looked forward to all year.

  The increased qi density also meant higher cultivation potential. Youngsters with the highest aptitude could join the Sword Sacrament Sect trials, but there was a single requirement: they had to condense at least one complete qi sphere before coming of age.

  In Cade’s case, the time was almost up. If the purple irises in the backyard didn't help him break his current bottleneck, his chance to become a cultivator would likely be gone, at least in this life.

  He rubbed the exhaustion out of his eyes. Those bad dreams only made everything harder. It had been over a week since he slept well.

  Suddenly, a mischievous male voice from behind snapped him out of his deliberations. “What are you staring at those crystals for? Is this some new method to help you complete the sphere?”

  Cade turned around, grinning widely. “Skinny! Do my eyes deceive me, or have you finally lost weight?” he exclaimed. “Nevermind. You’re right, that’s enough staring. I’ve started hallucinating.”

  “Funny bastard you are,” a corpulent young man chortled, his body shaking like a jelly cake as he popped the last of his bread into his mouth.

  This was his best friend, Peter Graff. Though only slightly shorter than Cade, Pete was twice as wide in the shoulders. Most people called him Skinny, even his own mother. His round face might have been handsome if not for his double chin, but his disposition was jovial, and he was well-liked. His laziness was legendary, except when it came to cultivation, at which he was absurdly good.

  Pete’s expression turned serious as he approached, patting Cade’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Cade. I’m sure you will succeed! Then you, me, and Silk can all head to the trials in Sacrament City. Just think about it—all of us in one sect, advancing together, becoming Sacrament Knights!”

  Silk was a sixteen-year-old girl, and the three had been friends since they were toddlers, often dreaming of a future that didn’t involve weeding vineyards. Both Silk and Skinny had good chances of joining the sect’s outer court. From there, the road to becoming a Knight—wielding the artifact sword, Judgement—was long and arduous.

  “Thanks, Pete,” Cade sighed, feeling slightly better. His pathetic progress was always on his mind. The day was spent laboring in the vineyard, leaving little time for condensing qi. He had tried cutting down on sleep, but it only left him exhausted and stuck.

  Joining Sword Sacrament would greatly elevate any family’s standing and provide a life for his mother free from grueling, backbreaking work. Theirs wasn’t an easy life. The small income they earned was barely enough to survive the winter, let alone afford luxuries like a water crystal. Instead, every sunrise, Cade had to carry several buckets of water from the river half a mile away. The life of a cultivator was a release from such labor, a dream only a select few from Springwine ever achieved.

  He turned his head towards the garden, towards the beautiful jade flowers. One way or another, in a few weeks, he would know his fate.