Ryojin and Kina entered the hut , a lot of people ,mainly young adults, were present sitted on benches their faces laced with anticipation.
" Come on Rio, let's sit here."
They sat on the last row, in front stood an old man dressed in a reb robe.
" Whose that?" Ryojin asked.
" Master Kazin," Kina replied. "He'll be conducting the lesson."
The old man stood before the eager crowd , his fingers tracing the edges of a wooden cane. His gray beard swayed slightly as he chuckled, shaking his head.
"Ah… You lot, you think you're ready for the world of spirits? That forming a pact is as simple as shaking hands?" He tapped his cane on the ground. "Listen well, children. Spirits are not your friends. They are not your pets. They are forces of nature, of will, of things beyond mortal understanding."
He took a deep breath and looked over the gathered crowd, his sharp eyes scanning them one by one.
"You wish for power? Then be ready to pay the price."
A boy with a scar over his eye raised his hand. "Master, what kind of price do spirits ask for?"
Master Kazin nodded approvingly. "A fine question. A spirit's price depends on its nature. A fire spirit may demand warmth from your very soul—leaving you forever cold. A shadow spirit may take your reflection, ensuring you never see your own face again. Some spirits demand memories, emotions, even years of your life. And the stronger the spirit, the heavier the cost."
A girl in the back frowned. "But what if I refuse to pay?"
Kazin leaned on his cane, a grave expression settling on his face. "Then the spirit takes what it wants. Or worse—it leaves you, taking all its gifts with it. Imagine a swordsman losing his arms mid-battle. That is what happens to a fool who makes a pact he cannot honor."
The crowd murmured, glancing at one another, some shuddering at the thought, Ryojin however remained silent.
The old man straightened his back. "Now, listen well. Spirits come in different forms. Knowing them will save your life."
"Elemental Spirits – The Wrath of Nature."
He spread his arms wide, as if summoning a storm. "Fire, water, earth, air—the very elements themselves. These spirits grant control over nature's raw power. A warrior bound to a fire spirit may set the battlefield ablaze. One who pacts with an earth spirit might stand unshaken like the mountains."
A young man in blue robes raised his hand. "Master, which elemental spirit is the strongest?"
The old man smirked. "Foolish question. There is no strongest element—only the strongest wielder. Fire burns, but water drowns. Air slashes, but earth crushes. It is not about what you wield—it is about how you wield it."
" The second type-Ethereal Spirits – The Whispering Ones."
His voice lowered, and he made a motion as if tracing invisible symbols in the air. "These spirits do not shape the world, but the mind. They weave illusions, read thoughts, and control emotions. the spirit of dreams, can make a man believe he has lived a thousand lives in a single night. A shadow spirit, lets you vanish into darkness like a ghost."
A girl whispered, "That sounds terrifying."
The old man chuckled. "Indeed. A blade to the throat is merciful compared to a spirit that can make you doubt your own memories."
"The third type-Bestial Spirits – The Wild Ones."
He stomped his cane on the ground. "These spirits take the form of animals—wolves, dragons, ravens, serpents! A pact with wolf sharpens your senses to that of a predator."
A muscular man crossed his arms. "So, these spirits are just about making us stronger?"
The old man shook his head. "Not just strength, but instinct. A wolf spirit makes you cunning. A snake spirit teaches patience. Power is nothing without the mind to wield it."
Ryojin leaned back as he recalled the floating beings he saw at the market. " were those.." He thought. " No it couldn't have been, a spirit can only be seen by it's wielder."
" The forth type-Ancestral Spirits – The Voices of the Past."
His expression softened as he looked toward the sky. "Some spirits are the remnants of great warriors, kings, sages or even your deceased loved ones. A Warden spirit might shield you from harm, while an Orator grants wisdom beyond your years. But remember—these spirits do not serve. They guide. If you prove unworthy, they will abandon you."
A young lady with curly brown hair frowned. "But what if I lie to them? Trick them into forming a pact?"
The old man's laugh was sharp and cold. "Lie to a god? To a being who has seen centuries pass like days? Hah! You would not even have time to regret your mistake before they erased your very soul."
The young lady paled, nodding hurriedly.
" And finally the Netherbound Spirits – The Cursed One."
A hush fell over the crowd. The old man's voice became grave. "There are spirits that do not belong in this world. Spirits of hunger, of nothingness, of endings. The Netherbound Spirits." He traced a slow circle in the air. "The spirit of void, can erase anything it touches. Others drags the living into the realm of the dead. And some…" He shuddered. "some grow stronger by consuming other spirits."
A nervous voice piped up. "Then why would anyone form a pact with them?"
The old man sighed. "Desperation. Greed. Or foolishness. Make a pact with a Netherbound Spirit, and you will wield power beyond imagination. But the price… may be everything. But it is hard to summon these spirits just like the ethereal Spirits."
A silence stretched in the hut as everyone digested his words. Then, the scarred boy spoke again. "Master… what happens after we form a pact?"
The old man smiled, eyes twinkling. "Ah, that is where your journey truly begins." He lifted his cane, pointing at them.
"You start as an Initiate, just learning to control your spirit's power.
With time, you become an Adept, able to use it in battle.
A true Manifestor can call their spirit into the world to be seen by everyone .But only a Spirit Lord and beyond can truly merge with their spirit, becoming something more."
Kina stared, wide-eyed. "And beyond that?" she asked curiosity laced in her voice.
The old man's smile faded. "There is a level beyond… but few live to see it. The Luminara regent —a being who is no longer man nor spirit, but both. They do not walk among us, for they have become myths."
The girl with curly hair clenched her fists. "Then I will become one."
The old man laughed, his voice rich and full of something between amusement and sorrow. "Ah, such fire. Very well—chase that dream! But be warned." He leaned forward, his voice barely above a whisper.
"The path to power is paved with sacrifice. Are you truly ready to pay the price?"
The crowd became silent.
Ryojin was however lost in thought, "I wonder if they are stages to this power I wield."