Chapter 7: A Fire Beneath the Clouds
Ramon woke to the usual morning haze outside his window—just another dull, colorless morning in Cloudpetal City. The pale light spilled weakly across the uneven stone floor, like it couldn't even muster the energy to be bright. This was how most mornings felt here—cold, quiet, and a little bit hopeless. But today? Today felt different. It wasn't huge, but something in the air seemed a little sharper, a little more… real.
He pushed himself up from the bed, his joints creaking as he sat, crossing his legs with a motion that had become second nature now. It wasn't because he'd been cultivating for years—far from it—but because his body remembered. It remembered what the old Ramon had done all those years, meditating alone in the woods, watching the sect disciples train from a distance, mimicking their movements with scraps of knowledge he'd stolen from abandoned scrolls.
Now, all that muscle memory—the rhythm of stillness—belonged to him.
Ramon breathed in deep, slow and steady, like he had all the time in the world. His heart slowed, his body settling into the calm. It felt like his muscles and bones were finally catching up with the fact that he was no longer just some scared orphan—he was a cultivator now.
He focused, calling on the Cloud Refinement Technique.
It was a simple method, almost laughable to most cultivators today. The outer disciples of the Cloud Lotus Sect probably passed it around as a joke. The old Ramon had found a faded scroll of it, tucked away in some forgotten corner of a market stall, the paper half-dissolved by rain. It wasn't much, just an old method. But it had been his lifeline—his only way forward when nothing else made sense.
Now, he could feel it—he activated the flow of spiritual energy, guiding it through his body in slow, controlled waves. Energy moved through his limbs, his blood, sinking deeper, filling the spaces in his bones and turning into Qi—his Qi. It wasn't a struggle anymore. The energy was flowing smooth, like water running through a pipe that wasn't clogged or cracked. It was clean, steady, and strong.
His meridians no longer resisted, his core no longer sputtered with effort. It was like he was finally in sync with the body he'd inherited, the one he'd been given a second chance to use.
His bones hummed with power, a subtle vibration beneath his skin. He could feel it.
Half an hour later, Ramon opened his eyes. His brow was dotted with sweat, but his breath was calm, steady. His body felt alive, charged. He had done it—he had entered the Bone Refinement stage. No question about it.
This was the third substage of Body Refinement, the first realm in a cultivator's journey. And crossing it meant his body was finally strong enough to handle what was coming next. From here on out, he'd have to keep strengthening his physical vessel to survive the storms ahead.
He stood slowly, stretching his arms above his head. Every movement felt more grounded, like his feet were actually planted in the earth beneath him. Even breathing felt different—like he was drawing in strength with every inhale, like the air itself had more to offer. It was subtle, but it was there.
Back on Earth, he'd read about cultivators who could split mountains and walk on clouds. But here, in Virelya, things weren't as glamorous. Not everything was shiny and grand. Cultivation had withered. The world had changed. Spiritual energy was thinner, more fragile than it had been during the so-called golden ages. The myths of Nascent Souls soaring through the sky? Those were just stories now—told to scare kids or make them dream.
Here in Cloudpetal, the strongest cultivator was the Sect Master of the Cloud Lotus Sect. A man who had somehow reached the Core Formation Realm. Even that was considered rare—a near-myth. Most cultivators never even reached past Organ Refinement. Those who did spent their whole lives struggling to reach the next stage—Energy Condensation—where their internal energy finally started flowing like their breath. Spiritual techniques would become real, and not just hopeful theory.
But Ramon? Somehow, he'd already crossed the line from Muscle to Bone Refinement without even meaning to. He'd done it by accident. And that alone made him… different. Special, maybe.
After washing his face with a handful of cold water from a cracked basin, he drank a mouthful of weak tea in the inn's common hall, feeling it burn a little on the way down. Then he returned to his room.
He sat at the small table and pulled out a scrap of paper to make a plan.
There were three things he needed before he even considered approaching the Cloud Lotus Sect again: familiarity, confidence, and control.
He may have reached the Bone Refinement stage, but that didn't mean he understood his own strength. Power without understanding was a liability. It could get him killed just as easily as it could help him crush an enemy. He'd already faced that monster in the dreamlike realm of shadows and belief—but that wasn't the same as dealing with something real. Something alive. Something with claws and teeth.
He needed to test himself. Push his limits. He needed to feel what it was like to face danger and come out alive.
That meant one thing: He was going back to the Redwood Forest.
He needed experience, the kind that didn't come from scrolls or stories. He'd hunt. Test his strength. Temper himself the same way cultivators of old had—through hardship, through blood. And only after that, when he knew exactly what he was capable of, would he think about stepping into the Cloud Lotus Sect again.
Not as a beggar.
Not as a stray.
But as a cultivator.
Ramon strapped his worn traveling cloak over his shoulders, the fabric already frayed from years of use. He slung the crude spear across his back, the same one the old Ramon had made with nothing but a fire and a desire to survive. It was familiar, heavy in a way that made him feel grounded. Like an anchor.
The streets of Cloudpetal were beginning to stir, the vendors opening their stalls with bleary-eyed hands, the city moving at its usual lethargic pace. It was still dying, still withering away, but it clung to life in a way that made it seem like it would never truly let go.
Ramon ducked through narrow alleys and side paths, his feet quick and quiet as he moved away from the main roads. He passed through the temple district, its ruined shrines and broken statues barely recognizable as anything sacred. No one noticed him as he left the city behind and entered the trail that led into the Redwood Forest.
There were no guards here. No barriers. Who would bother watching this part of the city? No one sane entered the forest willingly.
But Ramon wasn't just anyone anymore.
As the trees began to crowd in around him, the air grew heavier, thick with mist. The scent of damp earth and decaying leaves filled his lungs, and somewhere far off, he heard the eerie call of a bird—or something that sounded like one. It was quiet here, silent except for the natural world's noise, the only sound the soft crunch of his boots on the forest floor.
Ramon smiled, his eyes lighting up.
This was where it all began.
Not in some grand palace. Not in a sect full of lofty promises.
But here. In the heart of the forest. In the quiet, dangerous place where true cultivators once made their mark.
Here, among the mist, the silence, and the unknown.
He would find a beast. Push his limits. Test what he had become. Only then would he walk back through the gates of Cloud Lotus, not as someone begging for scraps, but as someone who had earned his place.
The path ahead stretched deep into the gloom, waiting.