Dual Cultivation Path

The morning sun ascended over the Verdant Crest Academy, its golden rays glinting off jade-tiled towers and bathing the sprawling grounds in a warm glow. Roderic Vane stood outside the east wing novice dorm, his patched tunic freshly brushed free of dust, the brass key to Room 12 tucked in his pocket. His core thrummed with qi—a vast, uncharted flame forged by the relic's shards—his hazel eyes glinting with eager anticipation. Today, all newly admitted students—those like him who'd earned free entry through raw talent and those who'd paid steep tuitions—were required to visit the academy's elemental headquarters—Fire, Ice, Earth, Wind, and Spirit—to test their qi's affinity and determine their cultivation paths.

He leaned against the dorm's weathered gray stone wall, boots scuffing the packed dirt, waiting for Barnaby Quill. The air buzzed with the chatter of novices spilling from their cramped quarters—some draped in crisp silks bearing clan crests, others clad in threadbare cloth like his own—all clutching scrolls handed out at dawn. Roderic's scroll was simple, its ink stark against the parchment, ordering them to visit each HQ in turn, no exceptions, to uncover where their qi resonated most. His grin widened at the prospect—fire felt instinctive, a match for the heat simmering within him since the relic's awakening, but he'd let the tests reveal the truth.

Barnaby emerged from the dorm, his sandy blond hair tousled as if he'd just rolled out of bed, pale blue eyes blinking against the sunrise. His faded blue tunic hung loosely, the stone pendant at his neck swaying as he jogged over, his lopsided smile breaking through a yawn. "Morning," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sleep okay?"

"Barely," Roderic replied, pushing off the wall, his grin infectious. "Qi's itching to move. You?"

"Same," Barnaby said, falling into step as they headed west, the scroll crinkling in his hand. "Roommates snored like beasts—kept me up. Where're we starting?"

"Fire HQ," Roderic said, nodding toward a plume of smoke rising beyond the training fields. "Feels like my kind of place."

The path wove through the academy's vibrant core—past sparring grounds where qi flared in brilliant bursts of light, gardens of spirit herbs glowing faintly beneath protective arrays, and lecture halls echoing with the stern cadence of instructors' voices. The Fire Element HQ loomed ahead, a squat, imposing tower of red basalt, its walls streaked with blackened scorch marks as though kissed by countless flames. Arched windows flickered with an inner glow, and smoke billowed from a wide chimney, thick and acrid, carrying the sharp tang of ash and molten metal. A massive iron door stood ajar, flanked by two disciples in crimson robes, their hair singed at the ends, their ember-sharp eyes scanning the novices as they waved them inside.

Roderic and Barnaby joined the throng—twenty or so students, a mix of free admits like themselves and tuition-paying heirs, their faces taut with a blend of nerves and bravado. Inside, the air slammed into them like a furnace, dry and blistering, the heat pressing against their skin and drawing beads of sweat to their brows. The walls were lined with racks of glowing blades, their edges shimmering with heat, and braziers spat tongues of flame that danced in the dim light. At the center of the chamber stood a raised platform, its surface scorched and pitted, holding a single test apparatus—a bronze basin etched with intricate flame runes, cradling a fist-sized ruby orb that pulsed like a living heart, radiating a heat that shimmered the air above it.

A Fire Elder presided over the platform, a wiry man with a shaved head, his crimson robe patched with burn scars that told tales of countless fires endured. His dark eyes glinted like smoldering coals as he surveyed the novices, his voice barking out rough as gravel. "Line up," he commanded, gesturing with a hand scarred from wrist to knuckle. "Four at a time—channel your qi into the orb. Fire affinity shows red—bright for strength, dull for weak. No fire, no glow. Go!"

Roderic and Barnaby shuffled into the line, the heat prickling their skin, sweat already dampening their tunics. The first four stepped forward—two clan boys in silk, a girl in ragged homespun, and a burly lad with a shaky grin. They pressed their palms to the orb, and it flickered to life: one glowed a dim red, one a bright crimson, and two remained dark. "Two in, two out," the elder snapped, waving the failures off with a dismissive flick of his scarred hand. The two who'd failed trudged away, shoulders slumped, their dreams of fire cultivation snuffed out in an instant.

Barnaby went next, grouped with three others—a silk-clad girl with a haughty tilt to her chin, a wiry boy with darting eyes, and a tuition heir sporting a smug smirk. He pressed his hand to the orb, his gentle face tightening with focus, qi flowing from the modest core he'd fought to awaken during the talent test. The ruby pulsed once, twice, then glowed—a dull red, steady but faint, like a coal just catching flame in a dying hearth. The elder grunted, giving a curt nod. "Fire affinity—weak, but passable. You're in."

Barnaby stepped back, exhaling a shaky breath, his lopsided smile returning as he glanced at Roderic. "Not much, but it's something."

"Something's plenty," Roderic said, clapping his shoulder, his grin wide and encouraging. "Fire suits you—quiet, but it burns when it needs to."

His turn came soon after, grouped with a twitchy girl who fidgeted with her sleeves, a clan heir with a sneer, and a broad-shouldered boy who cracked his knuckles nervously. Roderic stepped to the orb, its heat licking at his palm as he pressed it down, the ruby's rhythmic pulse syncing with the steady beat of his own heart. He closed his eyes, reaching inward to his core—that vast, deep flame, alive and eager, forged by the relic's mysterious shards—and let the qi flow, a controlled stream coursing down his arm and into the stone. The orb flared instantly—red, but not dim or dull like Barnaby's or the others'. It blazed, a crimson so vivid and bright it bathed the platform in a fiery glow, the runes igniting with sparks that danced upward like embers caught in a gust, the air crackling with an intense, palpable heat.

Gasps rippled through the gathered novices, the elder jolting back a step, his ember-dark eyes widening in astonishment. "Gods above," he rasped, his rough voice trembling as he stared at the orb. The red deepened, pulsing with a ferocity that shook the bronze basin, flames licking along its edges as though the metal itself might melt under the onslaught. "Extraordinary—pure fire qi, unbound strength! This is no ordinary affinity!"

The students around him murmured, their voices threading with awe—"Look at that glow!" "He's a monster with fire!"—while Barnaby's grin widened, pride glinting in his pale blue eyes as he watched his friend shine yet again. The clan heir beside Roderic scowled, his own dim red fading into insignificance, and the twitchy girl's jaw dropped, her faint glow forgotten. The elder waved the others off, his gaze lingering on Roderic, a rare flicker of admiration breaking through his stern facade. "Fire Cultivator—elite potential. Next HQ."

Roderic stepped back, the heat still tingling on his skin, his grin steady and unshaken. "Told you—fire's my thing," he said to Barnaby, who laughed—a bright, easy sound—as they headed out, the crimson glow still echoing in their wake like a promise of what was to come.

The Ice Element HQ lay to the north, a striking counterpoint to the fire's ferocity—a towering structure of pale blue marble veined with silver, its walls glistening with a thin sheen of frost that sparkled in the sunlight. Its peaked roof dripped with icicles, their tips shimmering like glass, and the air grew colder with every step, breath puffing white in the crisp chill, the ground crunching beneath their boots with a thin layer of rime. A carved door of translucent crystal stood open, flanked by two disciples in silver-blue robes, their pale faces and cold, unblinking eyes ushering the novices inside with silent gestures.

The interior was a frozen cathedral—walls of sculpted ice rising in swirling, intricate patterns, pillars of frost stretching upward to a vaulted ceiling where chandeliers of crystalline shards hung, refracting the light into prismatic rainbows that danced across the floor. The air bit at Roderic's lungs, sharp and clean, the scent of snow and mint cutting through the lingering ash of the Fire HQ. At the chamber's center stood a platform, its surface a slab of polished ice, bearing the test apparatus—a silver basin etched with delicate snowflake runes, cradling a sapphire orb that glowed with a frigid, icy light, its chill radiating outward in subtle waves that frosted the nearby stone.

An Ice Elder oversaw the proceedings—a tall, imposing woman with white hair braided tightly down her back, her silver robe shimmering like a sheet of frost, her piercing blue eyes scanning the novices with a detached authority. But it was the coordinator standing beside her who stopped Roderic in his tracks, his breath catching mid-exhale. She was 22 years old, her presence commanding despite her youth, with long, black hair cascading in thick, lustrous waves past her waist, its inky sheen catching the icy light. Her olive skin glowed against the silver-blue tunic she wore, and her violet eyes—sharp, unforgiving—locked onto him with a cold intensity that sent chills racing down his spine. Her figure was as breathtaking as he remembered—full, heavy breasts straining the bodice of her tunic, hips flaring wide, and an ass so perfectly curved it seemed sculpted, all wrapped in fabric that clung to her every contour. It was her—the girl from the dorm, the one he'd seen half-naked, now revealed as a senior Ice Cultivator radiating a power that dwarfed his unrefined strength.

Her cold stare pierced him, her qi a palpable frost that seemed to freeze the air between them, a testament to years of cultivating the ice element—honed, lethal, a quiet storm of control. Roderic's talent was vast, extraordinary, but still raw, unpolished, and her presence made that gap starkly clear. "You," she said, her voice a shard of ice cutting through the chamber, her lips curling in a faint, disdainful sneer. "The pervert."

Roderic froze, his grin faltering into a sheepish grimace, heat clashing with the chill as his face flushed red. Her allure hit him like a wave—those violet eyes, that lush body—and his cock hardened unbidden, a surge of lust flaring wild and uncontrollable, tightening his patched trousers painfully. The memory of her—olive skin bare, curves spilling from that silk shift—flooded back, and he stammered, voice catching. "I—uh—didn't mean—"

Her stare silenced him, her power a frigid wall, and he swallowed hard, the heat in his gut warring with the shivers down his spine. The elder waved four forward—Roderic, Barnaby, and two others—and Barnaby tested first, his qi sparking a faint blue in the sapphire orb before dimming, no ice affinity present. He stepped back with a shrug, his gentle smile returning as he glanced at Roderic. "Not my thing—yours?"