The next week of my life would decide if I was destined to be ridiculed or be triumphant. Honestly, there was no time to waste. But time with my parents was anything but wasted.

Mother finished preparing a wonderous array of overflowing dishes, bringing them to the dining room.

"Eat up!" she proudly exclaimed, "You're all skin and bones!"

Unfortunately, she was right. My body had wasted away to a husk, and even lifting chopsticks was a strain. Nevertheless, I gave my thanks and dug in.

For a few minutes, conversation disappeared as I wolfed down plate after plate of food. Mother and father sat patiently waiting for me to finish my feast.

Finally, stuffed to the brim, I lay back in my chair, content. Drowsiness from all the food tugged at my eyes, but I stayed chatting with my parents for almost an hour. Eventually, I had to bring up the dreaded topic.

"Mother, I'm gonna go back to school next term."

"What? How could you–" she stopped herself and sighed, "That evil boy is still there, and the school did nothing about it! Baby, that place is dangerous!"

"I know, mother. But I knew that from start, nothing's changed."

"Nothing has changed? How could you say that?!"

"I love you, and I hate scaring you," I solemnly replied, "but cultivation is what brings me joy! I can't stop here."

"Baby, you're being reckless! What if you get hurt like that again?"

"Mother, I really don't want this to happen again. I was way too arrogant, and I'm really trying to change. I'm gonna be super careful."

Mother composed herself, showing a stern expression, "If you go back, can you promise me that you'll never get hurt like that again?"

I wanted to lie on instinct. To reassure her that it would all be okay. But that simply wasn't the truth. The torment I had been through was only the start.

Was it better to tell a white lie? Or to hurt her with the truth? No, the choice was clear. No more lies. No more false promises.

"I'm sorry mother, I can't. But I promise I'll be really, really careful."

Mother took a deep sigh and stared me with a wistful expression, "I can't stop you, can I?"

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

"Why did you have to turn out just like your father."

"Hey," father objected, "what do you mean by that?"

"You're both so damn stubborn! You just won't listen to rhyme or reason."

"Hm. I'd prefer if you called it 'perseverance'." Father added with a cheeky grin.

"Shut it, you." She retorted playfully.

Mother cleared away the dishes, and the tense mood began to clear. I spent the rest of the afternoon lounging and chatting, until father returned to his study, and mother disappeared somewhere in the house.

I sat on the garden bench, watching the sun fall in perfect alignment with the circular entranceway. Despite the peaceful setting, my thoughts were tumultuous.

How I could I optimise next weeks training? My goal was functional combat, and I had to play off my strengths.

With my emaciated body, I had no hope of relying on physical strength. My stamina was weak, so a drawn-out fight was dangerous.

Thankfully, my soul was full to the brim. Qi leaked out of the unclosed valve, and I realised my luck. If I had left that closed after the fight, my soul would have exploded by now.

So, using my overwhelming qi was the only option. But I didn't even know if I could use the Qi Manifestation technique effectively. Would it work on regular students with pure body cultivation?

If I didn't rely on that technique, the other choice was developing direct qi attacks. But regardless of my tactic, there was a crucial person that could help me: Father.

I made my way to father's study, knocking on the door.

"Come in!"

Making my way in, I sheepishly greeted him, "Hi father."

"Hm," he looked up with suspicious eyes, "what's on your mind?"

"I'm thinking about next week."

"That 'hunting season' you mentioned?"

"Yeah. Honestly, I'm super weak right now. But I need to be ready to fight for next week."

"I'm glad you came to ask me about that. Come with me."

We stepped out through the library and onto the back patio. Leaning on the railings, staring out over the ocean, father started talking.

"You're in pretty hot water, and I've been thinking about it all day. You have two options. Either you work on weaponizing your technique or I teach you a new one. Your choice."

"I don't know if my technique will work on body cultivators.."

"Then, why don't we try?"

I looked at him with surprise, "Are you sure?"

"What's the harm?" He slipped off the sleeves of his robe, letting it hang at his waist, "Hit me with it!"

"Uh.. okay.."

I walked to the opposite end of the patio and entered meditation. Remembering the feeling, I channelled some qi to my palm and held it there.

"I'm ready."

"Then do it!"

Father stood about a dozen feet away, so I built pressure in my palm, then shot my qi in a jet. It arced a few feet, then fell to the ground in an amorphous blob.

We both stared at it for an awkward second.

"Well, that was disappointing." Father chuckled.

Not giving up, I connected with the blob and gave it the command to charge. It twitched a bit and squelched towards him, but nothing more.

Embarrassed, my emotions swelled, and I urged it forwards. The blob stretched back, then fired itself in a spike, striking father's leg.

"Oho," father exclaimed in surprise, "now that's a bit better!"

I ordered my qi to consume his leg, and it wriggled its way into his flesh.

"That's a weird feeling."

Once my qi was out of sight, a connection formed. I was in control. Smiling at what was about to happen, I flicked my wrist, pulling father's leg out from beneath him.

"Oh!"

For a split second, father lost his balance. Then, instinct kicked in. His leg rippled, doubling in size, his muscles emitting a furious heat.

The intense heat incinerated my qi, causing a bolt of pain to strike my soul. I winced at the unexpected backlash, but it was gone before long.

"Haha, sorry about that," father laughed, "you caught me by surprise!"

We sat down on the bench to discuss my options.

"After seeing that," father started, "I believe that's your best option. I didn't quite believe that you broke through to Low Elite Grade!"

"What does Low Elite Grade mean?"

"Well, it means you can control qi outside your body. If you weren't Elite Grade, you wouldn't have been able to sweep my leg out!"

Father patted me on the back proudly, "I've known a fair few talented soldiers who never reached Elite Grade! It's a big barrier to cross!"

I remembered master mentioning that a while ago. He said it would take years for me to reach Elite Grade, and I was excited to prove him wrong.

"So, what do you think I should do?"

"Well, you need to make it into a combat technique. Something that you can reliably hit someone with."

"Like.. a whip?"

"Hm. I've never trained with a whip," he conjured a glowing, golden dagger, "bladed weapons are more my strong suit."

"I don't know.. I feel like a whip makes sense."

"Oh, I'm not saying it's a bad idea. I just can't give you any help! And you're speaking to a weapons expert here."

Fathers words sent a thought through my head. Within the memories I had acquired from the demon, there was one that stood out. The hooded figure, laden with chains, that captured it. And I had a hunch.