The Broken Paths

Atlas rolled his shoulders, feeling the ache settle deep into his bones. He had been careful, slipping out unnoticed—or so he thought. Just as he reached the courtyard, a voice cut through the night.

"And where do you think you're going?"

Atlas sighed, turning slowly to see Xian Yue and Ming standing with their arms crossed, unimpressed.

"Ah, my ever-vigilant guardians. Fancy meeting you here" Atlas said, flashing his most disarming grin.

Ming adjusted his sleeves. "Fancy meeting us? You mean catching you before you do something incredibly stupid. Again."

Xian Yue squinted. "You can barely walk straight, Atlas. What exactly is the grand plan here?"

Atlas leaned against a pillar, feigning nonchalance. "You see, I've grown rather fond of movement. Figured I'd test the limits of my body before it completely turns to stone."

Ming sighed. "And you thought sneaking out at night was the best way to do that?"

Atlas placed a hand on his chest, mockingly offended. "Sneaking out? No, no, you misunderstand. This is an experiment in self-reliance. A test of—"

"No." Xian Yue cut in.

"Absolutely not." Ming agreed.

Atlas groaned, running a hand through his hair. "You two really enjoy making my life difficult."

Ming smirked. "It's a full-time job. Now get back inside before you collapse and make it worse."

Atlas sighed dramatically but relented, at least for now. It had been days since he first forced himself to move, to retrain his body after weeks of lying uselessly in a bed. His steps were still unsteady, his muscles still weak—but at least he could walk.

That night, when the halls of Shrouded Peaks were silent, he sneaked out and met with Daokan as he was walking around.

"Teach me how to release Qi freely, Master Daokan" Atlas said, his voice quieter than usual. Not arrogant, not cocky—just sincere.

Daokan studied him, unimpressed. "I teach only those who can learn."

Atlas smirked, rolling his stiff wrist. "Then it's a good thing I'm a fast learner."

But he wasn't. Not this time.

Daokan demonstrated how to exhale Qi, letting it disperse naturally instead of absorbing it like a sponge. He stood still, breathing in deeply, and then exhaled in a controlled release. The air around him wavered subtly, as if the very energy within him was dissolving into the world.

"Qi is not meant to be hoarded like gold" he explained.

"It flows, like a river. Your body, right now, is a dam with no release gate. You must learn to open it—slowly, carefully."

Atlas frowned. "And if I open it too fast?"

"Then you'll drown in your own power, or worse—burst apart."

Atlas grimaced but nodded. He closed his eyes and mimicked Daokan's breathing.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale. But instead of a smooth current, the Qi he absorb during the day clung stubbornly to his core. A faint tremor ran through his fingers. It didn't want to leave.

Daokan tapped his shoulder. "Don't force it. Guide it. Use your breath to lead it outward, not expel it violently."

Atlas tried again, focusing on the sensation. This time, a fraction of his Qi slipped away, dispersing into the cold night air. It wasn't perfect, but it was a start.

Atlas tried—and failed. Tried again. Failed again.

"So what, I just… breathe it out?" Atlas muttered, frustrated.

Daokan sighed. "If it were that easy, you wouldn't need me."

They continued for hours, and though Atlas barely made progress, he learned one thing—

It was possible. And that was enough.

Atlas asked with genuine curiousity ''I never once used this Qi in my life. I didn't even know I caused the arena in your sect to be split in half thanks to me. How come this is happening?''

Daokan studied Atlas for a moment before answering. "There are three possibilities."

Atlas raised an eyebrow. "Only three? I was hoping for something dramatic, like 'You were cursed at birth' or 'You swallowed a dragon's pearl as a baby.'"

Daokan ignored him. "First, it may be that your body has an unconscious affinity for Qi absorption. Not all cultivation is active—some people naturally draw in energy without ever training. If this is the case, your body has been absorbing Qi in minuscule amounts for years, accumulating it without a proper way to process or release it."

Atlas frowned. "So I've been a walking Qi sponge my whole life and never noticed?"

Daokan nodded. "That leads to the second possibility—your body adapted due to prolonged exposure. Perhaps it began as nothing more than passive accumulation, but after years of unregulated absorption, your system adjusted. That would explain why the effects were minor until now."

Atlas tapped his fingers against his knee. "And the third?"

Daokan's gaze darkened. "The third possibility is that this power was dormant, only now manifesting due to external triggers. Something—perhaps your battle with Shen Xue—forced it to awaken violently. If that's the case, then this is not merely an anomaly. It's something far more dangerous."

Atlas exhaled slowly, absorbing the information. "So I'm either a natural-born freak, an evolved freak, or an unpredictable freak."

Yan Shuren chuckled from the side. "Pretty much."

Atlas ran a hand through his hair, muttering, "Wonderful. Just wonderful."

The next morning, Shen Xue dragged him to the courtyard, her grip firm and unyielding.

"You're moving better" she admitted, rolling her shoulders.

"Let's see how much."

"You could've just asked, you know" Atlas muttered, rubbing his sore wrist.

"Dragging me like a sack of rice wasn't necessary."

Shen Xue's smile was all teeth. "You pissed me off. This is my revenge."

Atlas barely had time to react before she lunged.

She didn't hold back—not even a little. The force behind her first strike sent shockwaves through his already battered frame. He barely twisted in time, letting the momentum carry through him rather than resisting outright.

It was rough. His body still ached, and his Qi absorption built up faster than he could handle. But this time—

This time, he dispersed just enough.

When she struck again, the impact travelled through him, forcing him to stumble instead of collapse. When he absorbed too much, he slammed his foot down, cracking the stone beneath them to release it in a controlled burst.

Shen Xue narrowed her eyes. "You're actually learning."

Yan Shuren, watching from the side, smirked. "At least he's not exploding anymore. That's progress."

Atlas exhaled, his breath unsteady but triumphant. "See? I'm a natural."

Atlas narrowed his eyes, noticing the subtle shift in Daokan's demeanour. The old master wasn't easily shaken, but something about this situation clearly disturbed him. And that meant something was very, very wrong.

Atlas exhaled, rolling his shoulders. "Alright, humour me then. If I wanted to absorb more Qi—let's say in a life-or-death situation—how would I do it?"

Daokan didn't answer. But Yan Shuren did.

"You shouldn't."

His voice was sharper than usual, the weight of his words immediate.

Atlas tilted his head. "That wasn't my question."

Yan clicked his tongue in irritation. "Doesn't matter. You shouldn't even be thinking about it."

He crossed his arms, expression dark. "You have no Qi. No natural reserves. Your body absorbs, yes, but not like a cultivator's. We guide Qi through our meridians, train our bodies to store and refine it. You? You're like a broken gourd with a hole in the bottom—no storage, no refinement. The more you take in, the worse it'll be when it tries to get out."

Atlas smirked. "Sounds like a problem for future me."

Yan's brow twitched. "It'll be a problem for dead you."

Atlas chuckled but didn't argue. He had learned when to push and when to listen. Instead, he turned his attention back to Daokan.

The old master was still watching him, unreadable.

"So?" Atlas pressed.

"If I had to do it—if I was in a situation where absorbing Qi was the only way to survive—what's the method?"

Yan let out an exasperated sigh. "There are only a few ways, and none of them are good."

He held up three fingers.

"One: Direct Contact. If you touch someone who's actively channeling Qi, your body will naturally try to absorb it. But without control, you could take in too much, too fast, and overload."

He lowered a finger.

"Two: Proximity. Your body already draws in Qi passively. If you were to stand in a place where Qi naturally gathers—like an ancestral ground or battlefield where cultivators fought—you'd take in more than usual. Problem is, you have no way to regulate it. You'd be gambling with your life."

Another finger dropped.

"Three: Forced Absorption. The most dangerous method. If you willingly allow someone to attack you with Qi, your body will instinctively try to take it in as a defense mechanism. But without a core to stabilize it, you'll either explode or collapse from internal damage."

Atlas hummed, nodding as if Yan had just explained the mechanics of a simple trade deal. "So basically, I'm a sponge without a bucket."

Yan rubbed his temples. "That's… a stupid analogy, but yes."

Atlas glanced at Daokan. "You're awfully quiet, Master. Something on your mind?"

Daokan finally spoke, voice slow and deliberate.

"You misunderstand, Atlas. Your body doesn't just take Qi. It returns it."

Atlas stiffened. "...What?"

Yan looked equally startled, turning sharply toward Daokan. "Master, what are you saying?"

Daokan's fingers twitched again, just slightly. He sighed, closing his eyes.

"I've seen something like this before. Not often. And especially not in someone like you."

His gaze flickered toward Atlas, sharp as a blade. "Qi, once absorbed, doesn't vanish. It must go somewhere. And in your case… it doesn't stay inside you."

Atlas processed that carefully. "So I don't just take. I give."

Yan inhaled sharply, realization dawning. "That would explain why he doesn't suffer from Qi poisoning like normal cultivators would. It means he's—"

"—a conduit'' Daokan finished.

"A body that neither cultivates nor stores, but instead redirects."

Atlas blinked. Then a slow, mischievous smile spread across his face. "Oh, now that's interesting."