BATTLES OF THE WORLDS

The soft clink of porcelain, the low hum of conversation, and the gentle creak of wooden beams overhead gave the restaurant a cozy, worn-in feel. Lanterns hung from thick ceiling ropes, casting flickering amber light that danced across the walls, where faded calligraphy scrolls and nature paintings swayed faintly in the warm breeze. Outside the open window beside their table, cherry blossoms drifted down from a tall tree, landing silently on the stone path below.

Mike leaned back in his carved wooden chair, the edge of the polished table cool beneath his wrist. He stirred the steaming bowl of broth before him with his chopsticks, watching the ripples dance like flames on water. A subtle scent of star anise and peppercorn filled the air, mingling with the tang of soy and garlic.

"You know," Mike said, eyes distant, "we should explore the Inner Forest."

Feng Jian looked up mid-bite, his chopsticks paused with a flake of tender fish trembling at the tip. "The forest? That place wrapped in mist? Why the sudden interest?"

Before Mike could answer, Lei Hu leaned back, crossing one leg over the other as he shot a grin across the table. "Don't dodge, Mike. We're still waiting for the story—you and her."

Mike's shoulders stiffened just a little, though he laughed it off, reaching for his drink. "It's not like that. She's just… a friend."

Ling Xue raised a brow, twirling her spoon slowly. "Maybe you see it that way. But I've seen the way she watches you. Like you're something important."

Mike sighed, setting his bowl aside and watching the rain-speckled window. "Alright, enough love drama. How's everyone's cultivation going?"

Feng Jian exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "This place is strange. No teachers breathing down your neck, no schedule. Just... silence and spirit stones."

"The silence is good," Ling Xue said softly, her eyes on the candle flame in the middle of the table. "You can hear your own energy move, feel the wind around your soul."

Mike nodded slowly. "I'll ask Master Jian Dao for help. He might share something useful."

"You should," Lei Hu said, flashing a crooked grin. "He's your golden key. Go unlock some ancient secrets or something."

Just then, footsteps echoed lightly over the smooth floorboards, and the restaurant manager appeared, notepad in hand. The scent of sesame oil and grilled meat followed him.

Mike glanced up. "Four beef soups, one salad, drinks, fish curry, and a plate of spiced chicken."

The manager gave a small bow and walked away.

---

A few days later...

A sharp bell tolled across the Academy grounds, reverberating through the stone walkways and polished courtyard tiles. The cherry trees along the path shuddered in the breeze, scattering petals across the clean marble. Above, the sky was a crisp blue, with feathered clouds trailing lazily past the towering academy spires.

Mike folded the scroll in his hands and stood, the paper crinkling softly. "That announcement sounded serious."

Feng Jian, already tightening the strap of his belt, nodded. "Information Hall. Let's go."

Students poured into the hall like a river, some in clean uniforms, others with robes slightly rumpled from their training. The great doors, etched with golden runes, stood wide open. Inside, torches flickered along sandstone walls, their light glowing against stained-glass windows that painted the floor in soft color.

Mike and his friends found seats close to the front. The carved stone benches were cool and slightly worn at the edges from years of use.

Then, a gentle voice spoke just behind him.

"Mike… are you okay now?"

He turned to see Rong Meilin, her braid swaying slightly as she tilted her head, concern flickering in her eyes. Her tone was as soft as falling leaves.

"I'm fine. Thanks," Mike replied politely, his gaze shifting back to the stage.

At the center stood Headmaster Jian Dao, his long robe fluttering ever so slightly as a breeze filtered through the high windows. His presence alone quieted the room.

He didn't shout. He didn't need to.

"Newcomers," he began, "remember this: your cultivation depends on willpower and effort. The Academy gives you the space. What you do with it… is up to you."

Whispers stilled.

"And," he added, "a Pill Competition will take place in the coming months. Prepare."

Mike leaned toward Feng Jian. "Pill competition? What's a pill?"

Feng Jian scratched his head. "No idea."

Lei Hu chuckled, arms folded behind his head. "Something to boost strength. Or heal. I think."

Just then, the tall back doors creaked open. The room turned. Jian Wu entered, her boots clicking against the polished floor like slow clock ticks. Her black robe shimmered faintly beneath the colored lights of the stained-glass windows. Without a word, she slid into the bench behind Mike.

Mike turned halfway. "Hey… why'd you storm off? I didn't mean it seriously."

Before she could reply, Feng Jian nudged him. "Ask her about the pill. If she knows, that helps all of us."

Mike faced her again. "Wu… what exactly is a pill?"

She looked at him, lips quirking into a faint smirk. Her eyes glinted like dark glass.

"A pill is crystallized willpower," she said quietly, almost whispering. "Small, round... yet more powerful than most weapons."

Mike blinked, confused. "Come again?"

"They can heal. Or raise your level in a single breath. There are nine grades, from the first to the ninth. Few can make them. Fewer can make the highest."

"And who makes them?"

"Alchemists," she replied, then paused, her gaze settling on his palm. "They need flame to refine. Most can't do it. But you... you have a flame."

Mike blinked at her. "What flame?"

She didn't answer. Just smiled faintly, knowingly.

"To make pills, you need ingredients," she added. "Mentors give them out here. But in the real world, you hunt for them—under roots, near spirit lakes, in caves guarded by beasts. Oh, and you'll need a cauldron."

She sat back, arms folded. "One day, you'll get it. If your will is strong enough."

Mike slumped, groaning. "This sounds like torture."

Lei Hu clapped his shoulder. "Torture? You're lucky! You've got a fire inside you. Don't waste it."

Mike looked down at his hand, curling his fingers. The skin felt the same… but there was something, wasn't there?

Not heat.

Something deeper.

Something waiting to ignite.