Dragon Domination: The Ultimate Legacy.

The wind carried the scent of pine needles and river moss, rustling the branches above the village like a whisper only the hills could hear.

Yun Long knelt on a worn stone slab beneath the old cedar tree, spine straight, palms resting on his knees.

"Breathe in. Slow," he murmured to himself, echoing the words Old Chen had once said in passing. "Breathe out, Sink, Let it flow."

It had been three days since the envoy from the Falling Star Sect left. The villagers had already returned to normal life, shrugging off his visit as coincidence. But for Yun Long… something lingered.

He didn't know why his breath felt deeper now.

Or why he could hear the creak of a hawk's wings high above, even when it hadn't called.

---

Down by the stream, several children practiced striking exercises under the watch of an elder boy named Ping Hu, the village miller's son. Strong, proud, and broad-shouldered, Ping Hu had been training the longest.

He narrowed his eyes as he saw Yun Long alone beneath the tree.

"Still playing sage, Yun Long?" he called out, laughter in his voice. "Or did the sect envoy appoint you their new leader?"

Some of the boys chuckled. Yun Long opened his eyes but said nothing.

Ping Hu's tone sharpened. "Careful you don't choke on your breathwork. Qi training isn't for daydreamers."

The teasing stung a little — but Yun Long smiled faintly. "I'm not choking," he replied simply.

"Let's see you prove it, then," Ping Hu challenged, tossing a smooth river stone his way. "Catch this."

Yun Long stood, eyes locked on the stone flying toward his chest. He didn't flinch.

He stepped forward and caught it cleanly.

Silence.

"Beginner's luck," Ping Hu muttered.

But even he knew — most kids would have hesitated or blocked. Yun Long had moved naturally, without thinking.

That wasn't luck.

---

Later that evening, Yun Long sat beside Old Yun, who stirred dried herbs into a boiling pot.

"Grandpa," Yun Long asked quietly, "is it possible to feel something moving inside your chest, like… a second breath?"

The old man stirred slowly, then looked up.

"A second breath?" he asked with surprise.

Yun Long nodded.

Old Yun hissed with contemplation: "According to the town records. Then you've stepped into the first true stage of the village path," Old Yun said calmly. "What we call 'Opening the Gate of Breath.' It's nothing like the sects' methods, but it's ours."

"Not sure that exists in a sect" he concluded.

"What happens next?"...Yun long asked

"You stabilize the breath. Guide it. And one day, if your foundation is firm, you might form your first true Qi thread. But don't rush."

Yun Long nodded slowly with confusion:

"I won't."

---

That night, as the moon rose and the crickets chirped, Yun Long sat cross-legged in bed.

The stone from the merchant still hadn't glowed.

But as he entered breathwork once more, he felt it: a single thread, like a strand of silk, slowly weaving through his lower dantian.

He smiled in the dark.

"I am not wrong, not daydreaming"

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