Chapter 25: The Art of the Spirit-Sotapanna
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Miles furrowed his brow in concentration, his hand shivering with effort. 

The spike of scarlet crystal before his palm remained stable with only a hairline fracture marring its structure, despite being formed with only one blood point. 

Yes. With an hour or so of repeated attempts, Miles had finally been able to form a smaller Ironblood Spike.

He was fairly confident he could release the spike, making it shoot forwards just like it was supposed to. But as usual, he liked to overreach. 

Doing his best to maintain the already formed spike, he released the blood point he was holding back, allowing it to move. 

Just as the blood rushed to nourish the smaller spike, to make it grow larger into the size of a basic spike, Miles held it back. 

After a moment's pause, he released it. And the blood rushed forwards once more, only to be stopped again. 

Miles kept repeating this process, over and over. It was hard work, mentally draining, but he could almost feel his control over blood increasing, at least by a sliver, each time. Pleased with the improvement and eager for more, he kept at it. 

Another half an hour passed, and the next time he released his hold, the blood simply just remained there. As if it had learned its lesson, the blood point remained unmoving, unsure of what the hell he wanted it to do. 

‘Eh?’

Miles had not expected this, for the blood to stop of its own volition, for the process of the skill to pause without his purposeful obstruction. 

Due to the surprise and the ensuing shift in his emotions, Miles almost lost control of the existing blood spike, barely preventing it from shattering. But he was intrigued nonetheless. 

‘Why did it stop? Can blood… learn? Adapt?’

With a sudden bout of inspiration, he nudged the blood slightly to the left of the already existing spike. 

It almost seemed to work, as the blood followed his suggestion, slowly forming a second Ironblood Spike

But… it just wasn’t meant to be. 

Kacha! 

It was a despairing sound, one that Miles had gotten quite familiar with over the last few hours. Fractures appeared over both the blood spikes, slowly widening and spreading. 

He did his utmost best to try to maintain their form, to stop them from shattering…

When suddenly, a loud and jarring creak rang out, as the door to the training room opened. 

With his complete concentration on the blood spikes, Miles had failed to notice or sense the opening of the door.

He turned to the side, mostly out of sheer surprise rather than to see who it was.

Unfortunately, this also meant the two deadly spikes turned with him, and… reasonably he lost his focus. 

Boom! 

The two Ironblood spikes struck Zhan Shen, exploding in a cloud of red crystal shrapnel. 

As the red dust cleared, Miles could see that the old butler had his arms crossed before his chest, obviously to defend against the attack. To his relief, old Zhan was unhurt. But most unusually, even the sleeves of his suit were undamaged. Not even a blood crystal shard remained on him...

‘What? How? Zhan Shen is strong, but the Ironblood Spike isn’t that weak either!’ 

The old butler slowly lowered his arms, finally voicing a rather familiar question, “Master Miles, what the hell was that?!” 

***

“A skill? This ‘system’ grants you full-blown skills, on par with some Fae abilities? And not just one?!” asked Zhan Shen, with widened eyes. 

Miles shrugged, “More or less. I should be able to get more, or at least I hope so. 

Anyways, it’s your turn. How the hell can you be unscathed by the blood spikes?” 

The old butler grinned, “Master Miles, you just noticed this now? Did you not wonder why there wasn’t even a speck of dust on my clothes, despite fighting with that flying knight of yours?”

‘That’s... actually true. At the time, I had thought it was because old Zhan was fast and could dodge the attacks. But now that I think of it, he still shouldn’t have been able to avoid getting hit by splinters and shards. Surely he should've been scratched at least? Could this have something to do with that strange ability of his?’ 

Curious, Miles asked a question he had been meaning to ask for a while now, “Old Zhan, what is your Fae ability?” 

The old butler frowned, “Fae ability? I have none.” 

Miles’s eyes widened, before slowly shifting into a gaze of disbelief, “You’re joking! There’s no way you could almost defeat a Military Knight without a Fae ability. Besides, I noticed the changes to your face and eyes, even that strange giant shadow. What could it be, besides an ability?” 

Zhan Shen remained serious, slowly shaking his head, “Like I said, not a Fae ability. All of the Fae Serums I could afford back then were of the Enhancement type. Most were invested in Agility, making me a speed-based fighter at the Epsilon level. I have no Faetality left for abilities.

As for what you saw, those were just side-effects. My inner spirit leaking out, as a result of taking from the stream, beyond what my self can handle.” 

“Spirit? Stream? What do you mean? Are you saying this is another application of Spiritualism? Can the Art of the Spirit do more than just seal evil spirits and calm minds?” 

With a frown that seemed to say the answer was obvious, the old butler answered, “Of course! The Spirit Arts are far more than the fortune-telling and spirit dealing that common men believe it to be. I suppose... it is time I passed on this knowledge to you. A bit sooner than I had planned, but manageable,” and waved at the floor, signaling his ward to sit. 

Miles obeyed. 

Zhan Shen always seemed to dislike chairs. Whenever the old butler had taught or trained him, the floor had been their seat. More than once, Miles had asked him for reasons, feeling rather annoyed. The old butler had always given the same patient smile and explained. 

That the floor or the ground is the greatest of all seats, placing us closer to our roots, to the great earth, to our origin from time immemorial. That the knowledge he would share was not meant to be learned by those who are seated high, but for those who can remain humble enough to sit where we walk. 

At first, Miles had been rebellious, finding the act of sitting on the hard ground quite uncomfortable. But over time, it had grown on him. Sometimes, he felt that he could understand better when he was seated on the ground, but... he was sure it was his imagination. 

Zhan Shen began to speak with a peaceful smile, “Like I said, Spiritualism, the Art of the Spirit, is not a field of learning limited to fortune-telling or the spirits that walk among us. It is not even about conversing with the spirits or making use of their favors. In fact, it isn’t even a field. If I had to describe it, it would be a journey, an arduous path to mastering oneself, of understanding the self and the world beyond us. A road that only ends at total self-realization, with enlightenment, with the ending of all suffering.” 

‘Uhh, okay…?’ 

Noticing his expression, the old butler revealed a small grin, “I understand your skepticism and disbelief, Master Miles. Once upon a time, I thought the same. At first glance, it sounds like some religious practice, only suited for monks and priests. Well, it is practiced by some, but that does not mean its benefits have to be limited to the clergy. 

To be honest, even I am unsure of this so-called enlightenment. Even the great master who passed on his knowledge to me was far from reaching it, and myself, further still.” 

Miles gave a short nod and asked, “Then what about your defense? How did you avoid injury?” 

Zhan Shen grinned, “Because I am a Stream Enterer, a Sotapanna, one who has waded into the raging stream that flows from the origin of the soul, where the true understanding of the self lies.” 

Miles raised an eyebrow, this time voicing his confusion, “Uhh, alright…? But what exactly does that mean? Could you explain without being as vague as a mysterious old man?” 

The elderly butler’s grin grew wider. 

And that was how Miles knew for sure that his guardian was trying to be vague on purpose. 

Thankfully, Zhan Shen seemed to take pity on him and began to explain, “That is how my master answered when I asked. But as I understand how you feel, I’ll explain better. 

A Sotapanna, or a Stream Enterer, is an individual who has a rudimentary understanding of oneself. The first step to self-understanding begins with the most obvious thing that makes a person. The body.

The physical body of all living beings is fueled by a type of abstruse energy.

Across history and various civilizations, this energy has gone by many names. Prana, Qi, Ki, Chakra, Internal Energy. It is the fuel that drives all living beings, and I’m confident even Vampires have some type of equivalent,” his gaze on Miles. 

‘That’s true. I suppose, Blood Points or rather Blood, can be considered as a Vampire’s energy?’ 

Zhan Shen continued, “This energy originates from the stream. The stream of origin, the soul river, the flow of self.

Martial art masters and expert warriors, those who do not rely on Fae abilities but grew strong with nothing but arduous training, they all have touched upon this abstruse energy. Their field may not go into the depths of the topic as we Spiritualists do, but it is ultimately the same thing. They can feel that internal energy and use it to strengthen themselves.

In fact, I’m confident their awakening, the change that happened when the Fae invaded, involved some qualitative change to the energy they had access to.

On the other hand, a Sotapanna, a Stream Enterer, is in constant danger of losing his self. We are in a constant battle with the soul stream, trying to wade against the current, to reach the origin. 

It is not dangerous as long as one is confident in who they are, as long as they can stand steadfast against the current. But then again, how many can truly say they know themselves? The men and women who have lost themselves in the rivers of the self, returning changed or never at all, are uncountable. 

Still, danger often comes with benefits. Even a novice Stream Enterer can reach for the power of the stream, using the current to work for their purposes. They can use the flow to give strength to their attacks, stability to their defense, speed to their movements, and energy to quell their fatigue.

The power of the current we have access to is ultimately the same life energy used by martial artists. The only difference is, while they cautiously take from the stream and use up the energy, we wade within it and use only the natural flow of the current.” 

'Huh. Interesting...'

Miles could understand what Zhan Shen was speaking about. It made sense in words, but really, he knew nothing. What he truly knew, was almost as little as when he began. 

Zhan Shen seemed to understand this and smiled.

With flashing eyes, he asked, “Perhaps my own master didn't explain it for this very reason. All he did was let me experience it for myself.

So Master Miles, how about I too show it to you in practice? A small bout like we used to train? I'll limit myself of course, but I must admit, I truly am interested to see what a Vampire, one who has trained under me since childhood, can do...” 

Thanks for reading!

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