Servants and "Price Tags"

Ron knew this was the critical moment. During his last body tempering, this energy had nearly torn him apart.

But this time, he had already grasped the key to it.

Taking a deep breath, he began trying to guide the violent energy with the unique rhythm of the "Corona Breathing Technique."

At first, the power remained difficult to control, raging through his meridians like a blazing fire.

But as he adjusted his breathing, the violent energy gradually settled and began circulating along a specific path.

Perfect guidance Rhythm detected

Control Level: High

Additional attribute increase obtained: Constitution +0.2

Constitution: 1.2 → 1.4

Just as the energy was about to be fully guided into his meridians, Ron suddenly sensed something unusual.

Within his perception, the flowing energy seemed to form a pattern, like a miniature sun slowly rotating inside his body.

It reminded him of the vision he had seen during his first body tempering, but this time, the scene was much clearer. He could even sense a deeper meaning contained within it.

"Focus completely." Andre's voice suddenly turned grave. "You should be able to see something now."

Indeed, in Ron's perception, that sun was not merely a pattern. It was more like the manifestation of some kind of law.

The way it moved perfectly matched the rhythm of the "Corona Breathing Technique."

Special perception unlocked: Sun Wheel Rhythm—

Understanding of solar energy slightly increased—

"Corona Breathing Technique" cultivation speed slightly increased

"So that's how it is." Ron finally understood.

This breathing technique was called the "Corona Breathing Technique" not simply because it could guide energy resembling that of the sun, but because it itself was imitating the laws governing the sun's movement.

When the final trace of energy fully merged into his meridians, Ron slowly opened his eyes. He found Andre watching him with an odd look.

"You..." Andre seemed about to say something, but hesitated. "You saw the Sun Wheel pattern?"

Ron nodded. "Not only did I see it, I also sensed the law within it."

"Unbelievable." Andre's expression grew complicated.

"Even I only gained that realization after reaching the second stage of cultivation, yet you've only undergone your Second Body Tempering and already..."

He did not finish, but Ron understood what he meant. This understanding of the breathing technique's essence was far more meaningful than simply completing a body tempering.

On the way back to the dormitory area, Ron kept thinking about what had happened that day.

The reason he had been able to preserve the vitality of that glowing Star Grass was entirely because he had unconsciously used the rhythm of the "Corona Breathing Technique" while sorting it.

With every breath-guided motion, the energy within the medicinal herb flowed in a specific Rhythm.

"What are you thinking about?" Andre's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"I was thinking..." Ron stopped, recalling the bottle of Artificial Star Dew. "Does every kind of extraordinary power have its own specific 'rhythm'?"

"What do you mean?"

"Just like Star Grass maintains its vitality according to a certain rhythm, and Scorching Essential Oil also needs to be coordinated with the breathing technique's rhythm to take effect."

Ron explained, "Then perhaps spiritual power also..."

Andre became interested. "You mean that if we can find the 'rhythm' of spiritual power, we might be able to speed up meditation?"

"At the very least, it's worth trying." Ron nodded. "Mrs. Allen said she would teach me how to prepare simple potions today. Maybe I can find some inspiration there."

As they spoke, the two had already arrived at the dormitory area.

The moment they stepped onto the stairs, they heard a burst of hurried footsteps.

A girl dressed luxuriously but somewhat disheveled hurried past them. The heavy scent of perfume concealed faint traces of blood and sweat.

Ron recognized her as Emily, one of the Candidate Apprentices from the same batch as them.

According to her previous introduction, she seemed to be a noble lady from a ducal family as well.

Yet at that moment, this duke's daughter had her collar thrown wide open like a hostess at some special establishment. Her exquisite makeup was badly smudged, and a faint flush lingered at the corner of her lips.

When she saw Ron and Andre, Emily's face reddened. She lightly covered her face with one hand and quickened her pace, disappearing around the end of the corridor.

"Another one." Andre gave a contemptuous sneer. "Three people have already chosen this path this month."

"What do you mean?"

"You don't know?" Andre glanced at Ron's puzzled expression.

"Apprentices who pass the assessment have the right to take servants. For those who can no longer see any hope, attaching themselves to an apprentice early on is not exactly a bad way out."

His tone carried a trace of mockery.

"Emily went to Marcus's place in Tower Three. I heard that guy especially likes collecting these 'beautiful servant girls.' He already has five or six."

Only then did Ron understand. He noticed that a gloomy look had suddenly appeared on Andre's face.

"Speaking of which, Marcus and his twin brother have recently been studying some cursed witchcraft for extracting spiritual power. I heard one of their servants has already been turned into an idiot because of it."

He paused, his voice low. "But even so, people still keep rushing toward them. In the Black Mist Forest, simply being able to stay is already the greatest wish of many."

Ron fell silent. This was the world of wizards—where the strong held the power of life and death over the weak. This hierarchy had long since seeped into their bones.

"Still," Andre said, reining in his emotions slightly, "you've found yourself a pretty good path. Mrs. Allen may be strict, but at least..."

He did not finish, but Ron understood. The old witch looked terrifying, yet from their interactions over the past two days, she was already an exceptionally kind person.

"Speaking of that." Ron remembered the bottle of Artificial Star Dew and searched for something to say. "Why do you think Apprentice Holt gave me such a precious potion?"

"Probably because he values your talent." Andre shrugged.

"In the Black Mist Forest, no goodwill is ever without reason. If you successfully advance in the future, you may have to offer a corresponding return."

Every gift bestowed by fate had already been secretly marked with its price tag.

Ron nodded. He understood perfectly well what lay behind the meaning of that "gift."