The sterile scent of the infirmary faded as Rudra pushed open the heavy oak door leading to the administrative wing of Adraksha Academy. Elara, the Head Medic, had worked her efficient magic. The worst of the microfractures were knitted, torn muscles reattached, and the deep-seated exhaustion replaced by a profound, bone-aching weariness, along with a lingering hum of newly refined power. His body felt denser, tougher, his prana flowing smoother, steadier.
He navigated the hushed, carpeted corridors, a stark contrast to the echoing brutality of Gamma Sector. Polished dark wood panelling and the faint smell of old parchment and polished stone spoke of tradition and authority. He found the door: Vice Principal Edward – Inner Academy Affairs. He knocked, the sound sharp in the quiet.
He knocked. The sound echoed clearly in the stillness.
"Enter," came the cool, sharp voice from within.
Rudra pushed the door open. Edward's office was a reflection of the man: austere, functional, yet radiating contained power. A large, unadorned obsidian desk dominated the space. Behind it, a wall of floor-to-ceiling reinforced glass offered a breathtaking, panoramic view of the sprawling Academy grounds below, the distant training fields mere patches of colour. Shelves lined another wall, filled not with decorative trinkets, but with meticulously organised scrolls, crystal data-slates, and a few artefacts that pulsed with low-level energy – a preserved scale the size of a shield, a twisted piece of dark metal, a globe of swirling grey mist. The air hummed faintly with ambient prana, thick and controlled.
Edward sat behind the desk, not looking up from a glowing holographic display hovering above its surface, intricate runic schematics slowly rotating. He wore simple grey robes, the Director's insignia – a stylised tower struck by lightning – a subtle silver pin on his collar. His sharp features were impassive, but as Rudra stepped fully inside, closing the door, Edward finally lifted his gaze.
"Sit," he said.
Rudra took the seat across the desk—a sturdy chair made of dark wood and leather.
"I've heard," Edward said, voice calm but heavy with meaning, "about your performance in Master Earth's class. He paused, then added Good Job.
For a split second, something flickered across Edward's face—surprise, maybe even a trace of admiration—but it vanished quickly. "You went far beyond the expected outcome." For Edward, this was high praise.
This is just the beginning Rudra replied.
A ghost of a smile touched Edward's lips. Looking forward to it.
He leaned forward slightly. "Before we proceed, would you happen to have any questions?
Rudra didn't hesitate. One question had bothered him since Master Nite's lesson.
"Master Nite talked about the stages—Spark, Ripple, Spring. He said a steady Spring means you're close to breaking through to Level 4, where it becomes a Stream."
Edward nodded. "Go on."
"My prāṇa," Rudra said, locking eyes with him, It feels deeper. Wider. Like a Stream already. Does that mean I've reached Level 4?"
Edward's calm expression changed. The spinning diagrams above his desk flickered. His entire focus snapped to Rudra. His eyes sharpened.
"A Stream already?" he said quietly. "Describe it. In detail."
Rudra closed his eyes briefly, feeling it. "It's deep. Wide. The flow is strong and constant. When I fought Vaishnav, it moved fast.
"Show me," Edward commanded, his voice low. He extended his hand across the desk, palm up.
Rudra placed his own hand atop Edward's. He didn't force his prana outwards aggressively; instead, he focused on letting its nature flow towards the point of contact, a subtle current seeking recognition.
Edward's eyes narrowed. His fingers closed lightly, not restraining, but sensing. His pale grey irises seemed to sharpen, focusing on something unseen. A minute passed in tense silence, broken only by the faint hum of the office's ambient energy.
Finally, Edward released Rudra's hand, leaning back in his chair, a rare expression of profound surprise etched on his features. "Fascinating. Utterly fascinating." He steepled his fingers again, his gaze distant for a moment, processing. "You are correct, Rudra. What flows within you is, in its fundamental nature, akin to a Stream. It possesses the volume and the perceived power characteristic of a Level 4 initiate."
He paused, letting the implications sink in before delivering the crucial distinction. "However, you are not a Level 4 Initiate. Not yet. What you possess is… raw potential given premature form. You skipped the staircase and jumped straight to a higher floor, but the structure beneath is incomplete."
Edward leaned forward, his gaze piercing. "Here is the critical difference:
A normal cultivator spends years nurturing their Spark into a Ripple, then refining that Ripple into a robust Spring. This isn't just about accumulating volume. It's about quality and resilience. They meticulously:
Burning away impurities, compressing the energy slowly, making it denser, purer, stronger per unit.
Their body slowly adapts to hold and channel the increasing power. Muscles, bones, and meridians – all are gradually reinforced.
The internal channels through which prana flows are widened and strengthened gradually, ensuring they can handle the eventual Stream without rupture.
The breakthrough to level 4 isn't just a quantitative leap; it's a qualitative metamorphosis. When a Level 3 Initiate with a fully nurtured, refined Spring breaks through:
Their total prana reserve doesn't just increase; it multiplies significantly, often by a factor of three to five times.
The Spring undergoes a fundamental shift. It doesn't just widen; it deepens and condenses. The energy becomes vastly denser, purer, and more potent. A single unit of Level 4 prana holds significantly more power than a unit of Level 3 prana.
"You," Edward continued, his finger tapping the obsidian desk for emphasis, "bypassed the meticulous refinement.
Your prana volume is immense, likely surpassing many Level 3 Initiates and perhaps rivaling a new Level 4 in raw quantity. But its quality is inferior. It's less dense, less pure, less potent per unit than a level 4 initiate Stream. Think of it as a wide, shallow river versus a deep, powerful channel. Yours has the width, but not the depth or the concentrated force.
And you haven't undergone the metamorphosis an individual goes through when one breakthroughs to level 4. Your core hasn't expanded through the breakthrough process. Your pathways, while reinforced by your unique body, haven't been systematically widened and tempered for the specific density and flow of a true Stream. They are handling the volume, but inefficiently.
You are functionally a Level 3 Initiate, possessing prana volume exceeding your rank and a form mimicking the next level, but lacking its refined essence and the core expansion that defines it."