Bram was the first to look away.
He glanced down at the wooden tablet in his hand, then back at Rowan.
"This must be recorded," he said. "You should come with us to the clan hall."
"Now?" Rowan asked.
"The sooner, the better."
Lyle's expression grew darker.
The house had already slipped from his hands, but he still seemed unwilling to accept it.
"He could be hiding something," Lyle said. "How does a hundred-year-old man suddenly enter Essence Gathering?"
Bram frowned.
"Breaking through late is unusual, but it is not a crime."
"At his age, it should be impossible."
Rowan looked at Lyle.
"Yet here I am."
Lyle's hand moved toward the sword at his waist.
Rowan noticed it.
His body reacted before his mind did.
Spiritual essence moved through his meridians.
For a moment, Rowan felt that he could cross the space between them before Lyle could draw his sword.
He could break the young man's wrist.
Perhaps even kill him.
The thought came too easily.
Rowan slowly relaxed his hand.
His strength had changed, but his mind had not yet learned how to control it.
A simple push might break bones.
A careless strike might end a life.
He needed control.
Bram stepped between them.
"That is enough."
Lyle looked away.
Bram turned to Rowan.
"Give us a moment while you prepare."
"There is nothing to prepare."
Rowan stepped outside and closed the door behind him.
He wore a simple grey robe. It was old but clean.
Lyle looked him up and down.
"You plan to meet the elders dressed like that?"
"It is the best robe I own."
Lyle gave a quiet laugh.
Bram ignored him.
"This way."
They began walking toward the Black Clan estate.
Duskmoor had grown louder since sunrise.
The muddy roads were crowded with traders, workers, and children. Smoke rose from cooking fires. The smell of bread mixed with the scent of wet wood and animal waste.
Rowan had walked these streets many times.
Today, they felt different.
He could hear conversations from across the road.
He could smell medicine inside closed shops.
He could feel weak traces of spiritual essence moving around the few cultivators in the crowd.
Most people did not notice anything unusual about him.
They saw an old man walking beside two clan members.
Those who had reached Body Strengthening looked at him for a little longer.
A few stopped walking.
They could not clearly sense his cultivation, but they could feel that he was no longer an ordinary mortal.
Near the end of the road, a middle-aged shopkeeper stared at Rowan.
"Old Rowan?"
Rowan nodded in greeting.
The man's eyes widened.
"You broke through?"
"It seems I did."
"At your age?"
Lyle clicked his tongue.
Rowan continued walking.
By the time they reached the Black Clan estate, several people had already begun whispering behind them.
News moved quickly in Duskmoor.
The Black Clan estate stood behind a stone wall near the northern edge of the ward.
It was not large compared to the powerful clans of the inner city, but it was one of the better places in Duskmoor.
The buildings were made from strong timber.
The roads inside the estate were paved with stone.
Young clan members trained in the open yard.
Some lifted heavy stones. Others practised punches, kicks, and sword movements.
Two guards stood at the main gate.
Both were at the middle stage of Body Strengthening.
One of them recognised Bram.
"You returned quickly."
Bram pointed toward Rowan.
"We need to update a clan record."
The guard looked at Rowan.
At first, his expression was bored.
Then he felt the faint spiritual pressure surrounding him.
The guard straightened.
"Essence Gathering?"
The second guard turned toward Rowan.
"Isn't that Old Rowan?"
Neither of them waited for an answer.
They simply stared.
Rowan walked through the gate without speaking.
The training yard became quieter as he passed.
One young man stopped in the middle of a sword movement.
A girl holding a stone lowered it to the ground.
Whispers spread through the yard.
"Is that Rowan Black?"
"I thought he was dying."
"He entered Essence Gathering."
"That old?"
"How?"
Rowan kept his eyes ahead.
He had spent ten years being ignored by these people.
Now, one small change in his visible cultivation had made him important.
They believed he had entered the first layer.
If they knew he was already at the ninth, their surprise would become something more dangerous.
Fear.
Greed.
Suspicion.
Perhaps all three.
The records hall stood beside the clan's main building.
Bram led them inside.
Rows of shelves covered the walls. Each shelf held wooden tablets and thick books containing clan records.
A young clerk sat behind a desk.
He stood when Bram entered.
"Senior Bram."
"Call Elder Garran," Bram said.
The clerk glanced at Rowan.
"What happened?"
"Rowan Black entered Essence Gathering."
The clerk stared at him.
Bram sighed.
"Call the elder."
The young man hurried through a door at the back of the hall.
Lyle leaned against the wall.
He had been silent since they entered the estate.
Rowan could feel the anger coming from him.
The young man had expected to gain a house.
Instead, Rowan's breakthrough had taken it away.
A few minutes later, the back door opened.
A tall man in a dark green robe entered the hall.
His hair was black, but there were lines around his eyes. He appeared to be around fifty years old.
Rowan recognised him.
Garran Black.
One of the clan elders.
He was a Peak Essence gathering realm cultivator.
The moment Garran entered, Rowan felt pressure fill the room.
It was not directed at anyone.
It was simply the natural pressure of a cultivator at the peak of Essence Gathering.
Garran looked at Bram.
"What happened?"
Bram pointed toward Rowan.
"He entered Essence Gathering this morning."
Garran's eyes settled on Rowan.
Grave Shroud reacted at once.
The large amount of essence hidden inside Rowan's meridians disappeared.
Only the weak aura of the first layer remained.
Garran's eyebrows rose.
"Essence Gathering, first layer."
Rowan bowed his head.
"Elder Garran."
Garran walked closer.
"You are Rowan Black?"
"Yes."
"How old are you?"
"One hundred."
"And you broke through today?"
"Yes."
Garran studied him in silence.
His gaze moved over Rowan's white hair, thin face, and wrinkled hands.
"How did it happen?"
Rowan had expected the question.
"I reached the peak of Body Strengthening recently. This morning, I felt something change inside my body."
"What changed?"
"My meridians opened. I sensed spiritual essence for the first time."
"And then?"
"I tried to draw it into my body."
Garran watched him closely.
"That was enough to break through?"
"Yes."
It was not a perfect explanation.
But Rowan did not have a better one.
A complicated story would create more questions.
Garran looked toward Bram.
"Bring the testing stone."
Bram walked to a locked cabinet.
He removed a round grey stone and placed it on the desk.
Rowan had seen similar stones before, though he had never used one.
They measured the amount of spiritual essence inside a cultivator.
Garran pointed toward it.
"Place your hand on the stone."
Rowan stepped forward.
He placed his palm against the cold surface.
"Send a small amount of essence into it," Garran said.
Rowan gathered a thin thread of essence.
He was careful.
There was enough power inside him to fill every part of the stone. Perhaps enough to break it.
Before the essence left his hand, Grave Shroud covered it.
The flow became weak.
Rowan sent it into the stone.
A pale ring appeared across the grey surface.
Then it stopped.
Bram leaned closer.
"First layer."
Garran watched the stone for several breaths.
There was no second ring.
No sign of the other eight layers hidden inside Rowan.
"Remove your hand," Garran said.
Rowan obeyed.
Grave Shroud could fool more than human senses.
It could fool cultivation tools as well.
That made the technique even more valuable than he had first believed.
Garran returned to his seat.
"It is real."
Lyle stepped away from the wall.
"Elder, how can someone break through at one hundred years old?"
Garran looked at him.
"Do you think cultivation follows rules without exception?"
"No, but—"
"Then do not speak as if you understand everything."
Lyle closed his mouth.
Garran looked back at Rowan.
"Late breakthroughs are rare, but they have happened before. Some cultivators spend decades at the edge of a realm. When the right moment comes, they cross it."
Rowan said nothing.
"Still," Garran continued, "your body is old. Entering Essence Gathering has extended your life, but it has not returned your youth."
"I understand."
"You should have close to one hundred years remaining."
Thirty, Rowan thought.
But he gave a small nod.
The Nine Graves Ascension Technique had taken seventy years from the realm's lifespan.
There was no reason to tell them.
Garran turned toward Bram.
"Update the record."
Bram opened a thick book.
He searched through several pages until he found Rowan's name.
The old record was short.
Rowan Black
Age: 100
Realm: Body Strengthening Late Stage
Status: Near the end of natural lifespan
Bram crossed out the last two lines.
He dipped his brush into ink and wrote beneath them.
Realm: Essence Gathering First Layer
Status: Active clan cultivator
Rowan looked at the words.
For ten years, the clan had treated him as a dying man.
Now, a few strokes of a brush had changed everything.
Bram closed the book.
"Your house will remain in your name."
Lyle's jaw tightened.
Garran noticed.
"The previous order is cancelled," he said. "Do you have a problem with that?"
Lyle lowered his head.
"No, Elder."
"Good."
Garran looked at Rowan.
"As an Essence Gathering cultivator, you have the right to receive clan support."
"What kind of support?"
"One low-grade essence stone every month," Bram answered. "You will also receive access to the first floor of the scripture hall."
Only one essence stone.
The amount was small, but Rowan had none.
It was better than nothing.
"You may choose one basic technique without payment," Garran added. "After that, you will need clan contribution points."
"How do I earn them?"
"By completing tasks for the clan."
"What kind of tasks?"
"Guarding shops. Protecting caravans. Gathering herbs. Hunting beasts. Patrolling clan lands."
Rowan considered the options.
He had the power of a ninth-layer cultivator, but he had no experience using it.
Taking a dangerous task would be foolish.
Garran seemed to understand what he was thinking.
"You should not accept a task yet."
Rowan looked at him.
"You only broke through this morning," Garran said. "Your control will be poor. Learn how to use spiritual essence first."
"That is what I intended."
Garran nodded.
"At least you are not as foolish as some young cultivators."
Lyle looked away.
Garran stood.
"The winter gathering begins this afternoon."
Bram had mentioned it before.
"Am I required to attend?" Rowan asked.
"You were not before."
"And now?"
"Now the clan head will want to see the man who entered Essence Gathering at one hundred years old."
Rowan was silent.
He did not like the idea of standing before the clan head.
An elder had failed to see through the Grave Shroud, but Rowan did not know how strong the clan head was.
"What realm is the clan head?" Rowan asked.
Garran's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Essence Sea."
The Second realm.
Rowan felt a trace of worry.
Grave Shroud had hidden him from Garran.
Would it also hide him from an Essence Sea cultivator?
The knowledge inside his mind gave him an answer.
According to the knowledge in his mind, even an Essence Sea cultivator should not be able to see through Grave Shroud.
But knowledge was not the same as proof.
Rowan would have to trust it.
"I will attend," he said.
Garran gave a small nod.
"Good."
He left through the back door.
Once he was gone, some of the pressure in the room disappeared.
Bram opened another cabinet and removed a small cloth pouch.
He placed it on the desk.
"Your essence stone for this month."
Rowan picked up the pouch.
There was a hard object inside.
Even through the cloth, he could feel spiritual essence coming from it.
It was far denser than the essence in the air around Duskmoor.
The Nine Graves Ascension Technique reacted at once.
The essence inside Rowan's meridians began to move toward his hand.
He stopped it before anyone noticed.
One low-grade essence stone might not be much to the clan.
To Rowan, it was the first real cultivation resource he had ever owned.
Bram handed him a small wooden token.
"This allows you to enter the first floor of the scripture hall."
Rowan accepted it.
"Where is the hall?"
Bram gave him directions.
Lyle pushed away from the wall.
"Are we finished?"
"Yes," Bram said.
Lyle walked toward the door.
Before leaving, he looked back at Rowan.
"This changes nothing."
Rowan raised an eyebrow.
"What does not change?"
"You are still an old man."
Rowan looked at him calmly.
"And you still do not own my house."
Lyle's face reddened.
Bram covered a cough.
Lyle turned and left.
Rowan placed the wooden token inside his robe.
He had no interest in fighting with Lyle.
But he would not allow the young man to treat him as if he were already dead.
Bram sat behind the desk again.
"You should be careful around him."
"Why?"
"Lyle's father is one of the clan stewards. He was the one who arranged for the house to pass to Lyle."
"That explains his confidence."
"He will not attack you inside the estate."
"And outside?"
Bram did not answer.
He did not need to.
Rowan nodded.
"I understand."
He left the records hall.
The training yard was still busy, but more people were watching him now.
News of his breakthrough had spread through the estate.
Rowan could hear the whispers.
Some believed he had used a rare medicine.
Others thought he had found a hidden treasure.
One young man claimed Rowan had lied about his cultivation for years.
No one guessed the truth.
Rowan crossed the yard and followed the stone path toward the scripture hall.
It stood near the back of the estate.
The building had two floors and no windows on the lower level. Two stone statues guarded the entrance.
An old woman sat beside the door.
Her eyes were closed.
A wooden cane rested across her knees.
Rowan stopped in front of her.
The woman opened one eye.
"Name."
"Rowan Black."
"Token."
He handed her the wooden token.
She touched it with one finger.
A faint light moved across its surface.
Her gaze shifted toward Rowan.
"Essence Gathering, first layer."
"Yes."
"You are old."
"I noticed."
The woman stared at him for a moment.
Then she laughed.
It was a quiet, dry sound.
"At least you still have some spirit."
She returned the token.
"You may enter the first floor. You may choose one copied technique without payment. Do not touch anything marked with a red seal."
"What happens if I do?"
"I break your hands."
Rowan could not tell if she was joking.
He entered without asking.
The scripture hall smelled of paper, dust, and old wood.
Shelves covered every wall.
Books and scrolls filled the room.
Rowan moved slowly between them.
There were cultivation methods.
Sword techniques.
Movement skills.
Body-strengthening arts.
Methods for using spiritual essence.
Most were basic, but Rowan did not need anything powerful yet.
He needed control.
His body had gone from peak Body Strengthening to the ninth layer of Essence Gathering in a single moment.
His strength had grown too quickly.
He could not walk across his own roof without breaking something.
A powerful attack technique would only make the problem worse.
Rowan stopped in front of a thin book.
Basic Essence Control
He removed it from the shelf.
The book explained how to move spiritual essence through the body, release it through the hands, and control the strength of an attack.
It was simple.
Perhaps too simple for most cultivators.
For Rowan, it was exactly what he needed.
He carried the book to the entrance.
The old woman opened her eyes.
"You chose already?"
"Yes."
She looked at the title.
"Basic Essence Control."
Rowan waited.
"You could choose a sword art," she said. "Or a movement technique."
"I cannot control the strength I already have."
The woman looked at him more carefully.
"That is a better answer than I expected."
She placed one finger against the cover.
A small mark appeared on it.
"You may keep this copy. Do not sell it. Do not give it to anyone outside the clan."
"I understand."
Rowan placed the book inside his robe.
As he turned to leave, the woman spoke again.
"Old man."
Rowan looked back.
"Breaking through at your age will draw attention."
Her eyes became sharp.
"Others will want to know what you found."
Rowan held her gaze.
The woman smiled.
He left the scripture hall.
The winter gathering would begin in a few hours.
The clan head would be there.
So would the elders, stewards, and the most talented members of the younger generation.
Rowan placed one hand over the book hidden inside his robe.
His true cultivation remained buried beneath the Grave Shroud.
To the Black Clan, he was an old man who had somehow entered the first layer of Essence Gathering.
That alone had already changed how they treated him.
Rowan wondered what would happen when someone decided that his breakthrough could not have come from luck.