The training grounds of the Rin Clan simmered beneath the scorching morning sun.
The sound of feet pounding against the sand, the shouts of instructors, and the light insults exchanged between the youths echoed among the surrounding trees, filling the air with a tension so sharp it could almost be seen.
Today… was no ordinary day.
It was the Extended Family Training, a day eagerly awaited by the clan's children—and quietly feared by the weak.
The rule was strict and simple:
Third generation versus third generation, to determine the strongest and train the future elite.
Instructor Haud Rin—tall, broad‑shouldered, with eyes sharp as blades—stood watching the rows with a gaze that missed nothing.
He held a long staff, striking it against the ground every now and then, as if reminding everyone that any mistake here… was painfully costly.
A group of cousins burst into laughter, their leader, Luc Rin, son of one of the branch elders, standing at the front with a crooked grin, eyeing Il with clear disdain.
Haud barked loudly:
" You know the rules!
Physical exercises first… then one‑on‑one combat!"
Everyone started moving—running, punching, pushing each other—and it was clear to anyone watching that Il was no longer the weak child everyone once knew.
His body had become firmer, his muscles fuller, his movements steady, his breathing controlled.
All of that… thanks to Asher's hellish training.
Still, the mockery didn't stop:
"Il, try not to faint this time!"
"Careful… he might collapse before we even start fighting!"
"Well, at least he looks like a cultivator now, instead of a walking corpse…"
Il thought irritably:
(These bastards… should I just beat them all up today?)
Asher answered calmly inside his mind:
(Don't worry… your chance will come soon.)
Then added suddenly:
(By the way… I'm bored. I'll fight too.)
Il hesitated:
(Huh… what? You'll do what?)
---
When the physical part ended, Haud stood in the center of the arena, his voice booming:
"Now… the duels! Whoever wins rises in the family ranking and earns a chance to enter special training!"
That sentence alone silenced all the murmurs. Tension spread across the arena.
He explained the rules:
"I'll call a name—he enters the arena and keeps fighting until he loses.
You win by knocking your opponent out of the ring, knocking them unconscious, or forcing them to surrender."
Then he shouted:
"Il Rin! Step forward."
Il's heart trembled for a moment, but he stepped forward steadily.
He knew being chosen first was no coincidence… it was intentional.
"Your first opponent… Luc Rin."
Luc's smile widened, as if fate had handed him a free gift.
Il stood in the middle of the sandy ring and whispered inside:
(Asher… what do we do?
Have you… ever fought before?)
Asher answered with a calm, controlled voice, devoid of emotion:
(No… but he's just a fifteen‑year‑old kid.)
Il froze.
(What?)
Asher continued slowly, as if giving a lesson:
(I know how to think… how to read movement… and how to drop a human being. The body will handle the rest.)
(Do you want me to back off?)
(When the instructor gives the signal… let me take over.)
---
Haud shouted:
"Begin!"
Suddenly, everything inside Il grew quiet, as if the world around him slowed for a moment.
Something unseen shifted.
The body settled into a neutral stance… but one unfamiliar to anyone watching.
Il's expressions turned colder, his eyes losing their youthful anxiety.
No one noticed the change—except Luc, whose eyes widened for a heartbeat,
and Instructor Haud, whose grip tightened silently around his staff.
Luc sneered:
"Ready to get crushed?"
But his voice sounded strangely weak.
Asher, through Il's body, didn't respond.
He only raised his head slightly and focused.
Inside Il's mind, Asher began explaining spiritual‑energy combat:
"In this stage, a cultivator can coat his body with spiritual energy to enhance offense and defense, since his main meridians aren't open yet.
But there are small secondary meridians… they can carry energy. I created a technique to make use of them. Hard? Yes… but effective."
---
Luc charged first—exactly as Asher predicted.
But he hit nothing but air,
because Asher had stepped sideways with a tiny movement barely visible.
Then Asher turned half a step, placed his palm lightly on Luc's elbow, and pushed gently.
Just a small nudge—yet it dropped Luc to one knee.
Murmurs of confusion rose among the crowd.
No one understood how it happened.
Asher—Il's body—remained cold.
No smile, no pride… nothing.
Luc shouted furiously:
"Are you mocking me?!"
He leapt forward with a fast punch, but Asher didn't retreat.
He raised his arm, blocked the punch, bent slightly, and delivered a light kick beneath Luc's ribs.
Not strong enough to break them, but painfully precise—far too skilled for a fifteen‑year‑old.
Luc stumbled back gasping, while Asher simply stood there, silently waiting for him to rise.
Luc got up, hand on his ribs, eyes burning with rage:
"You bastard! I'll kill you!" he yelled as he wrapped his body in spiritual energy and rushed again.
Asher wrapped his body in energy as well, dodged the punches with ease, then slipped behind Luc and directed energy into his right leg.
Luc barely turned before he saw a foot sinking into his abdomen.
BOOOM
Luc flew out of the ring.
The instructor shouted:
"The winner is… Il Rin!"
"Well, the next fight is yours, Il. I'll take over after that—let's finish this childish game," Asher said inside, standing in the ring while scratching Il's violet hair.
"Didn't you say we should stay low‑profile?" Il asked, confused after watching Asher toy with Luc like a small child.
"And I did just that. I could've killed him in a single move. I said we should hide our strength—not look like prey anyone can bully."
Asher's voice remained cold as he recalled something unpleasant.
"Oh, and don't forget: control your strength. You've already finished refining your bones—they're just kids to you now."
Then Asher stepped back and returned control to Il.
A faint breath shifted in Il's body…
and his childish features returned to normal.
A dim flicker in his eyes marked Asher's withdrawal.
Il asked nervously:
"You said… kill him? You're joking, right?"
"I don't joke. When you wrap your body in spiritual energy, use only thirty percent. Coat your body with it so you don't blow someone's head off. Clear?"
"Y‑yes… understood," Il swallowed hard.
Instructor Haud stared at him for a long moment… then said slowly:
"Very well… Shala, you're next."
As for Luc, he remained frozen, unable to comprehend how he had been defeated so effortlessly.
Haud raised his hand, signaling the start of the next match:
"Alright… prepare yourselves."