The pristine worldly energy of the Jia Nan Academy, combined with his relentless physical conditioning, had pushed his foundation to its absolute breaking point. His meridians were throbbing, practically overflowing with Dou Qi. His next breakthrough was imminent.
Yoriichi initiated his Total Concentration Breathing: Constant. He drew a massive, pressurized breath of air into his lungs, pushing oxygen deep into his bloodstream to hyper-accelerate his cellular metabolism.
Hssshhh...
The temperature in the meditation room began to rise steadily. He turned his internal vision toward his lower abdomen, where the foundation of his cultivation—the Dou Qi Cyclone—resided.
Currently, it was of a one-star Dou Zhe rank. Then the worldly energy began to violently compress.
Minutes turned into hours.
The moon crawled across the night sky, casting shifting shadows through the bamboo blinds.
Yoriichi sat like an immovable statue, his breathing rhythmic, powerful, and unyielding.
The ambient Dou Qi in the courtyard swirled into a visible, localized funnel, pouring directly through the roof and into the crown of his head. Slowly, patiently, he guided the chaotic energy. He didn't rush. He made ensure not a single meridian pathway was damaged by the pressure.
As the first, faint rays of dawn began to paint the horizon in streaks of violet and gold, the internal pressure reached its absolute zenith.
Deep within his lower abdomen, the violently spinning cyclone abruptly contracted.
BOOM!
A muffled, concussive sound echoed within his body. The Cyclone has become larger, denser, and more refined comparatively.
Yoriichi's crimson eyes snapped open. He exhaled a long, heavy breath of searing white steam. He checked his internal state and felt a profound, satisfying surge of power course through his limbs.
The sheer volume of Dou Qi he could now store had effectively doubled.
"Two-star Dou Zhe," Yoriichi murmured into the quiet room. He let out a soft sigh of relief. He had safely managed the breakthrough without any destabilization.
Not only could he store more Dou Qi, but the density of the energy meant he could execute his techniques with vastly greater efficiency and physical kinetic force compared to yesterday.
However, Yoriichi quickly clamped down on his satisfaction. It was only a minor rank improvement.
To a grandmaster who had once slain the progenitor of demons, a two-star Dou Zhe was still merely a drop in the ocean.
There was infinitely more work to be done. He stood up, shedding his night robes, and stepped out into the crisp, cool morning air of the rock garden.
It was time to temper his newly acquired strength. He dropped into a solid horse stance and began with the physical fundamentals. He threw a straight, orthodox punch into the empty air, channeling his denser Dou Qi into his knuckles.
BANG!
The sheer speed and physical force of the strike compressed the air, creating a sharp, echoing sonic boom that rippled across the courtyard.
He transitioned seamlessly into his unarmed combat routines, his fists moving like heavy iron hammers, utilizing the principles of the Iron Fist to generate devastating, explosive kinetic shockwaves.
Next, he practiced the Shadowless Sun movement technique.
To the naked eye, Yoriichi simply ceased to exist. He blurred into a series of fast afterimages, his feet barely touching the gravel as he darted around the cherry blossom tree, across the pond, and over the high walls, his movements as silent and untraceable as a ghost in the daylight.
Finally, he drew his Katana.
For the next hour, the courtyard was a blur of crimson fire and flashing steel. He repeatedly drilled the First Form: Dance, meticulously observing the flow of his Dou Qi, tweaking the angle of his wrists by mere millimeters to minimize energy bleed and maximize the cutting pressure of the solar flames.
By the time the academy's morning bell tolled, Yoriichi was covered in a light sheen of sweat, his body perfectly warmed up and humming with lethal precision.
He washed, dressed in a fresh azure academy uniform, and began the walk toward the Classroom Halls for the morning session.
Just as in the night market, his walk to class was accompanied by a parting wave of students. The rumors of his effortless dismantling of Lie's group had spread through the freshmen dormitories overnight.
Coupled with the striking, crimson hue bleeding into his dark hair, the C-rank freshman was rapidly acquiring the mythical, terrifying aura of a hidden expert.
Yoriichi remained as calm and stoic as ever, completely ignoring the awestruck stares and hushed whispers. He entered his designated classroom and took his seat at the back.
Several of his classmates, who had previously ignored him, visibly flinched and straightened their postures the moment he walked in. The instructor arrived shortly after, his eyes immediately locking onto Yoriichi's new hair color.
The instructor noted the denser Dou Qi radiating from the youth and silently checked a box on his mental evaluation sheet.
The theoretical classes were just as painfully slow and rudimentary as the previous day.
Yoriichi sat perfectly still, enduring the redundant lectures on basic meridian anatomy with the patience of a saint.
When the afternoon session transitioned to the combat arena, the results were entirely predictable.Yoriichi's name was called.
A boastful, two-star Dou Zhe from a prominent empire stepped into the ring, determined to prove the rumors false.
Yoriichi dodged three frantic strikes with millimeter precision, stepped inside the boy's guard, and delivered a gentle, open-palm strike to the boy's chest.
The condensed, two-star Dou Qi behind the palm strike completely shattered the boy's equilibrium, sending him sliding ten feet across the stone ring to land on his back, gasping for air. He had won in exactly five seconds.
Without waiting for the instructor's declaration, Yoriichi bowed politely, turned, and left the arena. He returned, finding Xiao Yu already waiting for him near the rock garden, her whip coiled neatly at her hip.The moment she saw him, her jaw dropped slightly.
"Ning'er... your hair," Xiao Yu pointed, blinking in surprise. The noon sun illuminated the deep, radiant crimson that had almost completely overtaken the black strands.
"It is a physical side effect of my specific breathing style," Yoriichi explained smoothly, offering the same flawless excuse he had given Xiao Mei. "The internal heat alters the cellular pigmentation. It is harmless."
Xiao Yu walked around him in a slow circle, inspecting the color. Instead of being worried, a bright, competitive gleam entered her eyes.
"Actually... it makes you look incredibly cool," Xiao Yu admitted, crossing her arms approvingly. She then looked down at her own pale blue Dou Qi, an excited, eager smile breaking across her face.
"Wait! If I master the Water Breathing style, will my hair also change color? Will it turn a deep, ocean blue? That would be so cool! The girls would be so jealous!"
Yoriichi stared at her, his stoic expression perfectly unmoving, though the right corner of his mouth gave a violent, barely perceptible twitch.
To desire supreme martial arts merely for the sake of a cosmetic hair dye was a level of youthful vanity his ancient, pragmatic soul simply could not compute.
"Your whip may turn blue with compressed kinetic force," Yoriichi replied, his voice completely deadpan.
"Your hair, however, will likely just become hopelessly tangled from the sweat."Xiao Yu pouted, punching him lightly on the shoulder.
"You have absolutely no sense of style, old man."Yoriichi simply sighed, shaking his head.
"Come. Let us eat lunch. We have a donzens repetitions of the Water Surface Slash to complete before sundown." They sat on the wooden patio, sharing a quick, hearty meal, before stepping out into the clearing.
The rhythmic, cracking sound of the whip soon echoed through the sector, accompanied by Yoriichi's strict, uncompromising corrections.
And so, the routine was established.
Morning classes of redundant theory. Afternoon arena spars that ended in less than ten seconds. Evening training sessions under the moonlight, where Yoriichi patiently forging his sister into a lethal weapon before turning his attention to his own fiery blade.
The days slowly bled into weeks, passing in a blur of sweat, discipline, and the relentless, unyielding pursuit of absolute strength.