"So you have the nerve to show your face, around me?" Fal asked Silva scornfully as his nephew walked through the open door and stepped into the training hall.
Silva only smiled and bowed his head, "Good morning to you as well, Uncle Fal."
Fal let out a disappointed grunt, "You're no fun, if only you'd regained some of your youthful sensibilities along with your physique."
"Forgive me for not sharing your sentiment," Silva replied coyly making Fal smirk, "Good it seems that you've recovered well, normally it takes a few days after breaking through to fully consolidate one's gains but it seems you are an exception in that regard as well."
"Then we can begin the next phase of my training," Silva stated with a determined air making Fal grin, "Very well then."
Fal stretched his hand out to the side and from his storage ring summoned a massive wooden pole with a weighted stand affixed to the bottom. After a moment, the monolith was seized by the earth and dropped to the floor with a reverberating thud, testifying to its mass.
Taking a close look Silva realized that the wooden pole was actually a massive stalk of bamboo, thicker than most trees with a dark grey coloration and an almost metallic sheen.
"What material is this?" Silva asked as walked over and laid his hand on the pole only to find it cold to the touch and as hard as any refined metal.
"This is a stalk of Ironbanded bamboo," Fal answered, "A spiritual herb that slowly incorporates the metals of the earth into its body over the course of thousands of years. This particular herb is nearly five thousand years old and is stronger than most mortal metals. Meaning you won't have to worry about breaking it as you progress through the Bone Tempering stage."
"So my bones will be shattered instead," Silva replied ruefully, making Fal chuckle, "I certainly don't envy you in the slightest."
The bone tempering stage was a bottle neck that many didn't pass, it was significantly more difficult to progress, as it required the willpower and determination to endure a great deal of pain.
Despite his immense strength, if Silva attempted to punch through stone, he would only end up hurting himself. While his muscles could generate force, his bones were still that of a mortal, meaning that the impact generated was more likely to shatter his own body rather than whatever he was striking.
The Bone Tempering stage solved this issue in the same way as the first stage, the combination of physical stress and cultivation would slowly strengthen the body. However the key difference lay in the fact that muscles were designed to be stressed and repaired, bones largely were not.
The only way to reliably progress through the second stage was by striking a hardened target, introducing miniature stress fractures slowly over time and letting the bone heal over and harden. The process was infamously tedious and torturous often taking several years of constant self-inflicted wounds. There was also the very real risk of overestimating one's strength and underestimating the fortitude of their bones, resulting in a true fracture or complete break that would take years to heal without the assistance of a healer or pills the prices of which were often beyond the scope for all but the elite.
Even knowing all of this Silva wasn't daunted in the slightest as he faced the striking totem as if it were a real opponent and settled into a martial stance.
"Whenever you feel ready to begin," Fal advised as he stepped aside, "And try not to shatter your arm on the first day."
Silva's only acknowledgement was the slight dip of his head as his eyes bore a hole into the totem while Qi started to funnel into his body. There was a slight pause but then without warning Silva struck, delivering a punch that an observant eye would recognize from the first move of the kata.
Fal's eyes widened a bit as he heard the whoosh of air from Silva's punch but the following bang like the strike of a gong as Silva's fist connected with the totem drowned out all other sound.
The striking totem reverberated and vibrated like a bell but Silva didn't stop as he shifted his feet letting him push off the ground and deliver a high kick connecting with his shin. Again the totem rang out echoing through the training hall.
Snapping his foot down Silva planted it beside the totem giving him the power to drive forward his lagging fist.
Training in the kata during the first stage was more than just a convenience, it taught the necessary technique to avoid self harm when practicing martial arts, and now that Silva was proficient he could finally begin applying his ingrained knowledge.
Like learning a language, Silva had memorized the characters and their meaning now he was beginning to form sentences. Though Silva doubted that any other language would cause him as much pain as he was experiencing now.
Striking the totem left Silva's shin and hand aching as if someone had taken a hammer to his body. But still Silva didn't stop keeping a steady flow of punches kicks, raining them across the totem's length and failing to leave the faintest mark.
Though that changed when Silva pulled his fist away and revealed a dark red smudge. That wouldn't have been enough to make Silva pause, it was only expected that he would end up with bloodied knuckles but what he felt next made Silva stall.
An intense warmth suddenly suffused around Silva's split knuckle as if he had dipped the digit into a mineral hot spring. The sensation only lasted for a second before vanishing but with it some of the local pain had gone as well, and as Silva scanned the back of his hand he realized that the split in his skin was no longer there.
"What's wrong, fracture a finger already?" Fal asked half jokingly, though he thoroughly considered it to be a possibility with the amount of Silva had been unleashing on the totem.
Instead of answering, his uncle Silva turned his attention back to the totem and struck out with his fist. Though this time the outline of Silva's arm blurred as it shot forward and when his fist met the totem, a small fountain of blood erupted into the air.
"Silva!" Fal shouted out in panic and dashed forward, arriving at Silva's side in the blink of an eye, "Don't tell me you're eager to become crippled again!"
Fal grabbed Silva's outstretched hand that continued to steadily drip blood onto the floor as he stood there unmoving. Muttering a curse under his breath, Fal inspected his Silva's hand and frowned at the bloodied and crooked fingers still clenched together.
It wasn't the first time he had seen such an injury, it was common for overzealous youths who had gotten a taste of power from breaking through and believed themselves to be invincible. Fal hadn't expected it from Silva, but he had seen men who had lived for hundreds of years and fallen victim to similar folly.
Fal was about ready to thoroughly chastise his nephew but before he could Fal felt a faint but potent ripple of energy pass through Silva's hand that grew warm to the touch. At the same time, Silva's fingers shifted, the bones aligning themselves and fusing back together as Silva's skin knit itself back together, leaving behind almost no discernible mark.
'That energy,' Fal should have been used to reveal some mind-shattering ability, but this was something else. What Silva had done should have been impossible, but there was no doubt in Fal's mind that he could never mistake the soothing warmth of a Spiritual Healer.
They were exceedingly rare cultivators with the ability to heal themselves and others with their Qi, an ability that should have only been obtainable in the Third Realm. How Silva managed to gain such an ability while still not being able to control his Qi was beyond Fal's scope of knowledge.
Oblivious to his uncle's plight, Silva's eyes were closed as he focused on his body, the sensation of his bones fusing back together and his skin mending itself, undergoing months of healing as his hand was bathed in a soothing energy that steadily poured out from his spiritual roots.
The best way Silva could describe it was a far less intense version of the vitality-filled sap, but feeling it wasn't enough Silva needed to understand what was happening on a much deeper level. But before he could get even a glimpse his hand was healed and the energy stopped flowing.
Opening his eyes Silva glanced at his uncle who stared back at him, for a moment neither moved before a silent understanding was established and Fal took a step back letting go of Silva's hand.
Silva dipped his head in thanks and pulled back his fist, only to strike the totem with his other hand, once more soaking the hardened bamboo with his blood.