Arthur nodded with rare conviction, his gaze meeting Grandmaster Kim's with clarity.
"I will, Grandpa. I will become stronger."
For the first time since he'd entered this world, Arthur felt a reason take root deep within him—not survival, not fear—but a burning curiosity. That ancient phenomenon… it had rewritten the very fabric of the world. He wants to uncover its truth, but to do that, he needs power. Real power.
Grandmaster Kim's smile deepened, faint and proud. "Good. You have the will. Now, you just need the path."
With a slow, practiced movement, he pushed himself up from the chair. His every gesture carried weight, like the coiling of a dormant beast. "Come. Let's test what kind of fire flows in your blood."
Arthur followed him into the training courtyard, where the moonlight cast a silver sheen across the stone tiles. The night was quiet—eerily so. Only the rustling of wind against the trees marked the rhythm of time.
"You're at the third stage of Body Tempering Realm—Bone Tempering, right?" the old man asked, folding his arms behind his back. "Show me your breathing technique and martial arts form."
"Okay, Grandpa." Arthur sat cross-legged on the stone floor and closed his eyes, his expression calm.
With a steady exhale, he began to perform the Heavenroot Vital Breathing Technique.
His breathing deepened, synchronizing with a rhythm that seemed to echo the turn of seasons themselves.
Spring Inhale. He drew in a long breath through his nose. The air shimmered faintly around him, like early morning dew. His lower dantian pulsed faintly as vitality surged inward from the earth.
Summer Flame Hold. His chest rose and locked. A subtle red hue flickered at his core, and his internal energy ignited like kindling catching fire—refining the absorbed qi into a denser, purer form.
Autumn Exhale. He released his breath through his mouth in a smooth, controlled stream. A haze-like mist escaped his lips, invisible to most, carrying away inner impurities.
Winter Rest. Arthur remained still for a heartbeat, anchoring the refined energy into his meridians and soul network. A quiet stillness fell upon him, like a forest frozen under snow.
As the cycle repeated, a faint, natural aura began to emanate from his body. The surrounding flora stilled, and a squirrel in a nearby tree chattered nervously before vanishing into the leaves. The atmosphere grew calmer, yet charged—like standing before a slumbering storm.
After a few minutes, Arthur slowly opened his eyes and stood up, looking excited.
"How was it, Grandpa?" he asked, a hopeful grin on his face, eager for praise.
Grandmaster Kim stared at him with narrowed eyes. His usual teasing expression was gone—replaced by something harder, sharper.
"Where did you learn that technique?" he asked, his voice low and serious.
Arthur froze.
"Oh sh**", he thought. How do I explain this to him? How did A orphanage posses a purple-ranked breathing method…? No way. I can't tell him about the system…
He scratched his head, feigning embarrassment. "Uh… Grandpa, it's my family breathing technique. It was the only thing left after my home was destroyed in the monster horde…"
He hoped the lie sounded convincing.
The old man studied him for a long moment. Then he sighed softly, the tension in his shoulders loosening just a little.
"Your family must've been exceptional to pass down a purple-ranked breathing technique. This one… this one is remarkable. Even in the capital, Ember City, you wouldn't find many like it."
Arthur nodded, trying not to look too relieved.
"But you…" Grandmaster Kim's gaze softened slightly. "You've inherited more than just a technique. Let's see how you wield it. Show me your martial arts form."
Arthur nodded and stepped forward, the qi in his veins still pulsing in harmony with the natural rhythm of his breath. The calm from his Heavenroot Vital Breathing lingered like a subtle hum in his bones.
He took a basic stance and unsheathed his beast fang sword—its rough edge gleaming faintly in the moonlight. With practiced familiarity, he began executing the sword techniques he had honed over the past month.
Slash.
Thrust.
Parry.
Riposte.
Each movement was clean but rudimentary, driven by repetition more than refinement. The forms were functional, but lacked the grace or precision of true martial mastery.
"Stop." Grandmaster Kim's voice cut through the courtyard like a whip crack.
Arthur froze mid-motion.
"Is that all?" Kim asked, brows furrowed in disappointment. "Is this the only sword technique you know. They are just basic."
Arthur nodded. "Yes, Grandpa. What's wrong with it? I thought it was important to build a foundation first…"
Kim let out a heavy sigh. "A foundation is important, yes—but only if you build it right. Martial arts aren't just movements—they're the means by which you manifest your cultivation. You could have oceans of qi, but if you can't direct it in battle, then what use is it?"
Arthur scratched the back of his neck. "That's… oddly familiar," he muttered under his breath. The system told me the same thing.
"But it's too early to start you on anything advanced," Kim continued. "Your qi control is too raw, too unrefined. And high-tier techniques require precision and a reservoir of energy you don't yet have. If I gave you one now, you'd burn your life energy out before you could even finish the first form."
He turned his gaze toward the towering structure at the center of the estate. Its roof seemed to pierce the clouds, and from within, a slow, thunderous pulse of energy echoed—deep and distant, like a heartbeat buried beneath mountains.
"Hmph. Looks like old Seok Hung's still in seclusion. His breakthrough's taking longer than expected."
A grin slowly spread across his face.
"Which means I've got time. Time to break all your bad habits, fix that stiff posture, and drag some real technique out of you."
Arthur felt a chill crawl up his spine.
The look in Grandmaster Kim's eyes wasn't just one of a teacher eager to train—it was the look of a sadist about to enjoy a challenge.
"W-What kind of training are we talking about…?" Arthur asked, a wary smile tugging at his lips.
"Oh, don't worry," Kim said, patting his shoulder with just a little too much force. "You'll come out stronger."
He leaned in, his voice low.
"If you survive."
Arthur gulped. What have I gotten myself into…?
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