A Morning in Wushan Town

Wushan Town was an ordinary settlement in the Kingdom of Fenlai, west of the Mountain Range of Magical Beasts—the greatest mountain range on the Yulan Continent.

The sun had only just risen. A morning chill lingered over Wushan Town, but nearly all its residents had already begun their work. Even children of six or seven were getting up to take part in the customary morning training.

On an open field east of town, the warm morning sunlight filtered through the trees, scattering mottled patches of light across the ground.

Roughly one to two hundred children stood there, divided into three groups and arranged in rows. The children in the northernmost group were around six to eight years old; those in the middle were about nine to twelve; and the southern group consisted of teenagers from thirteen to sixteen.

Three powerfully built middle-aged men stood before them, all wearing sleeveless shirts and rough cloth trousers.

“If you want to become a great warrior, you must train hard from childhood.”

The leading man spoke coldly, his hands clasped behind his back and his head held high. His sharp gaze swept over the northern group. The children of six or seven pressed their lips together and stared at him with dark, wide eyes, not daring to make a sound.

The man's name was Hillman. He was captain of the guards for the Baruch Clan, which owned Wushan Town.

“You are commoners. You cannot cultivate powerful Battle Qi Manuals like the great nobles. If you want to rise in the world, if you do not want others to look down on you in the future, then you must train by the oldest, simplest, most basic methods. Temper your bodies and build your strength. Do you understand?”

Hillman's gaze swept across the children.

“We understand!” the children shouted together.

“Good.” Hillman nodded, his expression still stern. Most of the six- and seven-year-olds looked confused, but the older boys had resolute eyes. They understood what he meant.

Across the Yulan Continent, nearly every boy began training hard from childhood. Anyone who failed to train diligently would be looked down upon when he grew up. A man's standing rested on strength and money. A man without strength would be despised even by women.

They wanted to make their parents proud, win the admiration of girls, and live in comfort someday.

Then they had to become great warriors.

They were commoners. They could not cultivate those precious Battle Qi Manuals. Their only path was to train their bodies and build their strength from childhood—to work harder and devote more effort than the nobles did.

“In the morning, when the sun rises and all things are full of life, we can best absorb the essence of heaven and earth and improve our physical potential. The usual posture: feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, hands at the waist. Take the Breath-Gathering Stance. When you do it, remember: focus your attention, keep your heart calm, and breathe naturally.”

The Breath-Gathering Stance was a simple but highly effective way to strengthen the body, a practice accumulated through countless generations of experience.

At once, the one or two hundred children assumed the required posture.

“Remember. Focus your attention, keep your heart calm, and breathe naturally.” Hillman walked through the children as he spoke in the same cold voice.

The older teenagers in the southern group were clearly doing well. Their focus was steady, their breathing natural, and every one of them had achieved the posture's three essentials: deep, level, and stable.

The six- and seven-year-olds in the north were another matter. Their knees bent at different angles, their legs were loose and weak, and they were nowhere near steady.

Hillman turned to the other two middle-aged men. “You take the southern and middle groups. I'll handle the little ones.”

“Yes, Captain.”

The two men immediately moved to inspect the teenagers in the middle and southern groups, occasionally kicking at a boy's leg to see whether his stance was truly stable.

Hillman headed for the six- and seven-year-olds. They tensed at once.

“Oh no. The great demon is here,” whispered a big-eyed blond child named Hadley.

Hillman stepped into the middle of the children. His face remained stern, but he sighed to himself. These children were far too young, physically and mentally, and he could not demand too much of them. Still, it was best to build the habit of training early. The more seriously they trained as children, the greater their chance of surviving a battlefield would be.

When teaching children, the best method was to guide and attract them. Forcing them would only backfire.

“Stand properly.” Hillman snorted.

The children immediately straightened their chests and looked ahead.

A faint smile touched Hillman's lips. He stepped to the front and pulled off his shirt. The lines of his muscles made the little children stare wide-eyed; even the youths in the middle and southern groups looked on with envy.

Besides those nearly perfect muscles, Hillman's bare upper body was covered with knife scars and sword scars—dozens of scars in all. Every child stared at them with shining eyes.

Knife scars and sword scars were a man's medals.

They all admired Hillman. He was a great sixth-rank warrior, a man tempered through life and death. He would have been an impressive figure even in a major city. In Wushan Town, everyone respected him.

Hillman saw the children's eager eyes and smiled to himself. He wanted them to feel admiration and desire. That would make them train harder and give them more motivation.

One more push, Hillman thought.

He walked to an enormous stone weight that must have weighed roughly 330 to 440 pounds.

Grasping it with one hand, Hillman began to swing it with ease. In his hand, the massive stone weight seemed no heavier than wood. The children gaped.

“Too light. Rory, when training is over, make some larger stone weights.”

Hillman casually flung it away. It flew more than ten meters before crashing down beside a large tree, making the ground tremble. Then he walked toward a pile of rocks.

“Hah!”

Hillman inhaled. Muscles stood out all over his body as he punched a large bluish stone. His fist tore through the air with a piercing whistle, and the children widened their eyes as it slammed solidly into the rock.

Boom!

The heavy, muffled impact made every child's heart jump.

That was solid bluestone.

The rock shuddered several times. Seven or eight cracks appeared across its surface before it finally shattered into pieces. Hillman's fist was completely uninjured.

“The captain is as formidable as ever,” Rory said with a smile as he walked over.

The other middle-aged man, Roger, joined them. When the children practiced the Breath-Gathering Stance, the three instructors usually had time for a relaxed chat, so long as they kept an eye out for anyone slacking off.

Hillman smiled and shook his head. “No. Back when I was in the army, I trained desperately every day and fought bloody battles on the battlefield. Now I only loosen my muscles at most. I don't have the same fire I did then.”

All the children looked at Hillman with admiration.

He had smashed a huge stone with one punch. He had swung a stone weight of roughly 330 to 440 pounds with effortless ease. What kind of strength was that?

Hillman turned and saw their expressions. He was pleased with their reaction.

“Remember this. Even without Battle Qi, it is theoretically possible to become a sixth-rank warrior through physical training alone. A sixth-rank warrior can easily become a mid-ranking officer after joining the army and can readily gain access to the army's Battle Qi cultivation methods. Even if you cannot become a sixth-rank warrior, becoming an ordinary first-rank warrior is enough to qualify you for the army. Remember: any man who cannot even reach the first rank is no man at all.”

Hillman's expression was severe.

“A man should hold his head high, face every challenge, and fear nothing!”

The six- and seven-year-olds smiled despite themselves, trying not to laugh. It was one of Hillman's favorite sayings, one he repeated often while teaching them.

“Stand steady. Look at the older brothers in the south and see how they stand,” Hillman barked.

The children tried even harder to steady themselves.

Before long, they began to sway. Their legs ached fiercely, but they gritted their teeth and held on. Soon they could endure no longer, and the children collapsed onto the ground.

Hillman's face remained stern, though he nodded to himself. He was quite satisfied with how these six- and seven-year-olds had performed.

Not long afterward, some of the ten-year-olds in the middle group also gave out and sat down.

“Hold on for as long as you can. I won't force you, but if you end up inferior to others in the future, you will have no one to blame but yourselves,” Hillman said coldly.

“Hm?” Rory suddenly stared at the northern group.

Many of the ten-year-olds from the middle group had already collapsed, yet one six-year-old still stood in the northern group.

“This is Linley's first day of training, isn't it? He's incredible!” Rory said in surprise.

Roger and Hillman noticed as well. Only a brown-haired boy remained standing in the northern group. His lips were pressed tight, his gaze fixed firmly ahead, and his clenched fists had gone white at the knuckles.

Hillman’s stern expression eased for an instant.

Good boy, Hillman thought. At only six, he could match children around ten in the Breath-Gathering Stance. It was enough to reveal his talent.

Linley—full name Linley Baruch—was the eldest son of the Baruch Clan, owner of all Wushan Town. The Baruch Clan was ancient and had once been prosperous. But after thousands of years, only three members remained: its patriarch, Hogg Baruch, and his two sons. Linley Baruch, the elder son, was only six. His younger brother, Wharton Baruch, was two. Their mother had died after giving birth to Wharton, while Linley's grandfather had lost his life in war.

Linley's legs trembled. No matter how resolute he was, his muscles had reached their limit and would no longer obey him. At last, he collapsed onto the ground.

“Linley, how do you feel?” Hillman asked as he walked over with a smile.

Linley grinned, showing his small canine teeth. “I'm fine, Uncle Hillman.”

Hillman, captain of the Baruch Clan guards, had watched Linley grow up. The two were naturally close.

“Well done. That's how a man should be.” Hillman rubbed Linley's head, leaving his hair as disordered as straw.

“Heh.” Linley grinned. Hillman's praise filled him with happiness.

…

After resting for a while, they began training again. The younger children had a much lighter regimen, while the teenagers' training was brutal.

The youths and children placed their heads and feet on separate flat stones, leaving their entire bodies suspended as they supported themselves solely with the strength of their waists.

“The waist and hips—this triangular region.” Hillman gestured toward his lower abdomen. “It is the center of the whole body. Whether for speed or strength, everything depends on this core triangular region. It is extremely important.”

As he spoke, Hillman continued walking through the groups and carefully checked whether every child's form was correct.

“Raise yourselves. Don't let your waists sag!” he shouted.

Several youths immediately tried to lift their waists higher. It was Linley's first time doing this exercise. His head and feet rested on two separate flat stones, but his waist already burned and ached.

Hold on. Hold on. I'm the best, Linley encouraged himself.

Linley had always been remarkably healthy. He had rarely been ill, and with his determination, his outstanding performance was not surprising.

Thud!

The first child fell.

The stones supporting their heads and feet were only about twenty centimeters high, so a fall would not hurt a child. The alchemists of the Yulan Continent had established the units of length: one meter equaled ten decimeters, one hundred centimeters, or one thousand millimeters.

Thud! Thud!

As time passed, more and more children could no longer hold on.

Linley clenched his teeth. He could clearly feel that his waist had ached past its limit and was nearly numb. My body is so heavy. I can't hold on much longer. Just a little longer.

At that point, he was the only child in the six-to-eight group still holding the position.

Hillman watched him with pleased surprise.

“Rory!” Hillman suddenly called.

“Captain.” Rory straightened at once and waited for orders.

“Tomorrow, prepare some dye. While they train their waists, place a branch beneath each person's waist and coat it with dye. If anyone slacks off and touches the branch, staining himself, double his training assignment.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Rory answered loudly, but the corner of his mouth twitched. The captain really did have endless tricks. Those boys were going to suffer.

And suffer they would.

The teenagers' faces fell. Normally, they could make tiny movements to rest a little. Once Hillman did this, there would be no more slacking off.

Hillman continued in his cold voice, “After a warrior cultivates Battle Qi, it is stored about a fist's length below the navel. You should understand that this is also part of the core triangular region. Now you understand why training it is so important. This is the core. If it fails, training the rest of the body will be useless.”

A good teacher was extremely important to children.

Hillman was a great warrior. He understood the essentials of training, the importance of gradual progress, and the proper demands for children of each age. If the regimen was too harsh, a child's body might not be able to bear it and would break down.

“Battle Qi?”

At that word, the teenagers and the children resting nearby all looked at Hillman with wide eyes.

Every commoner child longed for Battle Qi. Even Linley, the child of a fallen noble family, yearned for it.

Thud!

Linley finally could not hold on either, though he still braced himself with his arms and lowered himself carefully to the ground.

“That feels good.”

As his aching waist rested, a tingling sensation spread through the depths of his muscles, almost into his bones. It felt so good that little Linley narrowed his eyes.

Which one was I to fall? Linley suddenly opened his eyes and looked around.

All the children in the six-to-eight group had fallen. More than half of the ten-year-olds in the middle group had fallen as well, though the fourteen- and fifteen-year-olds were still holding on. Hillman remained stern as he spoke.

“Remember: the body is like a container, like a wine cup, while Battle Qi is like wine. How much wine a cup can hold depends on the cup's size. In the same way, how far a person can ultimately go in cultivating Battle Qi depends on the degree to which he has trained his body. If the body is too weak, even with a powerful Battle Qi Manual, it cannot hold much Battle Qi, and he cannot become a formidable warrior.”

Hillman shared many important lessons with the children.

Many warriors had not been properly taught in their youth. Only later did they understand the relationship between physical strength and Battle Qi, but by then they were too old for training their bodies to have much effect.

Through repeated instruction, Hillman quietly passed down the hard-won lessons of countless predecessors. He did not want these children to repeat their mistakes.

…

After the Breath-Gathering Stance and coordination exercises for their waists, legs, shoulders, backs, and every other part of the body, nearly all the children had collapsed onto the ground. Hillman's regimen was very well judged.

“This morning's training is over,” Hillman announced.

Training in Wushan Town followed a regular schedule: once in the morning and once in the evening.

“Uncle Hillman, tell us a story!” the children called as soon as they were dismissed. After every morning session, Hillman told them stories from his military life or tales from elsewhere on the continent.

The children who had grown up in a small town longed to know about the outside world and army life.

Hillman smiled. Telling stories was another way he motivated them to train. He had always believed that children would achieve more when they wanted to cultivate of their own accord.

“Today, I'll tell you about the Four Ultimate Warriors from the continent's legends.” Reverence appeared on Hillman's face.

The children leaned forward, alert with excitement. Seated on the ground, Linley felt his heart thump. The Four Ultimate Warriors of legend? He listened intently, his attention fixed on Hillman.

Though his voice remained steady, Hillman spoke with barely contained excitement. “Thousands of years ago, the Four Ultimate Warriors appeared on our continent. Each possessed strength comparable to a dragon. A single one could rampage through an army of a million soldiers and take an enemy commander's head with ease. They were the Dragonblood Warrior, the Violetflame Warrior, the Tigerstripe Warrior, and the Undying Warrior!”

“Warriors have nine ranks. I am only a sixth-rank warrior, yet I can easily smash a huge stone or kick down a tree. A ninth-rank warrior would probably count among the greatest experts in all the Kingdom of Fenlai. Above the ninth rank are the Four Ultimate Warriors. They surpass the ninth rank, stand at the peak of warriors, and are the legendary Saint-level experts!”

Hillman's eyes were full of longing. “A legendary Saint-level expert can melt enormous icebergs, make the boundless sea rage, bring down mountains that tower into the clouds, destroy a city of a million people, and call down endless meteors from the sky. They are invincible. They stand above all others.”

Silence fell. Every child had been stunned speechless.

Hillman pointed toward the mountain to the northeast.

“Look at Wushan Mountain. Isn't it enormous?” he asked with a smile.

Still stunned by his words, the children nodded again and again. Wushan Mountain was a kilometer tall and stretched for several kilometers. To ordinary people, it truly was enormous.

“But a Saint-level expert could destroy Wushan Mountain in the blink of an eye,” Hillman said with complete certainty.

A sixth-rank warrior could destroy a huge stone with one blow, while a Saint-level expert could destroy an entire mountain. Every child's mouth fell open and eyes widened. Deep in their hearts, they feared Saint-level experts, but they also felt anticipation and longing.

Destroy a mountain? Hillman's words shook Linley deeply.

Before long, the children left one by one, still filled with awe. Hillman, Rory, and Roger were the last to go. As they watched the children leave in small groups, Hillman smiled.

“These children are Wushan Town's hope for the future,” he said.

Rory and Roger watched them as well. Commoner children everywhere on the continent trained hard from childhood. Looking at these children, the two men seemed to see their own childhoods and youth again.

“Captain Hillman, you're far more capable than Old Porter was. Under your guidance, I believe Wushan Town will become the strongest town among the dozen or so nearby,” Rory said.

The ability of a teacher determined a place's future.

“By the way, Captain, how do you know Saint-level experts and the Four Ultimate Warriors are so powerful?” Rory suddenly asked.

Hillman smiled in embarrassment. “Well, I don't really know how powerful the Four Ultimate Warriors were. They are figures of legend, after all. No one has seen one in who knows how many years.”

“You don't know, and you still fooled the children?” Rory and Roger were speechless.

Hillman smiled. “I may not know how powerful the Four Ultimate Warriors were, but I do know this: a Saint-level Grand Magus is a Magus who has reached the Saint level. They can cast Forbidden Magic, destroy armies of hundreds of thousands, and wipe out an entire city. Saint-level Magi are that powerful, so Saint-level Warriors probably aren't much weaker.”

“Besides, I want to give the children more motivation. Didn't you see the longing in their eyes after the story?” Hillman said with satisfaction.

Rory and Roger could only fall silent.

…

“Linley, see you tomorrow.”

“Goodbye, Hadley.”

After saying farewell to his good friend Hadley, Linley walked home alone. Before long, he saw the Baruch Clan estate.

The Baruch Clan estate covered a vast area. Moss, climbing vines, and other plants covered its walls. The walls bore the marks of time. The estate in Wushan Town was the Baruch Clan's ancestral home, passed down for a full five thousand years. Though it had been repaired again and again over the millennia, it still stood.

But as the clan declined, its finances worsened day by day. In the end, it could only live off its old resources. More than a century ago, the clan patriarch decided that the family would occupy only the front estate, which covered one-third of the whole compound. The rear courtyards and other areas would no longer be maintained, saving a considerable amount of money.

Even so, Linley's father, Hogg Baruch, often had to sell clan possessions to support the household.

The estate's great gates stood open.

Saint-level Warrior? Linley thought as he walked. Could I become a Saint-level Warrior someday?

“Linley.” Hillman's voice came from behind him. Hillman, Rory, and Roger, the last three to leave, had caught up.

Linley turned and beamed. “Uncle Hillman!”

Then he took a deep breath, looked up at Hillman, and asked with nervous expectation, “Uncle Hillman, you said Saint-level Warriors are so powerful. Do you think I could become a Saint-level Warrior?”

Like most children, Linley carried that longing in his heart.

Hillman froze. Rory and Roger were stunned as well.

A Saint-level Warrior?

These children really dared to dream. The Kingdom of Fenlai had tens of millions of residents, yet not a single Saint-level expert had appeared in centuries. To become one required hard training from childhood, a family's support, personal talent, opportunity, and much more. A Saint-level expert could not be created easily.

Hillman knew exactly how much he had suffered to become a sixth-rank warrior and how many times he had hovered between life and death. Becoming a sixth-rank warrior was already so difficult. Seventh, eighth, and ninth rank were even harder. As for the Saint level, Hillman only dared to dream about it.

But faced with Linley's eager gaze, he said, “Linley, Uncle Hillman believes in you. You will become a Saint-level Warrior.”

It was only an encouraging sentence, but it set something blazing in Linley’s heart: a desire unlike anything he had felt before.

“Uncle Hillman, can I train with the middle group tomorrow?” Linley suddenly asked.

Hillman, Rory, and Roger stared at him in surprise.

“Father says that if you want to rise above others, you must put in more effort than they do.” Linley slipped into an imitation of his father's tone.

Hillman laughed. He had seen Linley's training today. Although Linley was only six, his physical ability already matched that of children three or four years older. Hillman nodded with a smile.

“All right. But don't back down later. This isn't for a day or two. The days ahead are long.”

Linley raised his little head and smiled confidently. “Just watch me, Uncle Hillman.”

It was an entirely ordinary morning in Wushan Town. Every day that followed was much the same. Under the guidance of Hillman, the sixth-rank warrior, Wushan Town's children continued to train diligently. The only difference was that six-year-old Linley had been placed with the group of children around ten years old.