Chapter 188 – The Tempered Core
Kael groaned, falling flat on the sun-baked ground, his armor clanging as dust scattered around him. Sweat dripped from his brow, every breath labored.
"Next step?" he wheezed, glaring up at Hunnt. "What could possibly be worse than this?"
Hunnt crossed his arms, that faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Weight training," he said calmly — then added, "plus monster training."
Alder blinked, wide-eyed. "You're not serious."
Kael raised a finger in protest. "Are you trying to kill us?"
Seren gave a small chuckle, shoulders rising and falling with exhaustion. "If he is, I think he'll succeed by morning."
Alder burst out laughing. "Ha! We'll die stronger at least."
Hunnt shrugged. "Good. Then it won't be a waste."
---
The Second Month of Training
From that morning onward, the Korvan plains turned into a battlefield of sweat and willpower.
Each sunrise began with the rhythmic thuds of weighted boots striking the earth.
Each hunter carried fifty kilograms — heavy bracers, plated greaves, and chest weights that dug into the skin like molten iron.
They fought monsters under this weight, trained under scorching heat, and meditated under the weight of exhaustion.
It was not just physical. It was will forged into motion.
"Don't fight the weight," Hunnt said as they staggered through drills. "Let it move with you."
Kael shouted over his shoulder, "It's not moving with me — it's trying to kill me!"
Hunnt smirked. "Then move faster."
---
The week's cycle became routine:
Morning: Weighted movement and Rokushiki drills.
Midday: Monster combat — testing endurance under pressure.
Evening: Haki meditation and breathing control.
Kael darted around the field, using Observation Haki sparingly, predicting lunges from magma beasts before they struck.
Alder took hits head-on, channeling Tekkai through his stance as he cleaved through flaming hides.
Seren endured the longest — her shield absorbing wave after wave of molten impact, her stamina carved from sheer resolve.
And Hunnt — the silent storm among them — barely spoke, demonstrating techniques through movement alone.
His Armament Haki flickered across his gauntlets, not as a wild blaze but as a steady flame, each strike measured, his footwork flowing in rhythm with his breath.
Kael muttered mid-fight, "He doesn't even sweat."
Alder grunted, parrying a claw. "He's not human. He's willpower wearing armor."
---
After sunset, Hunnt forced them to sit still.
The four sat cross-legged before the faint glow of the forge. The night was silent except for the distant hum of molten earth beneath Korvan.
"Close your eyes," Hunnt said quietly. "Your heartbeat is your anchor. Your will follows its rhythm. That's how you find your center."
Seren tilted her head. "Feels like breathing through fire."
Hunnt nodded. "Exactly. You breathe with the flame, not against it."
For hours they practiced this.
Each exhale cooled the fire inside them. Each inhale drew the world closer.
Kael learned to listen — to every heartbeat, every vibration. His Observation Haki began to activate without strain, no longer a flickering pulse but a quiet hum of awareness.
Alder learned control — his Armament coating his blade evenly, no longer leaking energy from wild bursts.
Seren learned stability — how to root her body without locking it, her stance fluid yet solid.
Hunnt, however, was chasing something deeper.
---
When the others rested, Hunnt stayed behind.
The forge glowed softly in the darkness as he sat cross-legged before the anvil, gauntlets resting on his knees.
His Armament Haki rippled faintly across his skin, forming threads of light that pulsed with his heartbeat.
The first few nights, the energy was unstable — each attempt either burning too bright or dispersing too quickly.
He remembered an old saying from his mentors:
"A flame uncontrolled consumes. A flame refined endures."
So Hunnt began to refine.
He trained his breathing to match the flicker of the forge.
Inhale — feel the Haki spread through the body.
Exhale — let it retreat, coiling inward.
Each repetition condensed the aura, drawing it deeper into his core.
By the fourth night, his gauntlets no longer glowed wildly — instead, they pulsed steadily, veins of crimson light threading through the black metal like living magma.
He struck the anvil once, channeling all his Haki through the motion.
The blow didn't explode outward — it sank in, vibrating through the metal like controlled thunder.
The anvil cracked. The forge trembled.
But Hunnt didn't move — his body unmoved by recoil, his aura unwavering.
He smiled faintly. "That's it… not the weapon controlling the will — the will controlling the weapon."
The Temperate Core had formed.
---
When the second month came to an end, Hunnt gathered them on the training field.
"Remove the weights," he said simply.
Kael, Alder, and Seren hesitated, then unclasped the heavy metal pieces.
The moment they hit the ground, the world changed.
Kael's reflexes sharpened instantly. He blinked — and was already ten meters away without realizing it.
Alder swung his sword, the weight of the blade suddenly feather-light in his grip.
Seren spun her lance with such speed that the air cracked from the motion.
The three froze, staring at one another, their movements faster, cleaner, sharper than before.
Alder laughed in disbelief. "I feel like my body forgot what gravity is."
Kael grinned. "You mean we've become Hunnt's brand of insane."
Seren smirked. "I'll take that as progress."
Hunnt stepped forward, his gauntlets gleaming faintly. "That's the difference between strength and mastery. You no longer fight with strain — you move with will."
He raised his hand, releasing a pulse of Armament Haki.
The shockwave rolled through the air — but none of them faltered.
Kael's Observation Haki sparked automatically, reading the incoming pressure.
Alder's Armament responded, hardening around his arms.
Seren felt her senses flare, her stance adjusting before thought.
Hunnt nodded. "Good. Your bodies have learned what your spirits already knew. You've synchronized instinct with endurance."
Then he took a deep breath. The glow on his gauntlets condensed into a focused crimson sheen — the aura perfectly steady.
"Stage II," he said softly, looking down at his hands.
"The Tempered Core — mastered."
---
That night, Hunnt sat by the forge again, watching the flame breathe.
He could feel the steady pulse of his Armament Haki in tune with the fire's rhythm. It was no longer violent or consuming — it was calm, deliberate, alive.
He whispered to himself,
"The forge endures. The will remains."
And as the embers dimmed, Hunnt's shadow burned steady against the wall — the silhouette of a man who had tempered both body and soul into one.