Three years passed in silence, like water flowing beneath ice. The Linn Mansion and its towering walls remained grand as ever but within those walls, many things had changed.
Kael at age nine stood calmly on the vast training grounds. His posture straight, his breathing even. The black training robes he wore fluttered lightly in the morning breeze, and his eyes carried a feeling far beyond his age, and on his wrist was an obsidian bracelet that glitters.
Around him stood more than thirty children. They were members of the extended Linn family and the descendants of the Linn elders, all gathered for their daily martial class. Their ages ranged from eight to eleven, and though their clothes were similar, the hierarchy among them was clear. Some standing proudly at the front were children of elders. Others lingering behind were either distant relatives or talented individuals. And then there was Kael.
The Clan Leader's son, standing neither at the front nor the back, but somewhere in between as if deliberately avoiding attention.
Yelan stood not far from him, and on her wrist was a crimson colored bracelet. At ten years old, she wore the same simple training attire as the others, her hair tied neatly behind her head. Though officially still Kael's maid, she had been granted permission to train alongside the Linn children a rare exception that stirred dissatisfaction among some.
Yet none dared voice it openly. Not when Lord Drake had approved it.
Aoren was absent. At fourteen, he had already stepped into the Moulding Realm, making these training sessions meaningless to him. He now trained separately under specialized instructors, far from the children's grounds.
At the center of the training stage stood Instructor Shi. He was a lean, middle-aged man with sharp eyes and a stern expression, dressed in gray martial robes with the Linn insignia embroidered on the chest. His cultivation was far above the children's, and his presence alone was enough to silence idle chatter.
"Today," Instructor Shi said coldly, his voice carrying across the stage, "you will continue practicing the Bask Fist." At the mention of the name, the children straightened instinctively.
The Bask Fist was a low mortal-tier battle technique, the very foundation of Linn martial training. Every child of the clan, whether a direct descendant or a talented individual, was required to master it before stepping into the Moulding Realm.
Instructor Shi's gaze swept over them. "This technique strengthens the body, tempers the bones, and aligns vital energy within your movements," he said. "Those who cannot grasp it properly have no right dreaming of higher realms or even entering the moulding realm." He raised his hand.
"Watch carefully." Instructor Shi stepped forward and demonstrated.
His fist moved slowly at first, drawing a shallow arc through the air. His stance was firm, his feet planted wide as the knees bent just enough. As his punch extended, a faint ripple passed through the air from perfect coordination.
"Bask," he said, drawing his fist back, "does not mean reckless force." He threw another punch, faster this time. "It means controlled strength. Like sunlight warming stone steady, persistent, and unavoidable." The children watched with varying degrees of awe and concentration.
"Begin." The training stage erupted into motion.
Children assumed stances, fists flying forward again and again. Some punches were sharp, others sloppy. Some children are overextended, losing balance. Others hesitated, unsure of their movements.
Grunts and sharp exhales filled the air except for Kael. His stance was not perfect, but it was stable. His fists moved in rhythm with his breathing, inhale, strike, exhale, retract. There was no wasted motion, no excessive force. Instructor Shi noticed him immediately.
His eyes lingered on Kael longer than on most. Interesting…
Kael's control was exceptional. Each punch carried the exact same strength, as if measured carefully beforehand. Nearby, one of the elder's grandsons scoffed quietly. "Hmph. He's just some small thing trying to prove strong."
Yelan overheard but she said nothing. She focused harder, following the technique as best as she could. Though her body was smaller, her movements were sharp and precise.
Instructor Shi walked among the children, correcting stances, striking shoulders with a bamboo rod when needed.
"Too stiff."
"Your hips are wrong."
"Again."
When he reached Kael, he stopped. "Your posture," Instructor Shi said, "is acceptable." Kael immediately adjusted, lowering his stance just slightly.
"But you're holding back," the instructor continued. Kael paused. "I am not, Instructor," he replied respectfully. Instructor Shi raised an eyebrow.
"Then strike."
Kael nodded. He stepped forward and punched. There was no sound, no flashy display just a clean, direct motion. Instructor Shi's eyes narrowed. He's already in the novice class.
The punch carried everything it should have and nothing more. No excess strain on the muscles. No imbalance.
Instructor Shi straightened. "Continue," he said simply, moving on.
That single word sent ripples through the watching children. Some looked at Kael with surprise. Others with jealousy but the training continued. Sweat soaked into their robes. Arms trembled from repeated strikes. Some children slowed down breathing heavily.
Yelan struggled but persisted, teeth clenched, refusing to fall behind. Every time her arm shook, she remembered the market, the power of that man, the blood and she still pushed forward.
After four hours, Instructor Shi raised his hand. "Enough."
The children stopped, panting. "Those who were not selected for their coming-of-age ceremony will stay behind," he said. "Those selected should go to their history class. Note the Bask Fist is the gate. You either pass through it or remain outside."
Three years of controlled breathing, music-guided meditation, and discipline drilled into his bones. Kael walked slowly out of the training ground, remembering the sacrifice he made to reach this state.
As the children dispersed, murmurs followed him not loud enough to challenge him, but loud enough to acknowledge him.
"The clan leader's son…"
"Did you see Instructor Shi's reaction?"
"Hmph, and if he is the clan leader's son. We can still beat him."
"Senior Astrid and senior Luke are still here"
"Yes, it's not like he can beat them alone. Hehehehe..."
Kael ignored them all. He simply walked beside Yelan, the morning sun casting long shadows across the Linn training grounds.