Morning in Wushan Town

In Wushan Town, on the training grounds of the Baruch Clan guard, the light had yet to fully break, and a thin mist hung in the air.

"Nine hundred ninety-seven!"

"Nine hundred ninety-eight!"

"Nine hundred ninety-nine!"

"One thousand!"

The dull sound of air being cleaved accompanied the boy's heavy gasps, ringing out with a rhythm as steady as a heartbeat.

Lin Qin was shirtless, his bronze skin covered in beads of sweat that steamed into faint white wisps in the chilly morning air. He gripped a broadsword, heavier than the standard issue, and slashed forward again and again.

His movements were not flashy, perhaps even monotonous, consisting only of the most basic strikes: hacking, chopping, sweeping, thrusting, and parrying. Yet, with every swing, he poured his entire strength into it; the muscles in his waist, abdomen, back, and arms coiled like a single rope, erupting with power far beyond what was expected of his age. His gaze was focused and resolute, as if the entire world had narrowed down to nothing but him and the sword in his hand.

Not far away, the guard captain Hillman watched this scene, a flicker of complexity in his eyes.

Lin Qin was eight years old this year, the same age as young master Linley, whom he had watched grow up. Three months ago, when he was leading this group of children through basic training, he had noticed this taciturn boy. This boy of mediocre talent possessed a heart of resilience that moved everyone who saw it.

While others felt their arms go sore after a hundred swings, he would add extra physical conditioning after finishing a thousand. While others played and joked during breaks, he would sit in a corner, silently meditating, feeling the faint elemental energy of the world. Day after day, he never stopped.

Hillman could clearly feel that the battle qi within Lin Qin was accumulating and strengthening at a terrifyingly stable rate. It had only been three months, and yet his battle qi foundation had likely already reached the threshold of a Second Rank Warrior. It was simply incredible!

"Heaven rewards diligence; the ancients did not deceive me," Hillman sighed softly. "But, with such grueling training, does he truly not feel tired?"

Tired?

Lin Qin felt the soreness in his muscles and the exhaustion in his spirit, yet a faint, imperceptible curve tugged at the corner of his mouth.

He was tired—extremely tired.

But he could feel even more clearly that with every drop of sweat that fell, the wisps of earth-yellow energy within his body grew and condensed at a speed visible to the naked eye. Every time he persisted after reaching his limit, he could feel his muscle fibers tearing and then regrowing, becoming tougher and more resilient.

This feeling of "immediate return for every effort" was like the finest wine, intoxicating him and dispelling all fatigue.

Three months ago, when he had witnessed a mysterious Saint Realm expert appear above Wushan Town as if teleporting—the overwhelming power that looked down upon the world—and subsequently heard of the Baruch Clan's former glory and current decline, an indescribable tremor had erupted in his heart.

He had ordinary talent; he had no Coiling Dragon Ring, no powerful ancestral bloodline. All he possessed was himself and this body willing to give everything.

"If others practice once, I will practice ten times, a hundred times, a thousand, ten thousand times!"

The moment this thought arose, he felt his soul connect with some hidden rule of the universe. A belief known as "Heaven Rewards Diligence" became the core of his soul.

From that day on, he truly understood what it meant for "effort to be rewarded." His battle qi cultivation efficiency was shockingly high; his understanding of basic techniques became incredibly profound through millions of repetitions. He even discovered that when he focused entirely on swinging his sword, he could occasionally catch the subtle rhythm of "power" transmission as the blade sliced through the air.

He knew he had embarked on a path unlike any other.

"Lin Qin, take a break. Get ready for reaction training," Hillman's voice called out.

"Yes, Uncle Hillman!" Lin Qin stood with his sword sheathed and let out a long breath of stale air. The white mist shot out like an arrow, traveling over half a meter before slowly dissipating. He picked up the coarse cloth beside him to wipe away his sweat, his gaze involuntarily drifting to the other side of the training ground.

There, a boy with brown hair was watching with bright eyes as Hillman taught the guards to practice their military fist techniques; it was Linley.

Lin Qin looked at Linley, his eyes devoid of jealousy, holding only a faint sense of resonance. They were both seekers of power, just on different paths. Linley relied on his brilliant, peerless talent, while he relied on the solid earth beneath his feet and his never-ending sweat.

He walked over.

"Linley."

"Lin Qin." Linley snapped out of his thoughts and greeted him with a smile; he had a good impression of this peer who was like a madman when it came to training. "You're truly amazing. Just watching you makes me feel tired."

"You get used to it," Lin Qin said concisely. He looked at the guards' sharp punches and kicks in the field and suddenly asked, "Linley, what do you think 'momentum' is?"

Linley was stunned and shook his head. "I don't know. Uncle Hillman says it's a very high realm."

Lin Qin's gaze was steady as he said slowly, "I think 'momentum' is what happens when power, speed, and will merge into one after being tempered a thousand times. Like this punch—if you throw it ten thousand times, a hundred thousand times, it is no longer just a punch. It becomes your body's instinct, an extension of your will."

As he spoke, he unconsciously mimicked one of the guards' straight punches, the fist creating a short, sharp whistle in the air.

Linley didn't fully understand, but he felt that Lin Qin's words made a lot of sense.

Just then, a black shadow streaked across the woods at the edge of the training ground like a ghost, moving so fast it left only an afterimage.

Both of them felt a chill in their hearts and looked up, but they saw nothing.

"So fast!" Linley exclaimed.

Lin Qin's pupils, however, contracted slightly. In the instant the black shadow flashed by, he relied on his dynamic vision—far superior to an ordinary person's—and the intuition cultivated through countless sword swings to capture a trace of its trajectory. It wasn't a straight line, but an extremely fluid arc that borrowed the power of the wind!

Wind... could it be used like that?

His brain raced. The inspiration from that single glimpse intertwined with the air resistance he felt while swinging his sword and the wind that blew against him while running.

"Can observing... also bring growth?" Lin Qin realized in his heart. "If so, sensing the world is also a form of 'effort'!"

He stood where he was, closed his eyes, and carefully savored the rhythm that had flashed by.

Hillman watched the two thoughtful boys, especially Lin Qin, who stood with eyes closed, his aura appearing to grow more steady. He sighed in his heart once more, "Young master Linley is gifted with extraordinary talent and has a limitless future. And this Lin Qin... his future, I fear, will not stop at Wushan Town."

The morning light finally pierced the mist, spilling onto the training ground and casting a long shadow of Lin Qin. The sweat gathered into a small puddle at his feet, reflecting the golden light.

A new day had begun, and for Lin Qin, this was just another ordinary yet extraordinary day among the countless days of diligence rewarded by heaven.

His journey across the Yulan Continent had officially taken its first step from this ordinary morning in Wushan Town. Beneath his feet was the solid earth, above his head was the vast sky, and the road to the peak would be paved with billions of sword swings and sweat that never knew surrender.