Stone Carving and Sword Swinging

The summer in Wushan Town was always filled with the scent of soil and grass, occasionally mixed with a faint, fishy breeze blowing from the Magic Beast Mountain Range. In the backyard of the Baruch Clan estate, two youths were chasing after strength in their own respective ways.

Linley held a flat chisel, staring with intense focus at a grey, dusty stone before him. His spiritual energy was highly concentrated, and the chisel seemed to come alive in his hands, dancing nimbly across the stone as stone chips flew everywhere. He was sculpting; this was the method Doering Cowart had taught him to exercise his control over spiritual energy. A vague, lion-like animal form was gradually emerging from the stone.

Fine beads of sweat seeped from his temples, and the massive consumption of spiritual energy made his face look somewhat pale, yet his eyes were exceptionally bright. With every stroke, he strove for perfection, feeling his spiritual energy like a silken thread guiding the chisel, precisely peeling away the excess stone.

In the open space not far away, Lin Qin was still engaged in his unwavering sword-swinging practice.

"Whoosh!" "Whoosh!" "Whoosh!"

The sound of the broadsword cutting through the air was steady and rhythmic. Compared to three months ago, his movements were more fluid, and his control of power was far more refined. He was no longer simply exhausting all his strength; he had begun to try and mobilize the core power of his waist and abdomen, letting the force rise from his feet, pass through his legs, waist, and back, and finally channel into his arms to be transmitted to the sword.

Every swing he made seemed to carry a sense of heavy condensation. The wind from the sword swept across the ground, actually stirring up faint dust, as if the gravitational field of the sword itself had been slightly magnified.

Linley finished a stage of his sculpting and stopped to rest, rubbing his throbbing temples, his gaze involuntarily drawn to Lin Qin. Watching that seemingly tireless figure, and seeing the extreme focus in his eyes with every swing, he couldn't help but feel admiration.

"Lin Qin," Linley couldn't help but speak up, "don't you find it boring to swing your sword like this every day?"

Hearing this, Lin Qin did not stop his movements until he finished the current set of one thousand slashes, only then sheathing his sword and exhaling a long breath of turbid air containing faint, earthy-yellow specks of light. He picked up his water skin, took a sip, and sat down on the stone steps beside Linley.

"Boring?" Lin Qin wiped his sweat, looking at his calloused hands. "At first, yes. But now, with every swing, I can feel something different."

"Different?" Linley asked curiously.

"Yeah." Lin Qin nodded. He picked up a branch from the side and casually thrust it forward. "Look, at the beginning, I only used the strength of my arms. Later, I discovered that by using my waist, the sword became steadier and the power greater. Even later, I tried to mobilize the faint Earth Battle Qi within my body at the moment of the strike, letting it flow along specific paths..."

As he spoke, he used the branch to demonstrate slowly: "Look, with this strike, if the Battle Qi erupts at the peak of the force, the penetrating power is stronger. But if it circulates while withdrawing the sword, I can connect to the next move faster..."

Linley's eyes widened. He had the guidance of Grandpa Doering and was not ignorant of warrior cultivation, but his knowledge was limited to theory. He had never imagined that a simple slashing motion could contain so many subtle intricacies. This was no longer simple practice; it was an analysis of the origin of power!

This... this is already approaching the realization of "Weight as Lightness," isn't it? Linley was shocked. He had heard Grandpa Doering mention the realms of warriors; after the basics came "momentum," and the initial application of "momentum" was reflected in the exquisite control of power, such as "Weight as Lightness" and "Lightness as Weight." How long had Lin Qin been practicing? Had he already reached the threshold?

Lin Qin smiled, neither admitting nor denying it. He had indeed, through countless repetitions, faintly touched upon that feeling of "making a heavy sword light and agile," but that layer of window paper had not yet been fully pierced. He knew this required more practice and more sweat.

"What about your stone carving? How is that going?" Lin Qin changed the subject, looking at the stone carving that was beginning to take shape.

Mentioning the carving, Linley's eyes lit up: "Do... well, I think sculpting is amazing! It requires very precise control of spiritual energy, and I feel it's very helpful for my meditation. Uncle Hillman said that a powerful warrior also needs a strong will and spirit, and I think sculpting can train that."

Lin Qin was thoughtful: "Spiritual control... is it like how I control the force and angle of my sword strikes?"

"A bit like that!" Linley gestured excitedly. "You have to use your spiritual energy to 'see' the shape you want to carve inside the stone, and then control the knife to remove the excess part bit by bit. You can't have too much or too little. The control of force must be just right."

Two youths—one a future Dragonblood Warrior and mage, the other a bitter cultivator walking the path of "Heaven Rewards Diligence"—were in the backyard of the Baruch Clan, exchanging their understandings of "power" and "control." Their paths were vastly different, but their hearts, which sought strength, were one and the same.

At this moment, the butler, Grandpa Hiri, walked over, looking at them kindly: "Young Master Linley, Lin Qin, it's time for lunch. Oh, right, Lin Qin, Master Hogg is looking for you. It seems he wants to ask you about your Battle Qi cultivation; he seems quite surprised by the speed of your progress."

Lin Qin's heart tightened, and he nodded. He knew that his cultivation speed, which far exceeded that of ordinary people, had eventually caught the attention of the clan head, Hogg. However, his heart was open and honest, and his cultivation process was beyond reproach, so he did not fear the inquiry.

Linley patted Lin Qin on the shoulder and whispered, "Don't worry, Father is just concerned about you."

The two walked side by side toward the mansion. Under the sunlight, one still had the scent of stone dust on his fingertips, while the other held the lingering warmth of the sword hilt in his palm. Their shadows stretched long, intertwining, as if foreshadowing a legend that would soon sweep across the Yulan Continent, quietly sprouting from this peaceful afternoon in Wushan Town.

Lin Qin knew he had to work even harder. The enrollment season for the Ernst Institute was approaching; there was a broader world there, and more challenges waiting for him to measure with his sweat and open up with the sword in his hand.