After lunch, Lin Qin followed Butler Hiri to Hogg's study.
The study smelled of old books and leather. Hogg Baruch sat behind the desk, dressed in a simple gray robe. His expression was stern, his gaze sharp, and he carried the distinctive bearing of a nobleman, despite the Baruch Clan's decline.
"Clan Head." Lin Qin bowed respectfully.
Hogg studied the boy before him. Though only eight, he was sturdier than most children his age. His palms were covered in calluses, his stance steady, and his gaze clear and resolute. Hogg remembered Lin Qin. His parents had been unremarkable members of a branch family, and they had died during a monster riot.
"Hiri tells me you've been making rapid progress in your Battle Qi training," Hogg said evenly.
"Yes, Clan Head," Lin Qin replied. He knew there was no point in hiding it; everyone had seen his progress.
"How far have you gotten?" Hogg pressed.
"I broke through yesterday. I'm a Level 3 Warrior now," Lin Qin answered without hesitation. On the Yulan Continent, strength was everything. Showing what he could do, within reason, might earn him more resources.
Silence fell over the study for a moment. Hogg's fingertips tapped lightly on the desk. An eight-year-old Level 3 Warrior? Even at the height of the Baruch Clan's glory, that would have been considered exceptional.
"How do you train?" Hogg asked, his tone appraising.
"I do a thousand repetitions of each basic sword exercise every day, run twenty kilometers with weights, and meditate for four hours," Lin Qin said, listing his daily routine. "That's all."
Hogg watched him, trying to spot any sign of a lie, but Lin Qin met his gaze openly. That was a terrifying amount of training for an eight-year-old, but not impossible, especially with some basic Battle Qi manuals and a steely will. Even so, his progress was still too fast.
"You're practicing with the Basic Battle Qi Manual provided by the clan?"
"Yes."
Hogg fell silent for a moment. He thought of the shame that haunted the clan's legacy, and the Dragon Blood Secret Manual that could only be activated with a sufficient concentration of Dragon Blood. The boy's surname was Lin, a surname used by a branch of the Baruch Clan, but he wasn't a direct descendant. The Dragonblood Warrior bloodline in his veins was likely so diluted as to be negligible.
What a pity. If only he had enough Dragon Blood... Hogg suppressed his regret.
"You have great perseverance," Hogg said at last. "The Baruch Clan takes pride in its warrior legacy. Your hard work does that honor justice. Keep at it, and don't slack off. If you have any questions about your training, you can ask me or Hillman."
He didn't press the matter. The Yulan Continent was vast, and there were always exceptions. Perhaps this boy was simply someone born to fight.
"Thank you, Clan Head." Lin Qin bowed again. Hogg's response was just what he'd expected. As long as a rapidly growing young clansman had a clean background, he was an asset to the clan.
"Mm. You may go." Hogg waved him away.
Lin Qin left the study and gently closed the door.
Hogg sat alone in the study, his gaze resting on the enormous relief of a wicked dragon on the wall, the symbol of the Baruch Clan. He murmured, "Could the Baruch Clan really be on the verge of a turnaround?"
A faint spark of hope in his heart seemed to burn a little brighter at the sight of what these two children had done.
After leaving the estate, Lin Qin didn't go back to rest. Instead, he headed straight for the woods outside town. There was a clearing there where he often trained.
Hogg's questions hadn't put any pressure on him. If anything, they had made his path even clearer. Strength was the only ticket that mattered.
He drew the greatsword from his back and began swinging it again.
The Battle Qi of a Level 3 Warrior surged through him, several times stronger than before. He controlled it, trying to coat the blade with greater precision.
Whoosh! The sword cut through the air.
He recalled the Shadow he had seen that day, and the path the wind had taken as it swept past. He adjusted the angle of his swings, trying to make the blade follow the air more closely, reducing resistance and increasing speed.
A thousand swings, two thousand...
Sweat soaked his clothes, and his arms began to ache and go numb. Yet with each cycle of exhaustion and recovery, the Battle Qi within him grew more refined. His understanding of how force traveled, and his hazy sense of momentum, also deepened slowly but surely with every repetition.
He didn't know what Weight as Lightness was, or what momentum was. He only knew this worked and made him stronger.
That was enough.
Deep in the woods, only the boy's sword slicing through the air and his unnervingly steady breathing echoed on and on.
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