Dinner

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

Three Shadow Cats appeared from three different directions, their emerald eyes fixed intently on Feng Qingmo.

"Meow!"

With a roar, all three Shadow Cats pounced at once. They were far faster than Unicorn Boars.

Feng Qingmo retreated, bent low, and raised his sword!

He dodged the attacks of two Shadow Cats and thrust the tip of his sword into the third one's open mouth, straight through its skull.

With a casual flick, he flung the Shadow Cat's corpse aside. Then he swung his longsword and smacked the head of another Shadow Cat as it pounced at him again. The force cracked its skull. With a wet smack, its whole body was sent flying into the wall, where it slid slowly to the ground.

The last Shadow Cat was badly startled. It abruptly checked its charge, then turned and tried to run.

Feng Qingmo pushed off the ground, his speed surging. In just a few strides, he caught up to the Shadow Cat. As it turned its head, astonishment in its eyes, he drove his sword tip in just below its ear.

After cutting off the left ears of all three Shadow Cats, Feng Qingmo couldn't help shaking his head.

"My swordsmanship and footwork have a solid foundation, but I'm still nowhere near mastery or subtlety. At least I've adapted to killing pretty quickly... Four ears should be enough to pass the test. Now I can focus on honing my footwork and swordsmanship..."

At six-thirty in the morning, the town gates opened.

The Martial Artists who had completed the test came out in groups of two or three. Some were unscathed, some looked battered, some were covered in blood, and others were pale...

"Eight ears. Not bad!" The Martial Artist in charge of the test praised Feng Qingmo, who was completely unharmed.

After a whole night of practice, he had of course killed more than eight monsters. But once he'd cut off eight left ears, passing the test was a sure thing, so he hadn't bothered to cut off any more.

Even so, his score was good enough to put him in the top ten among this batch of Quasi-Martial Artists.

After returning the equipment, he boarded a train back to the main city.

At dusk, Feng Qingmo stepped through the front door. A table laden with steaming, delicious food awaited him.

"Mo'er, you're home! Go wash your hands. Dinner's ready!"

Zuo Huifen spoke, but her eyes carefully examined Feng Qingmo. Only after seeing that he walked normally and was completely unharmed did she quietly breathe a sigh of relief.

Feng Qingmo keenly noticed his mother's gaze and smiled. "Mom, you know how strong I am. The combat test was a piece of cake for me..."

"Where do you get all those cheeky expressions..." she grumbled, though she couldn't hide the smile in her eyes.

Feng Jiansong came down from the training room upstairs, and the family of three sat around the table for dinner.

"I checked for you earlier," Feng Jiansong said as he ladled out soup. "Your Martial Artist account has been set up. After dinner, log in to Huaxia Home with your own account. The startup funds the Military promised should have arrived..."

"Okay."

"People from Huashan will be coming in a few days," Feng Jiansong said with a sudden sigh. "They'll take you to the Huashan Training Camp..."

Feng Qingmo fell silent. This past month had been the most carefree time of his life in either of his two lifetimes. He'd been so happy surrounded by his parents' love that, for a moment, he almost felt like refusing Huashan.

Their son had never been away from them, not once, since he was born. Looking at Feng Qingmo's silence, Zuo Huifen felt even more reluctant to let him go, but she forced a smile and comforted him. "Mo'er, a man should set his sights far and wide. You're grown up now. It's time to go out and make your way in the world..."

"Your mother's right," Feng Jiansong said, gently patting Feng Qingmo's shoulder with his left hand. "A young eagle has to spread its wings and fly someday..."

Feng Qingmo smiled. "I understand. I've been ready for this for a long time. I just feel a little reluctant to leave you both..."

"Su Shi, the great literary figure of ancient times, wrote a poem for a child's first bath. The last two lines go: 'I only wish my child were foolish and unremarkable, free of hardship and disaster, yet destined for high office!'"

Feng Jiansong's hand tightened on Feng Qingmo's shoulder. "I've changed it a little: 'I only wish my child were foolish and unremarkable, free of hardship and disaster, yet destined to become a War God!'"

"Mo'er," Feng Jiansong said, looking into his son's eyes, "your mother and I couldn't give you a healthy body. We only wish you a life free of hardship and disaster, and that you'll become a War God soon, doing your part to rid our country of the monster threat!"

"Don't worry, Mom and Dad!" Feng Qingmo raised his wineglass. "Not only will I become a War God, I'll also buy you the Water of Life so you can give me a little brother or sister soon..."

The three wineglasses clinked together.

"Mo'er," Feng Jiansong said with a smile after setting down his glass, "I looked up your account upstairs and transferred three hundred million to you. It's all the savings your mother and I have put aside over the years..."

He stopped Feng Qingmo from speaking. "You're just starting out on the path of a Martial Artist. You'll need a lot of money for weapons, Combat Suits, manuals, and the like. Don't worry, your mother and I have kept some money in reserve... We're still waiting for you to become a War God and buy us the Water of Life!"

"Mo'er," Zuo Huifen added, "you've only just become a Martial Artist, and this is when you need money most. Your father and I haven't gone into the Wilderness Zone to hunt monsters in years, and we don't need to replace our weapons or Combat Suits, so there's not much we need money for. Use it as you like. If it isn't enough, we'll figure something out..."

Feeling the weight of his parents' love, Feng Qingmo was filled with warmth. "Thank you, Mom and Dad!"

"All right, hurry up and eat," Zuo Huifen said with a smile, putting a large piece of meat in his bowl.

"Mo'er, have you decided which manuals to buy?" Feng Jiansong asked.

"Not yet." Feng Qingmo shook his head. "I've only ever practiced basic swordsmanship, so I'll definitely buy a sword manual, along with a footwork manual and a Guidance Technique..."

"Mm. The Military's Mall also has the world's second-strongest fighter Thor's Nine-Layer Thunder Blade and the world's strongest fighter Hong's World Destroyer. They're both considered ultimate manuals." Feng Jiansong's expression turned wistful. "They say the Nine-Layer Thunder Blade forged Thor's world-class physique and speed..."

"Too bad the Nine-Layer Thunder Blade uses a blade, and World Destroyer uses a spear," he said regretfully. "Neither is a sword technique..."

"Blades, spears, and swords are the most commonly used weapons," Feng Qingmo said as he ate. "I'm sure the Mall has plenty of excellent sword techniques..."

He swallowed his food, then looked up, full of confidence. "Hong's World Destroyer and Thor's Nine-Layer Thunder Blade were both created by their authors. Maybe someday I'll create my own ultimate sword technique, too..."

"Well said!" Zuo Huifen encouraged him with a smile. "That's the kind of ambition you should have. Mo'er, I believe in you!"

"Ambition is good," Feng Jiansong said seriously, "but you still have to keep your feet on the ground and take things one step at a time. Your swordsmanship and footwork are still at the basic level. Don't get ahead of yourself. If your foundation isn't solid, you'll take a lot of detours later..."

"I understand," Feng Qingmo said with a nod. "Besides, there'll definitely be instructors at the Huashan Training Camp. And maybe I'll even get a chance to learn from Chief Jia or some other being Beyond War God..."