Arduous Training

"That's true."

Ma Hongjun nodded and lay back down.

"Goodnight, Brother Wen."

"Mm."

Fu Wen replied and lay down as well.

But he did not sleep.

Level eighteen was only a small goal.

There was still a long road ahead.

Level twenty, level thirty, level forty...

One ring, two rings, three rings...

Title Douluo, Peerless Douluo, God...

Every step required a firm, steady footing.

One could not be impatient, nor could one be slow.

The moon outside the window was bright, casting a sheet of silvery radiance.

Fu Wen watched the moonlight outside the window and gradually drifted into a dream.

Early the next morning, Flender learned the news of Fu Wen's breakthrough.

It wasn't Fu Wen who told him; it was Ma Hongjun.

The little fatty's mouth was faster than his brain. While eating breakfast, he blurted out, "Master, Brother Wen reached level eighteen last night," shocking everyone at the table.

"Level eighteen?"

Flender set down his bowl and chopsticks and looked at Fu Wen.

"Mm."

Fu Wen nodded, his expression calm. "I broke through last night."

"Good!"

Flender slapped the table and laughed heartily.

"Level eighteen with one ring! It's only been a little over three months!"

"Xiao Wen, your speed is even faster than Xiao Ao was back then!"

Oscar sat opposite him, his mouth stuffed with a bun, and mumbled vaguely, "Dad, can you stop using me as a negative example?"

"You aren't a negative example; you're a reference point."

Flender pushed up his glasses. "Only with a comparison can one see the gap."

Oscar rolled his eyes and continued eating his bun.

Zhao Wuji set down his chopsticks and looked Fu Wen up and down.

"Xiao Wen, your aura is indeed much stronger than it was yesterday."

"But isn't your leveling speed a bit too fast?"

"Is your foundation solid?"

Fu Wen nodded. "Rest assured, Teacher Zhao, my foundation is very solid."

"Before every level-up, I repeatedly refine my soul power. I don't pursue speed, only quality."

Zhao Wuji nodded in satisfaction.

"That's good."

"In cultivation, speed isn't the skill; stability is."

"Since you understand this principle, I won't say anything more."

Li Yusong pushed up his glasses and spoke up. "Xiao Wen, you're at level eighteen now. At this rate, you'll be able to push for your second ring in another two months."

"Do you have any ideas for your second soul ring target?"

Fu Wen thought for a moment and shook his head. "Not yet."

"No rush."

Li Yusong said, "The age of a second soul ring can reach over seven hundred years. Given your physical strength, aiming for nine hundred years wouldn't be a problem. The selection range is much larger than it was for your first ring."

"Think about it slowly; there's no hurry."

"Understood, Teacher Li."

Fu Wen nodded.

Shao Xin walked over carrying the last basket of buns and placed it on the table.

"Xiao Wen, eat more to build up your strength."

"You're still growing; you can't afford to fall behind on nutrition."

"Thank you, Uncle Shao."

Fu Wen picked up a steamed bun and took a bite.

Shao Xin's cooking was as excellent as ever.

Ma Hongjun leaned in and whispered, "Brother Wen, what did it feel like when you broke through last night?"

"It didn't feel like anything."

Fu Wen remained expressionless. "It was just a natural progression."

"A natural progression..."

Ma Hongjun repeated the words, lost in thought.

"Then when will I reach that natural progression?"

"Focus on improving your accuracy with Phoenix Holy Light Strike first."

Fu Wen glanced at him. "Yesterday, you only hit the target six times out of ten."

"Once you hit ten out of ten, your spirit power will naturally rise."

Ma Hongjun shrank his neck. "Got it..."

Flender watched the three children, the corners of his mouth curling upward.

Shrek Academy was starting to look like a real school.

Three days later.

At dawn, just as the sky was beginning to brighten, the sound of fists and kicks colliding already echoed across the Shrek Academy training grounds.

"Phoenix Holy Light Strike!"

Ma Hongjun let out a loud shout, spreading his arms wide.

The phantom of the Evil Fire Phoenix emerged behind him, its wings condensing several golden *Light Feather*s.

The number was nearly double what it had been a month ago.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!

The *Light Feather*s shot out, striking the wooden targets twenty paces ahead with precision.

Bang, bang, bang!

The wooden targets shattered upon impact, sending splinters flying. Amidst the shockwaves of the explosions, golden light spread out, sweeping away the dampness in the air.

"Nine out of ten!"

Oscar counted from the side and whistled. "Xiao Pang, your accuracy is impressive!"

"Still one short."

Ma Hongjun wiped the sweat from his forehead, looking somewhat dissatisfied. "It only counts as passing once I can do what Brother Wen said—ten out of ten."

"How long will you have to practice for that?"

"I don't know." Ma Hongjun shook his head. "But Brother Wen said, you have to eat one bite at a time and walk one step at a time. You can't rush it."

As the two were talking, Fu Wen walked over from nearby.

He wore a clean, crisp training outfit, with a light sheen of sweat on his forehead and steady breathing.

Clearly, he had already finished a round of training.

"Brother Wen, what did you practice today?"

Ma Hongjun asked curiously.

"Basic training."

Fu Wen spat out the two words calmly.

"Basic training?"

Ma Hongjun was stunned. "Aren't you already level eighteen? You still practice basic training?"

"No matter what level you are, you have to practice it."

Fu Wen looked at him. "Spirit power is spirit power, and the body is the body. If your spirit power rises but your body can't keep up, it's like a castle in the air. One push and it collapses."

Ma Hongjun nodded, deep in thought.

Oscar, standing nearby, chimed in, "Xiao Wen is right. I didn't like practicing basic skills either, thinking that just raising my spirit power was enough. It wasn't until Teacher Zhao beat me up a few times that I realized if you have spirit power but don't know how to use it, you're just a moving punching bag."

"A moving punching bag..."

Ma Hongjun's mouth twitched. "Brother Ao, that metaphor is truly vivid."

"That's right." Oscar puffed out his chest proudly. "That's the experience I gained from getting beaten up."

Fu Wen ignored the two clowns, walked over to the wooden target, crouched down, and carefully examined the marks left by Ma Hongjun.

The explosion points of the Light Feather were distributed around the bullseye; although not yet concentrated enough, it was already much better than a month ago.

"Xiao Pang, your problem isn't accuracy."

Fu Wen stood up and looked at Ma Hongjun: "Your problem is the uneven distribution of your soul power."

"What do you mean?"

Ma Hongjun leaned in closer.

"With your Phoenix Holy Light Strike, you fire so many Light Feather at once, but the power of each one is different."

Fu Wen pointed to the marks of varying depths on the target:

"Look here, some exploded deep, others shallow. This shows that when you release them, your soul power distribution is uneven. The strong ones are too strong, the weak ones too weak. The overall power is greatly compromised."

Ma Hongjun stared at the target for a long while, suddenly enlightened.

"No wonder! I always felt that after firing them, some Light Feather had great power, while others seemed like they were just there to make up the numbers!"

"Yes, that is exactly the reason."

Fu Wen nodded: "For the next phase of training, don't pursue quantity; pursue quality first. Fire fewer at a time and train the power of each one to its maximum. Once you can precisely control the soul power distribution of every single Light Feather, then slowly increase the quantity."