Self-Training

Self-Training

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"Young Master, what just happened?" Uncle Fu asked at the dining table.

"Uncle Fu, look at me. Compared to before, is there any difference?" Diya did not answer directly, merely smiling.

"You seem more energetic. You look... you look even more..." Uncle Fu's face showed some difficulty, as though he did not know how to describe Diya at this moment.

"Uncle Fu, do I seem more lively?" Diya said with a smile, unable to hide the joy on his face.

"Yes, yes, that's it—lively. Young Master, you seem much healthier," Uncle Fu said, nodding hurriedly.

"Uncle Fu, I have some good news for you." Diya blinked mysteriously. Only in front of Uncle Fu would he reveal the manner a young man his age should have. "These past few days, ever since I absorbed the Crimson Blood Python's blood in the Twilight Rainforest, I've found that my condition has been getting better and better. Look, by today, the changes are already obvious."

"Really, Young Master? Your body is finally improving?" Uncle Fu rose to his feet in excitement.

"That's right, Uncle Fu. I can feel my body changing every day, getting better and better. Maybe in a few more days, I'll recover to the same state as a normal person. Then you won't have to worry about me anymore." Diya still wore a smile, but inwardly, he apologized to Uncle Fu. It was not that he did not want Uncle Fu to know; the Horadric Cube and Diablo's remnant soul were simply too shocking. If someone found out by accident, they might fall into other dangers. Therefore, whether for his own sake or Uncle Fu's, no one besides himself could know about the Horadric Cube and Diablo's remnant soul. Diya understood that the powerful people in this world possessed all manner of methods.

To those who truly knew better, Diya's words were complete nonsense. Crimson Blood Python blood could indeed improve one's physique, but the effect was minuscule. Only continuous, uninterrupted consumption could produce somewhat noticeable results. However, Diya did not need anyone else to believe him. As long as Uncle Fu believed him and stopped worrying, that was enough. Besides, in a small city like Carlos—

Diya was confident that no one would deliberately investigate him. And in the future, hehe, perhaps when his strength increased, he would no longer need to be so constrained. In this world, with strength, one could turn black into white.

"That's wonderful, Young Master. I was worried that if I grew old one day, whether Adam would be able to take good care of you." Uncle Fu sat back down, though his hands were trembling.

"Uncle Fu, from now on, I should be the one taking care of you," Diya said with a smile. "Oh, right, Uncle Fu. I won't be going out for the next few days. I plan to move around at home and help my body recover faster."

"Very well, Young Master."

After lunch, Diya returned to his room. He had always had the habit of taking an afternoon nap, but now he could not fall asleep no matter what. First, the transformation of his body had left him extremely excited. Second, after the transformation, his energy was especially abundant, so whether he napped or not made no difference.

Diya simply sat up and called for Diablo again, but Diablo gave no response.

"Could Diablo have fallen asleep after using too much strength earlier?" Diya had read many books, so his theoretical knowledge was quite extensive. He also understood that many beings in soul form would indeed replenish themselves through sleep after expending too much energy.

Since Diablo was asleep, Diya turned his thoughts elsewhere. His most urgent task was to gain control over the strength throughout his body within the next few days and adapt to his transformed body. Only then could he go outside without causing unnecessary trouble.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, Diya decided that since he could not sleep, he might as well begin now. It was noon, and although the sun outside was not so scorching because of the season, exercising beneath it would still leave him drenched in sweat.

He might as well stay in his room. Controlling his strength did not require much space. With a flash of silver light, the Flick Sword appeared in Diya's palm. His fingers danced as he controlled the Flick Sword, sending it tumbling between them. Diya had often done this before. Do not underestimate such small movements—they could improve one's control over one's strength.

Silver light flashed as the Flick Sword formed a curtain of blades in Diya's right hand. Suddenly, Diya stopped. In a moment of carelessness, his finger was sliced by the Flick Sword's edge, leaving a wound. Blood immediately seeped out. Diya could not help but marvel. This Flick Sword was truly sharp.

Since his right hand was injured and unsuitable for training, Diya simply switched the Flick Sword to his left hand. He put the injured finger into his mouth and sucked away the blood that had flowed out, then focused on controlling his left hand. With the experience from his right hand, after more than ten seconds of awkward adjustment, his left hand became much more proficient. However, he still could not control the force as freely as before.

"Hiss!"

Without realizing it, his left hand was cut as well, opening another wound. Diya could not help but smile bitterly. He passed the Flick Sword back to his right hand and was about to slide it into his sleeve when he suddenly froze, staring wide-eyed at the fingers of his right hand.

The place where the Flick Sword had cut him earlier was no longer bleeding. There was barely any blood around the wound, and it seemed to be nearly healed, leaving only a tiny slit that would be impossible to notice without close inspection.

Only a dozen or so minutes had passed, yet the wound had healed. From the looks of it, after Diya had sucked away the blood, it had not bled again. This self-healing ability was countless times stronger than before. Diya remembered clearly that in the past, if his finger was cut, it would take one or two days to heal. Now, it had nearly healed in just over ten minutes. This far surpassed ordinary people.

Could this be an ability gained after his body fused with the Hell Fragment? Then did he have other abilities as well? And if he fused with other Hell Fragments, would he gain even better abilities? The more Diya thought about it, the more he looked forward to fusing with other Hell Fragments.

Putting those thoughts aside, Diya looked at the wound on his left hand and focused all his mental strength. Under that mental perception far surpassing that of ordinary people, he could faintly sense the wound on his left hand healing. About ten minutes later, the wound on his left hand had mostly healed as well.

With a faint smile, the silver gleam in Diya's hand began tumbling again. Since he possessed such rapid wound-healing ability, he ought to train even harder and gain control over his body's strength in less time.

Time passed quickly. Training in his room, Diya had no idea how many hours had gone by. The Flick Sword danced between his fingers like an elf, silver flashes producing a dazzling brilliance. It was like an artist performing, yet Diya's solo dance had no audience.

Diya himself sat cross-legged on the bed like an old monk in meditation, his eyes closed and his face calm. Suddenly, the fingers of his right hand flicked, and that silver gleam shot across. His left fingers twitched and caught the silver gleam, sending it tumbling once more. After repeating this several times, when the Flick Sword returned to his right hand, Diya shook his fingers, and the weapon slipped into his sleeve with a swish, vanishing without a trace.

Diya opened his eyes. After this period of training, and after each hand had been injured four times, his control over the Flick Sword had finally returned to a certain level. However, it was still some distance from his former level. Then again, he had not possessed this kind of stamina before, able to practice for so long.

"Young Master, it's time for dinner," Uncle Fu's voice sounded once more. Only then did Diya realize that he had spent so long in his room. He abruptly stood up and nearly fell. Sitting cross-legged unconsciously for several hours had made both his legs numb. After moving around a little and stamping his feet, he had mostly recovered within a dozen seconds. Then Diya opened the door and walked out of the room.

In the blink of an eye, nine days passed. Every day, Diya trained himself diligently. He rose early in the morning, jumping about in the courtyard, throwing punches and kicking his legs. After the transformation, Diya discovered that his memory had improved greatly. Many things from the past had become clearer, and he had nearly reached the point of never forgetting anything he saw.

On the first day, Diya only practiced footwork in the courtyard—moving forward and backward, shifting left and right, and so on. Whether moving slowly or suddenly accelerating, he practiced diligently. At noon, he trained his control of the Flick Sword in his room. As for the evenings, he chatted with Uncle Fu. After Uncle Fu went to sleep, Diya would do some simple exercises in the courtyard, such as punching and kicking.

After doing this for the first three days, on the fourth day, Diya even went behind the house and carried several stones into the courtyard. Each stone weighed about fifty jin. Diya held one stone in each hand and performed weighted exercises, much to Uncle Fu's delight. The old Diya could not even bear lifting five jin.

On the fifth day, perhaps finding the fifty-jin stones too light, Diya deliberately tied two stones together. Holding one hundred jin in each hand, he lifted the stones and performed weighted exercises once again.

The spiritual energy in this world was abundant. Ordinary people generally lived to ninety or even over a hundred years old, and their physical fitness was considerably better than that of people on Earth.

On Earth, an adult man with no training might find it difficult to lift one hundred jin with both hands. In this world, however, an equally untrained man could lift one hundred jin with both hands much more easily. Some with better physical fitness, or those who often did manual labor, would have no problem lifting one hundred jin with one hand. On Earth, lifting one hundred jin with one hand would still be quite difficult unless a man had received specialized training. The difference was very obvious. At present, although Diya found lifting one hundred jin with one hand somewhat difficult, it showed that his current physical fitness was already no weaker than that of a strong adult man.