Chapter 11

They had once been clearly distinct, but now they had fused into the same bodily instinct.

The counterattack began.

Short blades, whip-like cords, and staff shadows shifted forms within the space of a breath.

He was no longer merely defending. Every block concealed a follow-up counterattack, and every dodge laid the groundwork for an offensive route.

The figures crossing over the stone floor grew faster and faster. The sounds of impact gradually changed from disorderly to rhythmic, like two iron hammers striking the same stubborn piece of metal in turn.

The burly figure suddenly leaped back, driving his staff heavily into the ground.

"Stop."

Their heavy breathing echoed between them.

Shock nearly overflowed from those wide-open eyes.

He stared at Zhao Yu for several seconds. His lips moved, but in the end, he only forced out a low murmur like distant thunder:

"This defies reason."

Zhao Yu's responses had long surpassed the level of a beginner.

Even ordinary apprentice sorcerers would likely have struggled to withstand what he was doing now.

If Wong had not known his own status as an instructor, he might almost have imagined that this young man could truly threaten him.

Because the other man's counterattacks were becoming denser and denser, their rhythm faster and faster.

A soft sigh escaped Wong's lips.

He knew he could no longer limit himself to demonstrating basic spells.

"Fight!"

He spoke in a low voice, a certain weight restrained within it. "Fight as though you'll lose your life in the next moment!"

The staff suddenly struck with greater force, cleaving toward Zhao Yu with a howl of wind.

Zhao Yu was forced to step back and block, but at that moment he saw his opponent abruptly retreat. A golden-brown glow spread beneath his boots, and Wong had already borrowed the momentum to leap up, flipping through the air to land behind him.

A dull thud rang out as Zhao Yu fell to the ground.

Only then did the unfinished sentence gently fall into place. "...Because one day, reality will force you to do so."

Dust stirred faintly.

Zhao Yu lay on his back, looking up at the instructor standing before him, his eyes reflecting undisguised admiration.

This was a true sorcerer, he thought. Even his close-quarters combat was this clean and decisive.

That look made Wong turn his face away.

The tips of his ears seemed faintly warm.

Truthfully, he had used a somewhat opportunistic method just now. It was hardly glorious.

Wong looked again at the young man who had risen from the ground, an almost imperceptible complexity passing over his expression.

Such fluctuations rarely appeared on that usually expressionless face, enough to show the turmoil in his heart.

Zhao Yu had not only displayed exceptional talent in magical study.

Even more unexpectedly, the boy seemed to be born knowing how to fight.

As an instructor who had experienced countless real battles, Wong knew better than anyone that certain instincts could not be gained through training alone.

Despite possessing strength on the same level, Zhao Yu had been unable to swiftly suppress his opponent.

That had forced the veteran sorcerer to draw upon deeper power.

In a sense, this had already strayed beyond the bounds of a fair contest.

As one of Kamar-Taj's few **masters, he actually needed to increase his power to subdue a sorcerer apprentice. Anyone in such a situation would find their expression complicated.

Zhao Yu noticed Wong's gaze.

The emotions intertwined on that face were far too intense, making an uneasy chill rise in his heart.

That look reminded him of a doctor's silence before a terminally ill patient, cold enough to send shivers down his spine.

"**Master, did I make some mistake?"

Unease showed in Zhao Yu's voice.

Logically speaking, there should have been no problem with the cultivation method bestowed by the system.

But why was Wong looking at him like that?

Even when facing Doctor Strange, Wong had always remained calm.

Seeing him suddenly like this, Zhao Yu could not help feeling apprehensive.

"There is no problem. You did well."

Wong paused. "It's simply that certain details are not precise enough."

"Get up. I'll adjust how you exert your strength."

Wong's face became solemn once more.

Combat techniques were ultimately methods of releasing strength scientifically.

Through specific methods, they pushed the body's potential to its limit and unleashed considerable destructive force. Even if Zhao Yu had grasped the method, how could he compare to Wong, who had immersed himself in this field for decades?

After the practical sparring, Wong began correcting his movements one by one.

"Straighten your arm, like this."

"No, use the strength of your legs..."

Wong's instruction was far from gentle.

Before his words had even faded, the wooden stick had already struck with a whistle of wind.

Zhao Yu did not feel tired.

Pain came from his joints, yet he felt an unusual satisfaction.

Of course, it was not because he had any preference for pain—it was because the gains he was receiving were simply too abundant.

"Watoo Wand has understood Wong's guidance and entered a state of comprehension."

"Your understanding of wand combat techniques is deepening."

"Kamar-Taj Combat Arts rejoices at receiving guidance."

"Kamar-Taj Combat Arts proficiency has increased."

The system's voice sounded intermittently in his mind, repeating every so often.

He had only been guided for such a short while.

Yet his combat arts were already nearing the edge of a breakthrough!

Magic could indeed cultivate itself.

But that speed of progress had never been considered fast.

At the beginning, it had taken a full three days just to barely master a magical shield.

Further improvement afterward had been even more difficult.

However—

His combat arts had directly crossed a threshold.

This instructor's strength truly lived up to his reputation!

The corners of Zhao Yu's mouth curled up unconsciously.

Wong, standing opposite him, felt rather conflicted.

He realized that he might have misjudged things again.

The talent this young man displayed exceeded expectations.

Every movement only needed to be demonstrated once.

The other man could immediately reproduce it in full.

That was something almost never seen in others.

After all, when it came to combat techniques—

The body's memory was far more important than the mind's commands.

Many habits formed in daily life—

Would often become fatal openings during a fight.

And such habits were usually extremely difficult to correct.

Yet Zhao Yu had done it.

He had not only adjusted his body's ingrained momentum in one go.

He had also completely imprinted the movements of the combat system.

If the Supreme Sorcerer had not personally confirmed this child's condition—

Wong would almost have concluded that the little fellow before him was some kind of anomaly.

"Zhao Yu, you may stop."

"Mastery of combat techniques has never been achieved overnight."

"It requires day after day of tempering, and it also requires the body to grow in tandem."

"You must persist."

"Kamidar will prepare the materials needed for your medicinal bath."

Wong's voice fell steadily.

"Understood, Master Wong."

Zhao Yu lowered his head in a respectful posture.

At that moment, the bones throughout his body felt as though they had been broken apart and reassembled, while every inch of muscle burned with sharp **.

Yet a strange sense of exhilaration churned in his chest.

The arduous cultivation of recent days had already transformed him completely.

He was certain that if he faced his past self now, victory or defeat would be decided in an instant.

A cool, warm current was slowly seeping through his limbs and bones, repairing those invisible injuries.

The corners of Zhao Yu's mouth rose unconsciously.

"That's enough for today."

"This set of combat arts will be enough for you to digest for a while."

"It is not merely a set of offensive and defensive movements, but also a method of tempering the body."

"Compared to the basic training of your apprentice stage, this is a deeper form of tempering."

Wong explained the key points one by one.

Zhao Yu silently memorized every word.

Then he bowed in farewell, raised his hand to draw open a spinning ring of light, and stepped directly into his own quarters.

Teleportation magic really was convenient enough to become addictive.

If he had not worried about seeming rash and impolite, he would not even have wanted to walk those few steps. He would have liked nothing better than to open the portal directly into Wong's study.

Hot water washed over his body, taking away some of his exhaustion.

He fell onto the bed on his back, as though even the strength to move a finger had been drained from him.

He was truly exhausted.

"Ding!"

"The Kamar-Taj Combat Arts you practice has noticed your slacking, and its mood has suddenly plummeted."

"Your Kamar-Taj Combat Arts cultivation progress has slowed significantly!"

"Your Watoo Wand has fallen into deep dejection because it is not being held in your palm."

The Watoo Wand showed no response to his guidance.

His knuckles made a faint rubbing sound as he clenched his fist.

He sprang up from the edge of the bed, the sensation of fabric peeling away from his skin still lingering on his back.

That combat art truly carried a certain undeniable weight, and was harder to please than the magical protective gear he had encountered before.

Zhao Yu had no choice but to move to the ** of the room and let his limbs begin moving to the rhythm of that invisible force within him.

Only then did the stiffness in his movements gradually fade.

As for that wand, there was nothing he could do about it for now.

Apprentices were expressly forbidden from coming into contact with magical weapons.

Being allowed to practice under Wong's tacit approval had already crossed the line.

Since the wand refused to respond, he could only turn his attention toward training his body itself.

Wong had explained it this way: it was not merely a method of fighting, but closer to an ancient art of tempering flesh and blood.

With every stretch and contraction, it allowed him to sense minute changes from deep within his muscles and tissues—strength was accumulating bit by bit, like water slowly seeping into sand.

The continued practice did not bring the exhaustion he had expected.

Instead, a warm and unobstructed sensation traveled through his joints.

Naturally, it could not compare to the almost autonomous smoothness of the wand's active guidance, but this combat art seemed to have a temperament of its own.

If he merely followed passively, his progress would stagnate as though trapped in mud.

He could only rise and make his body cooperate with that inner rhythm.

Fortunately, Zhao Yu had long been accustomed to being a vessel.

He did not need to focus. He only needed to provide a body, and the cultivation would continue operating on its own.

Just as he mechanically repeated a certain turning motion, knocking came from the other side of the door.

The hinges turned, revealing Kamidar's face.

"Master?"

Zhao Yu turned aside to make room, his fingers already reaching for the edge of the tea tin. "Please, come in."

Steam from hot water rose between the two of them.

When the metal case opened, its hinges gave a faint scrape.

More than a dozen transparent containers were arranged neatly inside, filled with thick green liquid that gleamed beneath the light like mineral crystals.

Zhao Yu's gaze swept over those test tubes—rather than healing potions, they looked more like ** samples in some kind of culture dish.

"Add these when you soak."

The elder standing opposite him said, his sleeve cuffs swaying slightly with the motion, "It will help repair those invisible cracks inside your body."

Zhao Yu accepted the case.

Its silvery-white shell felt cool to the touch, with faint scuff marks along the edges.

He looked up, a note of probing in his voice. "Kamar-Taj prepares things this... modern as well?"

The elder laughed, the lines at the corners of his eyes deepening. "Did you think we only guarded ancient books and candles?"

He reached out and adjusted the angle of an instrument on the table. Its metal components clicked crisply. "The laws of the world have never manifested in only one form.

Devices powered by gears and electric currents, and fluctuations of energy stirred by spells, are both, in essence, applications of the world's laws."

The room was very quiet.

The faint sound of machinery operating drifted in from outside the window, like the continuous low hum of some enormous piece of equipment.

Zhao Yu noticed several stacks of notes piled in the corner. The cover of the top one bore intricate geometric diagrams, while several precision electronic components lay scattered beside it.

"I have lived for so many years,"

the elder's voice pulled him back to reality, "and the most important thing I have learned is not to put fences around your understanding."

He walked to the bookshelf, his fingertips brushing across volumes bound in all manner of styles before finally stopping on a thick leather-bound book.

A small LCD screen was embedded in its spine, where pale blue runes were currently flowing.

Zhao Yu felt the corners of his mouth twitch despite himself.

How interesting. A man who dealt with ancient incantations all year round was now reminding him not to cling stubbornly to preconceived notions.

He recalled certain sights he had seen before—warriors armed with technology, whose creations could even withstand impacts powerful enough to tear apart stars.

There had never been any clear boundaries in this world.

"I understand."

Zhao Yu held the case securely, the green liquid inside its tubes gently sloshing and casting shifting reflections.

As he turned to leave, he paused again. "Do these nutrient solutions need to be mixed with water at a specific temperature?"

"About forty degrees is best."

The elder's answer came from behind him, accompanied by the sound of turning pages. "Temperatures that are too high will destroy the active ingredients.

The detailed instructions are engraved on the inside of the case lid."

Zhao Yu lowered his head to inspect it and indeed found a line of tiny inscription beside the hinge.

The lettering was elegant cursive, but its contents were a precise table of chemical ratios.

He closed the lid, and the metal clasp snapped shut with a crisp sound.

Master Kamidar's reminder made Zhao Yu bow once more in thanks.

He knew that he was no longer a student under this mentor's guidance, and that the other man had not needed to come personally to remind him of these matters.