Linley watched, entranced. The sugar ladle seemed alive in the old craftsman's hand, golden threads of sugar dancing and twining as a lifelike little tiger neared completion. Suddenly, he felt a gaze on his back. It held no sharp hostility, but it was unusually focused and intense, as though scrutinizing and confirming something after a long separation, fixed firmly on him and Uncle Hillman.
Puzzled, he turned and looked toward the source of that feeling. Across the street, beyond a fried-cake stall, a tall young man stood quietly. The yellow lamplight outlined his straight-backed figure. He wore ordinary coarse-cloth clothes, but they could not conceal his lean, capable, steady bearing. There was little expression on his face, but his eyes shone particularly brightly in the night as he stared at them.
He looks a little familiar... Linley frowned slightly, but the gates of memory refused to open just yet. He himself had changed considerably over the past six months, encountering magic and seeing a wider world. Yet the image of the quiet, stubborn playmate he had grown up with in Wushan Town did not quite match this composed young man before him.
"What is it, Linley?" Noticing something amiss, Hillman followed Linley's gaze and spotted the young man as well. Years of military service made him instinctively grow alert. Although there was no malice in the stranger's eyes, such unexpected attention on the unfamiliar streets of the Royal Capital inevitably stirred suspicion.
"Nothing, Uncle Hillman." Linley shook his head, suppressing that odd feeling. "I might have been mistaken. That person just looked a little familiar."
Hillman patted his shoulder. "You probably were. Fenlai City is so big, and this is our first visit. How could we run into someone we know? Come on, let's look around some more." Despite his words, he quietly adjusted his course, leading Linley naturally into the crowd while watching behind them from the corner of his eye.
Sure enough, the young man followed. He did not walk quickly, but maintained a fixed distance.
Hillman's heart tightened, and he hesitated no longer. "Stay close," he told Linley softly, then abruptly quickened his pace. Like two nimble fish, they wove swiftly through the bustling crowd. A few turns took them out of the noisy food street and into a relatively quiet alley with few pedestrians.
Behind them, those steady footsteps continued to follow, neither hurried nor slow.
At the end of the alley was a small clearing piled with miscellaneous objects, bathed in cold moonlight. Hillman stopped abruptly and turned, shielding Linley behind him. His right hand had quietly settled on the hilt of the broadsword on his back. His eyes were as sharp as a hawk's as he watched the tall young man emerge slowly from the shadows at the alley's entrance.
"Who are you? Why are you following us?" Hillman's voice was low and forceful, his demand for answers brooking no argument. Linley said nothing, supporting the sleeping Bebe in his arms as he watched Loa.
The young man stopped three paces away. Moonlight illuminated his face, revealing strong features and calm eyes, though the faintest hint of a teasing smile seemed to linger at his lips. He did not answer Hillman's questions. His gaze merely swept over the two of them before settling on Hillman's face.
Suddenly, he moved!
His body dipped slightly, and his right foot drove hard against the ground. He shot forward like an arrow loosed from a bow, so fast that he left a faint afterimage in the moonlight! What made Hillman's pupils contract slightly, however, was the momentum of that charge, its unrelenting advance gathering every ounce of strength into a single point. It instantly reminded him of something exceedingly familiar: the most basic thrusting technique taught during training in Wushan Town, only purer and fiercer!
The young man clenched his right fist, his arm like a taut bowstring, and snapped it forward at the end of his charge! His fist tore through the air with a shrill whistle like a sword blade slicing the wind, aimed straight at Hillman's face!
It was not a killing move, but a test-yet it was a merciless test delivered with all his strength!
Hillman's vigilance peaked the instant the young man attacked. But then that deeply familiar way of exerting force, that "intent" of twisting the whole body's strength into a single penetrating thrust, and the mischievous gleam that flashed through the young man's eyes made his taut nerves abruptly relax. What surged up in their place was immense surprise and a feeling of not knowing whether to laugh or cry.
"You little rascal!" Hillman growled. Without dodging, he raised his left arm, the muscles of his forearm bunching like a solid shield as he met that "thrusting punch" with precision.
Thud!
With a dull impact, fist met forearm. Hillman did not budge, while the recoil sent Loa sliding back half a step. Yet the surprise in Hillman's eyes only deepened. The force behind this boy's fist was absurdly heavy! And that concentrated, penetrating power was far purer and more condensed than the thrust he had taught in Wushan Town! This was definitely not a blow a rank 3 warrior could deliver!
After that probing strike, Loa did not pause. His footwork shifted, as nimble as when he practiced swordsmanship in the courtyard, and he circled Hillman swiftly, throwing one punch after another. At times, his fists came like a driving storm, quick punches striking in succession and forcing Hillman to raise his hands to block, producing a dense series of dull thuds like rain beating on banana leaves. At others, he gathered strength and sank his waist before driving out a powerful, heavy punch, carrying the unmistakable weight of a two-handed sword's chopping stroke and making the air tremble.
At first, Hillman used only strength and speed around rank 4, wanting to gauge the boy's abilities. But as Loa's attacks unfolded, he grew increasingly astonished. How could this be the boy who had only just reached rank 3 half a year ago, whose movements had still been a little immature? His attacks were decisive and ruthless, his transitions swift and fluid, and he controlled his strength freely, releasing and withdrawing it at will. Rarer still were his composure and perceptiveness in combat, far beyond his age. In particular, those sudden transitions from rapid punches to heavy blows were timed perfectly. Without Hillman's wealth of experience, he would nearly have suffered a small setback.
Impressive... Hillman praised him inwardly and stopped holding back. He stirred his rank 6 warrior battle-qi slightly, and a powerful, solid aura rose from his body. Rather than blocking passively, he took the offensive. A punch that looked slow arrived first despite being launched later, cutting precisely into a gap between Loa's quick punches and knocking them aside. A seemingly light palm strike sealed off every variation of Loa's heavy punch, forcing him to withdraw it.
The pressure surged! Loa felt as though Uncle Hillman had become a moving mountain, every move carrying irresistible strength and terrifyingly precise anticipation. His quick punches were easily deflected, while his heavy blows felt as though they were hitting an iron wall. Yet there was not a trace of panic in his eyes. Instead, his fighting spirit burned even hotter. He poured everything he had learned about Gale Thrust and the two-handed sword principle of "power begins at the waist" into his punches and kicks, doing his utmost to hold his own under Hillman's immense pressure and searching for an opening that scarcely existed.
The two darted and sprang across the moonlit clearing, the wind of their punches weaving through the shadows of their kicks as dull impacts rang out incessantly. Although Hillman was mostly guiding the fight and feeding Loa moves, its intensity had already far surpassed an ordinary spar.
Finally, when Loa tried to attack beneath Hillman's ribs from a tricky angle, Hillman's arm slammed down like an iron gate, blocking the blow precisely. At the same time, his other hand shot out and knocked Loa back.
"That's enough, you little brat." Hillman withdrew and stepped back, looking both annoyed and amused. "You've tested your strength. Are you ever going to stop? And you kept going for my face! I don't remember telling you back in town that hitting faces was allowed in a spar."
"Heh!" Loa rubbed his forehead, which had reddened slightly from the flick. At last, an openly brilliant smile spread across his face, filled with the joy of reunion and a hint of smugness at having pulled off a prank. "Long time no see, Uncle Hillman! Linley!"
Linley had long since been left gaping. From Loa's sudden attack to their lightning-fast exchange and Uncle Hillman's effortless final move knocking him back, the entire encounter had lasted only a dozen or so breaths, yet it had shaken him deeply. He had been completely unable to follow their movements. Only when Loa stopped and called his name with that familiar yet somehow unfamiliar smile did Linley suddenly recover from his shock.
"Loa?! Is it really you?!" Linley's voice brimmed with incredulous delight. He hurried forward and studied the tall, straight-backed young man before him, trying to find traces of the quiet companion he remembered in those resolute features and calm eyes. "You... how have you changed so much? And become so... strong?"
"Come on, come on. Let's not stand around here talking." In excellent spirits, Loa slung an arm around the still somewhat dazed Linley's shoulders and smiled at Hillman. "Uncle Hillman, I know a good restaurant up ahead. Let's talk over a meal! My treat!"
An hour later, the three settled into a private room at a clean, reasonably priced little restaurant. The table was laden with hearty dishes: a whole roast chicken, glistening with oil and wonderfully fragrant, a large braised river fish, a plate of beef in sauce, several seasonal vegetables, and a pot of warmed local rice wine.
Loa filled Hillman's cup and his own with wine, then poured Linley some tea. "Come, Uncle Hillman, Linley. Here's to our reunion in Fenlai City! I'll drink first!" Loa raised his cup toward Hillman, then tipped back his head and drained it. The wine was sharp, but turned into a warm stream as it went down his throat. With his current rank 4 warrior physique and his control over qi, he could dispel that little touch of intoxication in an instant, but he did not. Why spoil the mood when he was so happy?
Hillman shook his head with a smile and readily drained his own cup. He looked at Loa, his eyes filled with gratification. "Good lad! What a fine lad! Those moves just now were no ordinary thing. You're... a rank 4 warrior now, aren't you?"
Loa set down his cup and nodded openly. "Yes. I broke through not long ago, and I've more or less stabilized it now. Nothing gets past your eyes."
Beside him, Linley froze with his teacup in hand, his eyes filling with shock once more. A rank 4 warrior! Even Uncle Hillman, the strongest man in Wushan Town, was only a rank 6 warrior, yet Loa had advanced from rank 3 to rank 4 in just half a year! That rate of progress was simply astounding. Remembering that he was still working toward becoming a rank 2 warrior through physical training, Linley could not help feeling a complicated mix of emotions: happiness for his friend, along with a barely perceptible sense of urgency.
"It was just luck, and thanks in large part to the foundation you gave me back then, Uncle Hillman, as well as... a few opportunities." Loa glossed over his experiences developing "weapon combat battle-qi" and fighting death matches on the black market, then briefly described his life since coming to Fenlai City: how he had struggled to gain a foothold at the Mercenary Guild, how he had luckily found work and somewhere to settle at the Blacksmith Shop, and how he had tempered himself by taking missions while working as a blacksmith. His tone was matter-of-fact, but both Linley and Hillman could imagine the hardship and difficulty involved.
As he spoke, the front of Linley's clothes stirred, and a little pitch-black head poked out. A pair of shiny black eyes first looked warily at Loa, then the rich aroma of the roast chicken on the table caught his attention, and his nose began twitching incessantly.
"Oh? This is..." Loa's eyes lit up as he looked curiously at the exceptionally lively little black rat. Naturally, his memories of his "previous life" told him all about the famous Bebe-the divine beast, the "God-Eater Rat," who would one day roam Hell and the other planes! But seeing this little fellow whose fate was intertwined with Linley's in person felt entirely different. Those lively eyes and that alert manner were nothing like an ordinary pet's.
"His name is Bebe. He's my good companion," Linley introduced him with a smile. At the same time, he communicated mentally with Bebe, telling him that this was a good friend he had grown up with, not a bad person.
Hearing that, Bebe squeaked twice at Loa. The wariness faded from his little eyes, replaced by a measure of curiosity, and he even extended a small paw and waved in greeting.
Loa was delighted. This was someone incredibly powerful to rely on in the future... no, a good brother! He immediately called out to the waiter, "Waiter, another roast chicken! Have it chopped up and brought over!" Soon, a large plate of fragrant roast chicken arrived at the table. Loa pushed it toward Bebe and smiled. "Go ahead, little fellow. Linley is my brother, so you're my brother too. Help yourself!"
Bebe gave a cheerful squeak and hopped straight to the edge of the plate. Grabbing a piece of chicken in his little paws, he began gnawing it with relish. The sight made all three laugh, and the atmosphere grew even warmer.
The conversation naturally turned to the following day's magic test. Anticipation and determination shone in Linley's eyes. Loa also said that he might take the test to see whether he had any talent for magic.
Looking at the two outstanding young men before him, Hillman was filled with emotion. He was happy tonight and had drunk quite a bit, a tipsy flush coloring his face as he patted Loa's shoulder. "Good, good! Seeing you like this puts my mind at ease! Do your best at the test tomorrow. Whatever the result, as long as you walk your path firmly, one step at a time, you'll do well!"
As the night deepened, Loa did not keep them any longer, mindful that they needed to conserve their energy for the important test tomorrow. He hurried to pay the bill, then escorted Hillman and Linley to a clean, tidy inn nearby and paid for their rooms in advance.
"Get some rest, Linley. See you at the testing grounds tomorrow," Loa told him at the inn's entrance.
"Yes! See you tomorrow, Loa!" Linley nodded emphatically.
Only after watching Loa's tall, straight-backed figure disappear around the street corner did Hillman, comfortably drunk, remind Linley a few times to rest early and retire to his own room. He could simply use battle-qi to evaporate the alcohol tomorrow morning. He was happy tonight, so there was nothing wrong with having a few drinks.
Linley returned to his room, but did not go straight to bed. He walked to the window, pushed it open, and looked down at the street outside, where lights still glimmered and people still passed. Fenlai City's nights were bustling and noisy, utterly different from Wushan Town's tranquility.
"What is it? Has our little Linley taken a blow to his confidence?" A warm, aged voice sounded as Doehring Cowart's translucent figure appeared beside Linley, a kindly smile on his face.
Linley turned and shook his head with a wry smile. "Grandpa Doehring, I haven't lost confidence. It's just... I really am surprised. I never imagined Loa would improve so quickly. He's already a rank 4 warrior." He paused and touched his arm, which had grown considerably sturdier. Without battle-qi to nourish his body, relying purely on physical training really was too slow.
"Hehe, that friend of yours certainly has exceptional talent for warrior training." Doehring Cowart stroked his beard, admiration in his eyes. "But little Linley, there's no need at all to belittle yourself. As for your talent for magic, I guarantee that even ten Loas couldn't match you. Your future path is destined to differ from his, and it certainly won't be inferior. Don't forget, you still have an old Saint like me by your side to guide you."
Listening to Grandpa Doehring's gentle, confident words, the slight disturbance in Linley's heart quickly settled. Yes, everyone had their own path. Loa was advancing by leaps and bounds along the warrior's path, while he, too, would enter the halls of magic. They were both striving toward their own goals.
"I understand, Grandpa Doehring!" Linley's eyes grew bright and determined again. "I'll keep working hard!"
He no longer lingered over the bustling scene outside. Turning back to the bed, he sat cross-legged and soon entered deep meditation, gathering every bit of energy for tomorrow's crucial test in the way unique to magi.
Doehring Cowart watched the meditating Linley with gratification, his figure slowly fading away. In a corner of the room, Bebe patted his round, well-fed little belly contentedly, curled up on a soft pillow, and began to snore faintly as well.
The autumn night breeze brushed past the window frame, carrying a breath of distant places.
Tomorrow would be a day that decided countless people's fates. And their stories would all turn to a brand-new page in that vast White Square.
Before you continue