Growing Strong

Ample food, like the richest soil, had begun to fill every member of the Fire Tribe with unprecedented vitality. The changes were especially striking in the growing youngsters, who seemed to look different every day.

The days of sallow faces, emaciated bodies, and ribs that showed one by one were gone. In their place were faces that, though still dark, glowed with a healthy flush, while firm lines of muscle gradually took shape on their arms and legs.

The changes in Wang Yan's younger brothers were the most obvious. Shouchai, once as skinny as a stick of firewood, now had rounded cheeks and some flesh on his arms. Though he could hardly be called fat, the word "skinny" no longer had anything to do with him, and Wang Yan had already begun calling him Zhuangchai in private. The little fellow's strength had grown too; he no longer gasped for breath after just two laps during training as he had at the start.

The changes were even more astonishing in boys like Shibang and Gubang, who had had good foundations to begin with. Shibang had inherited his father Dabang's tall build, and after a month of plentiful meat, he had shot up another stretch. Standing there, he was already close to 1.7 meters tall, almost on par with some of the tribe's adult warriors! His shoulders had broadened and his chest had thickened, and even standing casually, he exuded a fierce air. Gubang had become leaner and more agile, like a young leopard poised to spring.

Wang Yan's own body was also undergoing welcome changes. The weakness of this body when he first transmigrated had long since been swept away, replaced by steadily growing strength and abundant energy. His height had quietly passed 1.6 meters as well, putting him somewhat above average for this era. More importantly, he felt that this body's potential went far beyond that.

Each day, outside of leading the youth squad's training, he made time to go alone to a secluded hillside or stream near the tribe and practice the fighting techniques he had learned in his previous life. Those combat moves buried deep in his memory, paired with his now vigorous young body, gradually began to reveal their power. Dodging, weaving, punching, kicking... he worked to turn memory into muscular instinct.

But what truly delighted him, and formed the foundation on which he could secure his place and survive, was the internal cultivation method of breathing and breath regulation he had learned through a chance encounter in his previous life.

In his previous life, he had been nothing more than an ordinary food delivery rider. His ability to rush about through wind and rain, lift a little more than most people, run a little faster, and even become the district's "order king" had owed not only to his willingness to endure hardship, but in large part to this breathing method, taught to him by an eccentric old Taoist he had met as a child. Back then, he had treated it as nothing more than a health-preserving exercise to strengthen his body, practicing it on and off without finding it particularly miraculous. He had simply felt more energetic than most people and rarely fallen ill.

Yet after transmigrating to this primitive era, whether because the environment of heaven and earth was different or because the pressure of life and death had stirred something within him, he found an unprecedented smoothness when he took up the breathing method again! Every long, deep breath seemed to stir a faint current of qi within his body, nourishing every limb and bone. After practicing, not only did all his fatigue vanish, leaving his whole body warm and indescribably comfortable, but even his five senses became a little sharper.

He had a vague feeling that, even at his current level of having only just "entered the door," dealing with five or six ordinary tribal warriors armed with stone axes should be no problem. If he cultivated steadily for a dozen or more years and reached the "middle stage" described in the method, perhaps even twenty or thirty people would be unable to get near him. Supposedly, if he cultivated for several decades and attained the realm of perfection, taking an enemy's head amid a hundred soldiers would be no difficult feat. He could truly be called a "match for a hundred men"!

This became his greatest trump card and secret. For now, he had no intention of teaching this breathing method to anyone else. For one thing, it was profound and mysterious, requiring the right temperament and comprehension; not everyone could practice it. For another, people's hearts were hard to fathom, and without the assurance of absolute loyalty and meritorious service to the tribe, rashly imparting such powerful strength might not be a good thing. He intended to make it the highest reward, to be bestowed in the future only upon core members who had been tested, were absolutely loyal, and had rendered meritorious service to the tribe.

Besides the series of heaven-high contributions he had made recently, the strong recommendation of Dabang, a hunting squad leader, had played a crucial role in Wang Yan becoming captain and instructor of this twenty-member youth squad. During their last trip north together to look for salt rock, Wang Yan's stamina, perseverance, and calm judgment had made the straightforward Dabang see him in a new light, and after returning, he had praised him repeatedly in front of Jianshi. Chief Jianshi naturally also intended to nurture his increasingly extraordinary eldest son, and had gone with the current, entrusting this future force to Wang Yan's leadership.

Wang Yan's training was well structured. He understood the importance of foundations, and over the past few days, he had mainly led the squad in the most basic endurance and strength exercises. They assembled in the afternoon and first ran laps around the tribe, gradually increasing from the initial three laps to five. Then came strength training such as push-ups, wrestling, and carrying stones.

After training ended, he did not let them scatter all at once. Instead, he took them to find the hunters who had stayed in the tribe that day, either on guard duty or resting, and asked them to teach the most practical fighting and hunting skills. Seeing these lively, eager-to-learn youngsters, the hunting warriors were happy to offer guidance, teaching them how to read animal tracks, use their surroundings to lie concealed, and perform the simplest, most direct wrestling moves and grappling holds.

Wang Yan even organized simple sparring sessions so the boys could get a feel for the techniques through practice. To his surprise, he discovered quite a few promising seedlings among these children.

Aside from the increasingly formidable Shibang, there was a thirteen-year-old boy named Yingmu, whose strength was astonishing and whose build was tall and sturdy. When sparring with Shibang, he could actually trade blows on equal terms! If Wang Yan had not recently been giving Shibang frequent private lessons, teaching him a few techniques for dodging and exerting force, Shibang, who was a year younger, might not have been able to overpower Yingmu in a contest of sheer strength.

Then there was Kuaitui, who truly lived up to his name when he ran, disappearing like a wisp of smoke. He could not have been better suited to scouting and carrying messages. Shimao threw stones with both accuracy and force, Niaodan climbed trees as nimbly as a monkey, and Changteng had a natural interest in and knack for making snares and traps...

These boys were the seeds of the Fire Tribe's future.