The village was not the same.


    Even after four weeks, grief clung to Pine Village like a second skin, woven into every quiet moment, every whispered conversation, every cautious glance toward the darkened forest beyond the wooden walls. The scent of burnt wood and dried blood had long faded, but the weight of loss remained.


    The villagers carried on, because what else could they do?


    The broken homes had been patched up, but the people… they were still wounded.


    The militia had doubled their watch, taking shifts at all hours, ensuring they would never be taken by surprise again. The gates were now reinforced, and small wooden barriers had been erected at various entry points to slow down any future attackers.


    Even the merchants who once passed through with ease now approached the village with hesitation, their wary eyes flickering over the reinforced defenses and the hardened expressions of the villagers.


    No one felt safe.


    Even after four weeks, Pine Village had yet to recover.


    That night still haunted Feiyin.


    The clash of blades, the scent of blood, the cold weight of the enemy’s body as he struck him down…


    His first kill.


    It replayed in his mind over and over, no matter how hard he tried to push it away.


    The night after the battle, when everything had finally settled and the fires had died down, he broke.


    Alone in their home, his small body shook with silent sobs, his hands gripping his blanket so tightly his fingers turned white.


    Then, warmth surrounded him.


    Strong arms pulled him close.


    His father’s voice, deep and steady, rumbled against his ear.


    "You did the right thing."


    Feiyin’s fingers curled against his father’s robe, trembling.


    "I''m proud of you."


    A choked sound escaped Feiyin’s throat. “I… I didn’t want to… but I had to…”


    Cai Feng’s grip tightened ever so slightly.


    "I would have liked for you to grow more before you witnessed something like this." His father’s voice was calm, but there was an undeniable sorrow beneath it.


    "But such is the way of the world."


    Feiyin squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his forehead against his father’s chest.


    For the first time, he let himself be a child.


    And Cai Feng held him until his body stopped shaking.


    The next morning, he did not wake.


    His body, exhausted beyond its limits, had simply shut down.


    For an entire day and night, he slept without stirring.


    His mother had placed cool cloths over his forehead, smoothing his hair as she watched over him in silence.


    When he finally woke, the first thing he saw was his father, standing by the doorway with his arms crossed.


    His mother sat beside him, brushing his hair back gently.


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    "You slept for a whole day, sweetheart."


    Feiyin blinked slowly, his mind still hazy.


    Then, the memories rushed back, and he sat up sharply.


    His father gave him a long look. “Are you ready to get up?”


    Feiyin swallowed, his chest tightening.


    And then he nodded.


    Because he was.


    Because he had to be.


    Because the village still needed to be protected.


    He refused to be weak ever again.


    His training intensified.


    His body, his mind, his inner strength—he sharpened all of it.


    Each morning, he threw himself into his training with unwavering focus, repeating his postures, his breathing, his drills with precision and determination.


    He observed the oscillations around him even more closely, using them to guide his movements, to refine his techniques, to improve every small detail he could.


    The militia trained harder too.


    The men who had survived were different now.


    They fought with a fierce edge, as if trying to make up for the comrades they had lost.


    Jiang Hu pushed them harder, his usual blunt manner even more gruff than before. Sun Ke, once playful and relaxed, now trained with a ferocity that surprised even Feiyin.


    And then, one morning—


    Sun Ke broke through.


    A pulse of energy surged through the training ground, and all heads turned as Sun Ke gasped, his body trembling.


    A faint, almost invisible glow surrounded him, a sign that his first meridians had opened.


    Jiang Hu let out a deep breath, clapping Sun Ke on the back. “Took you long enough.”


    Sun Ke let out a breathless laugh, his face flushed with excitement. “I—I did it.”


    The rest of the militia cheered.


    Even Feiyin smiled, watching as Sun Ke tested his new control, his stance more stable, his strikes more fluid.


    This was what it meant to grow stronger.


    This was what it meant to move forward.


    And Feiyin would not be left behind.


    After four weeks of relentless training, Feiyin felt it—


    The moment his body finally reached completion.


    His movements were fluid, seamless, his control over his inner strength more precise than ever.


    His muscles, bones, blood, marrow, and skin—they had all been forged to their peak.


    And when he tested his inner strength, the air shuddered around him.


    5000 kg.


    He had done it.


    He had reached the pinnacle of body tempering.


    His father stood before him, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.


    Feiyin let out a slow breath, steadily channeling his strength into his limbs.


    Then, with a single movement—


    He drove his fist into the ground.


    The earth cracked beneath him, a spiderweb of fissures spreading outwards.


    A long silence followed.


    Then, Cai Feng smiled.


    It was small, barely there. But Feiyin saw it.


    "Good."


    That was all his father said.


    But it was all Feiyin needed.


    He had done it.


    But he knew—this was only the beginning.