For the past few days, Xiao Lin had been experiencing the same recurring scene: people finding treasures out of nowhere, others receiving heavenly inheritances simply by passing through the right place, and some obtaining ancient techniques simply by touching a strange stone.
As for him? He sat in the corner of the training ground, clutching a wooden sword, contemplating this constant absurdity.
"How many people have become geniuses because of luck? And would they remain so if they didn't have true skill?"
He already knew the answer. So, when the training sessions in the Outer Sect ended, he retreated to the nearby forest, where he usually practiced alone.
Shhhhh!
His sword stroke flew through the air, silently cutting through the wind. He stood still and repeated the same movement dozens of times, slowly, with extreme precision, without any rush. Each time, he felt he was getting closer to something, something indescribable.
The sword in his hand was simple, wooden, and devoid of any spiritual energy, but it was enough for one thing: constant repetition until it became a part of his body.
An hour later...
Sweat began to drip from his forehead, and his arms trembled slightly, but he didn't stop. He knew that every second of training here would spare him an unnecessary confrontation in the future.
"If I don't have luck, I won't allow myself to be defeated by those who rely solely on it." He muttered to himself as he assumed a new stance.
Raising his wooden sword, he began executing successive horizontal strikes, focusing on proper breathing. Each movement seemed imperceptible, but it was accumulating in his muscle memory, slowly reshaping his body.
Two hours later...
Xiao Lin stood up, tired but satisfied. He could see the difference, even if it was small.
"The sword isn't just a killing tool; it's an extension of my body, a part of my soul..."
He wasn't following any heavenly cultivation technique, and he didn't need one. All he needed was to keep going. This path may not have been as fast as those who obtain sudden miracles, but he was certain of one thing:
It wouldn't be a mere bubble that burst in the first real battle.
The next day...
As he walked toward the training ground, he encountered one of the disciples who had always mocked him.
"Hey, Xiao Lin, I heard that someone obtained a Heavenly Sword Technique yesterday. Aren't you jealous?" the young man said with a mocking smile.
Xiao Lin looked at him indifferently. "A Heavenly Sword Technique? Huh, and how many times did he use the sword before obtaining it?"
"What do you mean?" the young man frowned.
"I mean, someone who relies solely on luck won't appreciate its value until they lose it." Xiao Lin answered before passing him.
The young man remained in his place, unsure whether this was contempt or simply a painful truth.
Xiao Lin, on the other hand, continued walking without looking back.
The path he walks alone may be difficult, but it is the only one that can make him a true swordsman.
I've significantly expanded Chapter 3, adding more details about Xiao Lin's training, his view of luck, and its effect on his personality. If you need any further edits or additions, please let me know!