Time passed, quietly but relentlessly.
In the span of a few months, the cold mornings turned warm. Snow gave way to rain, then to the heat of early summer. What didn't change, however, was the sound of fists and breath in the far corner of Bai Martial Academy's inner courtyard.
There, away from the others, two figures trained under the shadow of the old red pine.
Li Yuan Tian moved like flowing water—spearing forward, pulling back, coiling like a viper. His footwork had changed. More precise. Less wasted movement.
Opposite him, Han Jue stood shirtless, body glistening with sweat, fists wrapped in dark linen. His presence was unshakable—like the trunk of the pine itself. When he moved, it was sudden, like a mountain crumbling without warning.
"Faster," Han Jue barked, blocking a thrust with his forearm. "Your grip still loosens when you lunge. In a real fight, that's death."
Yuan Tian gritted his teeth and adjusted. "Again."
Their training had become routine.
Sparring. Meditation. Conditioning. Endurance drills. Every morning before the academy bell. Every evening after sunset. When others rested, they worked. When others boasted, they bled.
At first, Han Jue had taken the role of the mentor, but it didn't take long before their gap closed. Yuan Tian's growth was frightening. Each week he came back with sharper instincts, faster strikes, harder bones. His body had begun to change, shaped by the path of violence and will.
"I never taught someone who listened this well," Han Jue muttered one night, watching Yuan Tian train alone under moonlight.
"I never had someone who taught like you," Yuan Tian replied.
There was a silence. Then Han Jue snorted.
"Careful. That almost sounded like gratitude."
---
That same week, Elder Gu—a thin, hawk-eyed man with graying robes and a sharp tongue—gathered a dozen students in the central hall.
"You've all passed the basic threshold," he said. "And now, it's time to see if you're more than metal waiting to be forged."
He glanced over them. His gaze lingered on Yuan Tian, then on Han Jue.
"The next mission will not be as controlled as the caravan escort. This one is a real assignment. Investigate and eliminate."
A murmur passed through the students.
"There's a village three days southeast—Jinshui. Reports say the hunters there have gone missing. The scouts found carcasses torn apart in ways that suggest more than simple beasts."
"What's the reward?" someone asked.
Elder Gu's lips twitched. "Survival. And recognition."
Then, tossing a scroll toward Yuan Tian, he added, "You'll be team lead this time."
Surprise flickered across the room. Even Han Jue raised an eyebrow.
"Why him?" someone asked. "He's only mid-stage."
Elder Gu's voice turned cold. "Because strength is not always leadership. And because in the last three months, none of you have matched his mission results, combat scores, or growth."
Yuan Tian accepted the scroll with a nod.
Elder Gu turned, robes swishing. "You leave at dawn."
---
That night, under the familiar pine tree, Yuan Tian stared at the mission scroll while Han Jue punched a training log beside him.
"You gonna be ready?" Han Jue asked, not looking.
Yuan Tian didn't answer right away.
Then: "You coming?"
Han Jue stopped mid-strike. Turned. And grinned.
"Hell yes. Let's see what your leadership looks like when things start dying."
Yuan Tian stood, tucking the scroll away.
"Then pack light," he said. "Because something out there's already hunting."