It was the dawn of just another day. Sturm had already finished his morning training routine and was on the way to the fang wolf territory with Reinhardt. Apart from the lightning bolt, he had made additional preparations to fight the magic beasts again. This time, he would not be as helpless.
Ever since he noticed that most of his strikes could not damage magic beasts and instead injure his fists more, Sturm specifically trained his bones and skins. Just like those Kung Fu masters that other professional fighters made fun of back in his world, the teenager conditioned both fists by repeatedly punching wood, sand, and other materials.
Professional fighters on Earth did not require excessive fist conditioning. While many mistakenly assumed boxing gloves served to reduce the damage inflicted upon an opponent, their actual use was protecting the striker's fists. With both hand wraps and boxing gloves, the fighters could instead concentrate on perfecting their technique.
There was a reason most self-defense trainers advised their pupils to strike with open palms instead. The human hand had 27 bones, most of them rather fragile due to their small size, and conditioning them would have to be done gradually over the years. No matter how outdated professional fighters considered Kung Fu and other traditional martial arts, their historical backgrounds provided them a wealth of experience.
Sturm had to been too absorbed in the mindset of a professional fighter. After priding himself as the representative of Earth's four thousand years of martial arts, he should have known better than to disregard some of the more ancient teachings. His actions reminded him of a famous heavyweight boxer, proficient in the peek-a-boo style, who broke his right hand in a street fight. It was a famous incident, and Sturm should have learned from it.
Luckily, it was not too late to get back on the right path. As Sturm's strength grew, the pressure on his body would increase as well. At some point, it would not be able to keep up anymore. Even if it was still impossible to injure Tier 3 bronze beasts, at least his fists, arms, and shoulders would not collapse under the impact anymore.
Sturm had long surpassed his former self from Earth. The 'Development of Mind,' the first chapter of the Art of the Nine Pillars, had pushed Sturm's instincts, senses, and mental processing speed to heights he had previously deemed impossible. Over the last two years, the [Black Room] could already reach a distance of 20 meters, effectively doubling it.
If this kept on, then someday, Sturm would even surpass Earth's most cutting-edge technology. There had to be a limit at some point. Being able to see as far as military binoculars just sounded too far-fetched. There was a popular myth on Earth, which claimed people were limited to using only 10% of their brain's potential.
Assuming this was true, then the upper limits were much higher in this world. Even as a slave, Sturm felt no barrier whatsoever when training his mind. Not just the mind but also his body improved at an incredible rate—the Second Chapter's 'Development of Body' kept up with the First Chapter.
Muscles regenerated quicker, were more compact, and would deteriorate a lot slower. An interesting point was that big, bulging muscles were an indicator of strength, but only relative to the celestial step taken. Reinhardt's strength rivaled sixth-step nobles, so he was exceptionally big compared to other fifth-step commoners. Should he ever take another celestial step, then his muscles would get smaller and increase in density.
Sturm was now very close to achieving the strength of a first-step commoner. While he did not train for pure strength as Reinhardt did, his chiseled and muscular body was a testament to his physical superiority between slaves. The advancement in the first two chapters gave Sturm hope to one day catch up to both commoners and nobles, but he could not feel completely satisfied with himself.
The third and fourth chapters required nothing more than experience, and the lack of challenging fights slowed Sturm's progress down to a crawl. Combat slaves proved no challenge, and while Reinhardt occasionally managed to convince a few mercenary friends to spar with him, they had stopped accepting the task. Holding back would bring Sturm no further gains, and when going all out, the mercenaries were not able to him anymore.
This humiliating experienced caused them, with the exception of Daga, to refuse to spar with Sturm. Not even handsome remunerations could change their mind. Now the only hope left was magic beasts. Luckily, the magic beast migration had settled down, and the beasts rarely left their new, albeit shrunk down, territories anymore.
Up to this day, the maclawco territory was still a forbidden death zone. The silver-white gorilla behemoth had escaped several noble hunts, time and time again. After suffering just a few casualties, those nobles were already infuriated and send waves of mercenaries after the beast in an attempt to rout it out and weaken it. With none of the mercenaries surviving, even the arrogant nobles decided to stay away from the beast's territory, only asking the Mayor to request aid from Kalavras.
Creedo, the mayor's son, had already moved to Kalavras and joined one of the several pirate prince's factions. With a little convincing, it was possible that he could convince the prince to send an extermination force to take care of their problem.
Not that this affected Sturm and Reinhardt's plan in any way. They had almost reached the fang wolves' territory in the south of the western forest. Behind it was the slave camp, and while Sturm was interested in seeing it again and properly 'thanking' a few of the slavers, they had no plans to visit it this time around. It was the Siren Song Merchant's territory now anyways, and while those greedy goblins in human form had not caused the Thunder Merchants any problem, it was best not to provoke them either.
"You have come a long way since the last time we fought those puppies. I know you are confident in dealing with them, but don't forget our experience in the maclawco territory. You never know what could happen, so stay vigilant. If we meet any alpha wolf, then we retreat. This is our first hunt in two years. Let us take things slowly," Reinhardt reminded Sturm.
Sturm's mentality had matured during those last two years, and he knew the guard captain spoke the truth. "I know, Reinhardt. I still remember how fast those beasts were, but there is no way they can compare to grassfoxes, and we have slain hundreds if not thousands of them. Even if I can still not hurt these beasts, I am confident in surviving. I'm just happy I can punch beasts again."
Reinhardt let out a quick laugh in response. His student loved punching opponents and beasts way too much. Not like he disagreed thought, trashing a few enemies was indeed one of the more enjoyable activities of a warrior. No one knew how much Sturm had progressed than him, and he was confident that except for multiple alpha wolves, nothing could threaten the teenager's life.
The problem was that they had already made Edgar worry way too much. Both their excursions into the ironmaw bear and maclawco territories had ended in life-threatening situations. They would take it slow this time and prove to their boss that he was right in placing his trust in them.
*Awooo*
It did not take long for them to spot their first prey. As a consequence of the magic beast migration, most of the beast's territories condensed, causing their population density to shoot up as well. This was especially the case with weaker magic beasts below Tier 5.
A pack of six fang wolves was resting on a small hill. On top of the hill stood an alpha wolf, proudly raising his head and howling towards the sky. Reinhardt had decided they would not confront packs with their alphas present, but upon closer inspection, he saw that the alpha wolf was just slightly bigger and stronger than the others.
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The guard captain quickly signaled Sturm. They would fight this pack. He would take the alpha and three others, and Sturm would fight the remaining two.
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Unlike what Edgar expected Sturm to do, he did not plan to simply cast a lightning bolt. He had prepared something much more exciting. After his decision to learn chantless casting, Sturm had come up with other applications of mana matter in order to train the will. During physical training, a light bulb went off in his head. The enlightningment came suddenly, and now it was time to literally share it with those fang wolves.
Reinhardt had already drawn his new axes, ready to soak them in blood once again. Ever since losing the confrontation against the silver gorilla, he felt an urge to confront stronger foes to improve himself. Those four wolves would be nothing more than a warm-up, but he could wait. While the guard captain prepared to charge into the pack, a crackling sound broke his concentration.