The morning began with the sun barely peeking over the horizon as Alex and Ruth completed their usual morning routine—getting dressed and preparing for the day ahead. They met each other in the hallway, exchanging smiles that carried a mix of excitement and nervousness. Today was going to be different, and they both knew it.
Ruth had mentioned Bartlow had something special planned, but Alex wasn't entirely sure what that entailed. Together, they made their way to the courtyard, where Bartlow stood waiting for them. The courtyard, with its open space and stone pathways, was bathed in the early morning light. The air was crisp, carrying with it the scent of dew on grass, making everything feel fresh and ready for the training to come.
Bartlow greeted them both with a wide grin, his arms crossed, the morning breeze lightly rustling his cloak. "Good morning, you two," he began. His voice was both commanding and calm, the tone of a seasoned warrior about to push his students beyond their limits. "Today marks the beginning of your next level of training."
He paused, letting his words sink in. Alex stood beside Ruth, his heart racing. He'd spent nights recovering from his battle with the three-star bear, and now it seemed Bartlow had more in store for them.
"You'll be working on your individual strengths while also supporting each other's weaknesses," Bartlow continued. "This training regiment will last for the upcoming year. Ruth, you'll focus on your archery, agility, and dexterity. You have great speed and precision, but I'll be pushing you to move faster, shoot straighter, and adapt to your surroundings with ease."
Ruth nodded, her resolve clear in her eyes. "I'm ready, Master Bartlow. I want to push my limits. Don't hold back."
Bartlow smirked, clearly impressed with her eagerness. Then, he turned his attention to Alex. "And you, Alex. You've got raw power and determination. But you need to improve your mind-muscle connection, your control over your body. You've got the strength, but it's time to sharpen it, refine it like a well-honed blade. You'll be focusing on your sword and shield techniques, and understanding how to fully use your abilities and skills in combat."
Alex, thinking back to his battle with the three-star bear, felt his heart skip a beat. He had come a long way, but there was no denying that he had weaknesses—gaps in his technique, moments when he was overwhelmed. Bartlow, as always, had seen right through him.
"But, uh, Master Bartlow," Alex began hesitantly. "My shield broke during the fight with the three-star bear. I don't have one anymore."
Bartlow raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Oh, I know. And I've already taken care of that." With a swift motion, Bartlow reached behind him and pulled out a gleaming, intricately designed shield, polished to perfection. It had an aura about it, emanating strength and durability. "This," Bartlow said, handing it to Alex, "is a three-star shield. Your reward for protecting Ruth and defeating the bear."
Alex stared at the shield in awe, its weight and balance perfect in his hands. He bowed deeply, his heart swelling with gratitude. "Thank you, Master Bartlow. I won't let you down."
But Bartlow wasn't done. His grin widened as he unsheathed his sword, the blade glinting ominously in the morning light. "Since you've managed to kill a three-star beast, Alex, you'll start training with me as if you were a complete advanced stage cultivator." He held up the sword with both hands, a deadly gleam in his eyes. "You've already proven you can handle the pressure. Now, it's time to push you beyond your limits."
Alex gulped, fear trickling into his veins. "Is that really necessary?" he asked, glancing nervously at Ruth. "I did have help during that fight…"
Bartlow let out a deep, hearty chuckle, showing no remorse for the intense training he was about to put Alex through. "Necessary? If you want to protect those you love, Alex, you'll need to be more than just strong—you'll need to become a cultivator who can stand above anyone who opposes you. This training will do just that."
Ruth stepped forward, her expression equally determined. "I'll be training to surpass my limits too," she said, her voice strong. "Don't hold back on me either, Master Bartlow. Push me as hard as you push Alex."
Bartlow's eyes gleamed with pride. The two of them were young, but their desire to grow and become stronger burned brightly. "Very well," he said, positioning himself for battle. "If that's what you want, then I won't hold back. We begin now."
Without another word, Bartlow lunged toward Alex with surprising speed, his sword aiming directly for Alex's shield. The clang of metal echoed through the courtyard as Alex barely managed to raise his shield in time to block the strike. The impact sent a shockwave through his body, his feet sliding back several inches from the sheer force.
"Remember, Alex," Bartlow shouted, already preparing his next strike, "it's not just about blocking! Use your body! Feel the connection between your muscles and your weapon!"
Ruth, watching intently, readied her bow and arrow. Bartlow had them both working in tandem, a balance of swordplay and archery. She was supposed to provide cover, supporting Alex while improving her aim and speed. As Bartlow pressed Alex with relentless attacks, Ruth circled them, firing arrows at carefully timed intervals.
"Don't get complacent, Ruth!" Bartlow called out mid-swing. "Increase your pace! Find your rhythm!"
Alex gritted his teeth, pushing back against Bartlow's strikes, feeling every muscle in his body strain under the pressure. But even as he struggled, he could feel something else—an understanding, a deeper connection between his body and his movements. It wasn't just brute strength anymore; he was beginning to move with purpose, with control.
Ruth, her arrows flying faster now, found herself in a zone. She could feel the difference in her agility, in her timing. She was adapting, just as Bartlow said she would.
As the training session dragged on, the two of them began to fall into a rhythm, their movements complementing each other. Bartlow, for all his overwhelming strength, was teaching them more than just physical skills—he was forging their connection as a team.
Hours passed, the sun climbing higher in the sky, but Bartlow showed no signs of stopping. It wasn't until Ruth fired an arrow that grazed Bartlow's shoulder, narrowly missing him, that he finally called a halt.
"Good," he said, breathing heavily but clearly pleased. "You've both got potential. But remember, this is just the beginning."
Alex, panting and drenched in sweat, couldn't help but smile. He had survived, and more than that—he had learned.
After wiping the bead of sweat from his forehead, Bartlow stood tall, giving Alex and Ruth a moment to catch their breath. Alex, still feeling the rush of adrenaline from the intense sparring session, half-jokingly said, "At this pace, we might actually put you on the defensive soon, Master Bartlow."
As the words left Alex's mouth, the atmosphere in the courtyard shifted. The once light-hearted air grew tense, and the world seemed to go quiet. Ruth immediately shook her head, eyes widening in disbelief. She knew exactly what was coming.
Bartlow, his expression unreadable for a moment, slowly turned to Alex with a cheeky grin. His eyes twinkled with amusement as he replied in a sarcastic tone, "Oh, is that so?"
Alex's heart skipped a beat, the weight of his words dawning on him. He tensed, bracing himself for the worst. Bartlow's smile lingered for a brief second longer, but then, without warning, he vanished. Alex blinked, his mind struggling to catch up to what had just happened. Before he could even comprehend the shift, Bartlow's dagger was already pressed lightly against his throat.
Bartlow had moved faster than Alex could register, his form a blur. Standing behind Alex, his expression had darkened, his voice calm but laced with a deadly seriousness. "Never judge an opponent too soon, Alex," Bartlow said, his eyes briefly flicking toward Ruth. "You never know what they're capable of. If this were a real fight and I wasn't holding back, you'd both be dead within seconds."
The weight of his words hung in the air, cutting through the tension like a blade. Alex swallowed hard, the cold steel of the dagger brushing against his skin as the reality of Bartlow's power sank in. There was an enormous gap between them, a chasm that Alex had foolishly underestimated. Ruth, standing to the side, was just as stunned by the display of speed and precision, fully aware of how easily Bartlow could have ended the sparring match for good.
Bartlow, seeing the gravity of his lesson settle in, pulled his blade away from Alex's throat and sheathed it with a fluid motion. "I'm not angry," he continued, his tone softer now. "But it's better to learn this lesson now, during training, than out there in the real world where it could cost you your life. Overconfidence is dangerous. It blinds you."
Alex, still catching his breath and processing what had just happened, bowed his head. "I'm sorry for my rudeness, Master Bartlow. I didn't mean—"
But Bartlow cut him off with a chuckle, waving the apology away. "No need to apologize, Alex. It's good to have ambition. But understand this: the path of a cultivator isn't just about power. It's about control, understanding, and knowing your limits. Surpassing them safely requires wisdom."
Then, much to Alex's surprise, Bartlow placed a hand on his shoulder, his face softening. "But," Bartlow said, locking eyes with Alex, "if you keep pushing yourself, training with the dedication you've shown, I wholeheartedly believe you'll surpass me one day."
Alex blinked, taken aback by the compliment. For Bartlow to say such a thing was no small praise. The thought of one day surpassing his master seemed impossible, especially after seeing Bartlow's overwhelming strength. But before Alex could dwell too much on the compliment, Bartlow's voice echoed once more.
"And if you don't surpass me," Bartlow added his expression more serious, "then I've failed as your master."
The weight of Bartlow's expectations settled on Alex, but instead of fear, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. Ruth, too, stood quietly, impressed by Bartlow's faith in Alex. The bond between master and students had grown stronger through that brief, tense exchange.
Bartlow gave a final nod to the both of them. "Now, rest up. We'll pick this up again tomorrow. And remember—your greatest opponent is not the person standing in front of you. It's the one you carry within. Overcome that, and you'll be able to face anything."
As the training session came to an end, Bartlow, standing tall and composed, addressed Alex and Ruth, his tone serious but encouraging. "From here on out," he began, "we'll continue this regiment for the foreseeable future. You'll train your bodies, minds, and spirits as we've discussed. You'll push past your limits day by day, week by week. And once a year has passed, we'll reassess your progress. If I see that a new approach will better advance your capabilities, we'll adapt."
Alex and Ruth, their bodies sore but filled with renewed determination, nodded in unison. The excitement for the journey ahead was evident in their eyes, despite the exhaustion weighing on their limbs. The prospect of growth, of overcoming their limits, had kindled a deep fire within them.
Bartlow gave a small, approving nod, his eyes softening slightly. "Good. Keep that fire alive, and don't let yourselves waver. Now, get some rest. We'll continue tomorrow. And remember—this is only the beginning."
With that, Bartlow turned to leave, offering them a final wave as he wished them a goodnight. "Dismissed. Go get some rest."
As Bartlow's footsteps echoed away into the distance, Alex and Ruth stood for a moment, soaking in the weight of what lay ahead. The year would be grueling, but they both knew it was necessary. They exchanged glances, smiling with shared resolve, and then made their way back to the mansion.
Once inside, they went through their evening routine as usual. After taking a long, warm shower to ease their muscles and wash away the day's intensity, they settled back into Alex's room. The moonlight filtered softly through the window as they lay down together, Ruth curling into Alex's side. The comfort of her presence soothed him, and they held each other close, finding peace in their shared warmth.
As the day's exhaustion finally overtook them, they drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other's arms, ready to face whatever challenges the next day would bring. The future was uncertain, but they knew that as long as they had each other and the guidance of Bartlow, they were ready for whatever awaited them.