Training proved far more grueling than Oliver had imagined.
Each day, he had to remind himself not to give up, to push through the hardship.
Yet he persevered, driven by a newfound hope absent in his previous life.
The skills recorded in the Rebirth Codex would grow with practice. Even if his current abilities were lacking, he could change his fate.
This knowledge was a powerful motivator!
Encouraged by this, Oliver gradually acclimated to the arduous regimen, though the difficulty never truly diminished.
He practiced Energy Cultivation techniques, drilled the Monster-Slaying Sword forms, and forced down countless bland meals.
Day after day, time slipped by.
In the blink of an eye, the year Thomas had granted him evaporated.
Dead leaves swirled in the air as Oliver stood by the pond, moving through slow, deliberate motions. He felt the changes in his body as internal energy flowed through him.
Though his movements were unhurried, they carried the weight of mountains. The very ground seemed to tremble beneath his feet, leaving deep imprints. It was as if a volcano was building pressure, waiting to erupt.
"Hah..." Oliver finished his practice, his eyes shining with an inner light.
In the seven months since Henry's injury, Oliver had devoted himself entirely to Energy Cultivation, and his progress was substantial.
For the first three months, he cultivated forty strands of silk-like internal energy monthly, forging his second pale white energy core.
In the last four months, progress became more challenging, but he still managed thirty strands per month.
Now he possessed about three pale white energy cores and seventy strands of silk-like internal energy.
This marked significant improvement in his Energy Cultivation realm.
Additionally, after another nine months of practice, his skills were on the verge of leveling up.
◇
Ordinary Skills
Farming (Level 3: 260/300, 30% yield increase)
Energy Cultivation (Level 3: 451/600, 60% practice speed increase)
◇
The rate of internal energy cultivation had begun to slow, a change Oliver felt keenly.
Yet his skill progression remained steady, gaining at least one experience point daily.
With five months remaining, his Energy Cultivation skill would soon reach level 4!
"It's been so long," the now fourteen-year-old Oliver mused.
He knew, of course, that cultivation was no easy feat. Most hunters stalled at the second level of Energy Cultivation.
Still, the glacial pace of "internal strength" cultivation was frustrating.
If awakening spirit roots and embarking on the path to immortality was even slower, how could he ever catch up?
With his incomplete spirit roots, he appeared useless. If he couldn't make significant progress early on, what hope did he have for the future? Could the power of reincarnation truly see him through all this?
"Oliver, everyone's waiting. Come quickly," a young woman called, interrupting his thoughts. She approached, carrying a child.
"Sister-in-law, go on ahead. I'll be there soon," Oliver nodded, glancing towards the bustling house.
This was Ethan's wife, Sophia, who had recently given birth.
The family had been abuzz with talk of Energy Cultivation and Oliver becoming a hunter. They all sensed a bright future ahead.
They might not fully understand why, but they could feel this was a momentous leap forward.
If Oliver became a mid-level or even high-level figure in the village, they would undoubtedly benefit.
Thus, the family wholeheartedly supported Oliver, gathering to congratulate him.
The day's fare was far more lavish than usual. It was a heartfelt celebration, and Oliver participated quietly, touched by their support.
The day passed in high spirits, adults and children alike reveling in this rare moment of joy.
The next morning, the family saw Oliver off.
James patted his son's shoulder. "Once you join the Hunting Team, you're on your own. Work hard, but don't push yourself too far. Staying alive is what matters most."
"Take care, Oliver," Ethan added.
His younger sister, sister-in-law, and mother remained silent, having said their farewells the previous day.
...
"I'll do my best," Oliver promised himself.
Dressed in simple cloth attire with a knife at his waist, he made his way to the village outskirts. He stood before a building adjacent to the mess hall.
The structure was rough-hewn, filled with tables and chairs. Peering inside, he spotted several private rooms.
Looking up, he saw a sign that read "Hunter's Hall" in gleaming silver script.
As he entered, the cacophony within the hall suddenly ceased.
Seven pairs of eyes turned to him.
Among them, one man stood out. Clad in azure robes, with sharp brows and piercing eyes, he exuded an air of authority. His level of Energy Cultivation was clearly formidable.
The man recognized Oliver and yawned. "Oliver Greene. Punctual to a fault, not a day early or late. Show me the plate Master William gave you."
"Yes, sir." Oliver produced the iron plate, handing it over casually.
The man glanced at it, confirming its authenticity. With a pinch of his fingers, the plate crumpled into a ball.
Such hand strength was terrifying. Crushing skulls or ripping out throats barehanded would be child's play for him.
Yet Oliver remained unfazed. After two years of practice, he was familiar with the marvels of internal energy. Using just ten strands of silk-like energy, he could perform similar feats.
Having disposed of the iron plate, the man produced a copper one he'd prepared in advance. Its intricate pattern spoke of craftsmanship far beyond simple fingernail scratches.
He tossed it to Oliver, who caught it firmly.
Examining it, Oliver saw his name, "Oliver Greene," along with an "O" inscribed on its surface.
"That circle represents your treatment – monthly pay, meat rations, and so on. Newcomers had better improve their standing quickly. Once you're older, those chances dry up!"
"Of course, improving your status means hunting monsters and evil spirits. And to hunt, you need to join a Hunting Team. If you can't even manage that, everything else is moot."
The man tossed a piece of wood in his hand, fixing Oliver with a malicious gaze.
"Boy, show us what you're made of. No one wants dead weight dragging them down. Of course, you could always band together with other fools and see how long you last hunting monsters without us veterans."
A scarred man sneered from nearby.
"The iron tree in the yard is our test. Hit it with everything you've got. Show us your level!" an eagle-eyed man added.
Oliver spotted the towering tree in the courtyard center, recognizing it as the same species outside the Village Chief's residence.
Without hesitation, he strode forward, circulating his internal energy.
Going solo or recruiting other novices wasn't even a consideration for Oliver.
Every profession has its barriers to entry. The more complex the job, the harder it is to master.
Monster hunting wasn't like moving bricks or sweeping streets. One mistake meant death.
As a practical thinker, Oliver harbored no delusions of grandeur. He knew that striking out alone or forming an inexperienced team was suicide.
Joining a seasoned group, by contrast, offered a guaranteed income and better odds of survival in dangerous situations.
Even if they were truly outmatched, these veterans would at least buy more time to fight than raw recruits.
As for the possibility of being betrayed by veterans... well, that was a risk he'd have to accept. If he wasn't strong enough to prevent it, he could only blame himself.
This world was one of naked survival. Everyone fought to live. Oliver saw no issue with this reality. He, too, would pursue his own survival rather than sacrifice himself for others.