It was a tranquil night, the moon casting a gentle glow over the town, when the serene silence was pierced by the distant sound of a baby's cries. Inside the small, worn orphanage, an elderly woman stirred from her slumber. Her keen ears caught the unusual noise, prompting her to rise from her chair, joints creaking, and shuffle toward the front door.
Cautiously opening it, she peered into the cool night air. There, on her doorstep, lay a small bundle wrapped in white cloth. Blinking in surprise, she muttered under her breath, "Which fool in this town is cruel enough to leave a baby out here?" Her voice, tinged with both annoyance and concern, echoed in the quiet.
Bending down, she gently picked up the infant, whose cries ceased the moment he found solace in her arms. Gazing at his tiny face, she was momentarily captivated by his otherworldly beauty. His delicate features and luminous skin gave him an ethereal quality, as if divinity itself had placed him on her doorstep. The old woman stared, enchanted by the innocence cradled in her arms.
Snapping out of her trance, she glanced around, half-expecting someone to emerge from the shadows. "No one?" she murmured, bewildered. Turning back to the peaceful child now nestled against her, she whispered, "Who could abandon such a precious soul?"
Cradling the baby closer, she retreated inside the orphanage, her brow furrowed in thought. She gently placed him in one of the few cribs occupied by sleeping infants. It was a modest establishment, one she had dedicated her life to running.
As she tucked the boy in, she murmured softly, "In this town, no one would leave such a charming child. Maybe... it was an outsider."
Still perplexed, she settled back into her chair by the fire, her mind swirling with questions. The baby lay peacefully in his crib, his divine aura lingering in the air, as if fate itself had quietly entered the orphanage that night.
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Six years passed, and the once-abandoned infant blossomed into a striking young boy. His short black hair framed a face that radiated an unusual charm, while his deep, dark eyes captivated all who met his gaze. There was an almost magnetic quality about Alexander, a presence that drew people in, as if he were born to be admired.
As he walked through the bustling streets, townsfolk greeted him with warm smiles. Mothers, caught up in their daily tasks, paused to offer him tender looks of affection, their hearts softened by his innocence. Young girls, no older than he, grew flustered, their faces lighting up with excitement as they whispered among themselves, enchanted by his adorable demeanor. Even older women smiled fondly, their gazes filled with a gentle warmth whenever he passed by.
"Good morning, Alexander!" one woman called out cheerfully, her smile bright and welcoming.
"Here, take this!" another offered, handing him a piece of chocolate from her basket. Her eyes softened further as she watched his grateful expression.
Alexander accepted the gifts with a soft smile, nodding in thanks. Despite his young age, he carried himself with a calm composure that belied his years, making him seem wiser than his peers. The townspeople, unable to explain why, felt an innate urge to shower him with small treats—bread, candy, or little toys—whenever they crossed paths with him.
To them, Alexander was simply the charming boy from the local orphanage, yet he had woven himself into the fabric of the town, his captivating presence bringing joy wherever he roamed. Mothers adored him, young girls admired him, and everyone he met seemed touched by the radiant charm that surrounded him.
As he continued along the street, the townsfolk couldn't help but wonder what made the boy so special. They knew little of his origins, but all agreed: he was a gift to their community, cherished as one of their own.
Eventually, Alexander made his way to the outskirts of town, where houses thinned and the forest loomed nearby. The familiar path led to a modest house nestled near the woods. In front of the house, an old man sat in a wooden chair, basking in the calm of the late afternoon. His eyes were closed, and he appeared to be soaking in the tranquility of his surroundings.
As Alexander approached, he shifted his usual calm demeanor, adopting an innocent expression that softened his already captivating features. With a playful tone, he called out, "Gramps, look! I'm six years old today, according to Grandma!"
The old man's eyes fluttered open, and a kind smile spread across his face as he regarded the boy standing before him. "Alexander, my boy! HAHAHA, six already, are you? Time really does fly!" His laughter was warm and full of affection.
With a nostalgic sigh, he leaned back in his chair, his gaze softening as he reminisced. "I still remember when you couldn't even walk… just a little thing, always stumbling around."
Alexander's face scrunched into a pout, cheeks puffing out in mock frustration. "Stop it, Gramps! I don't want to hear about that embarrassing stuff!" He quickly shifted gears, his tone brightening with determination. "I came here to learn about martial arts!"
The old man raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Martial arts, huh?" He looked Alexander over, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. After a moment, his smile widened. "What I know is limited, but I'll teach you what I can. Let's start with the basics."
Alexander's eyes gleamed with excitement, his calm mask slipping for a moment. Despite his young age, a fire burned within him—a determination that transcended his years. The old man recognized this spirit and chuckled once more, slowly rising to his feet.
"Alright then, follow me."
He led Alexander to the back of his house, where an open area spread out beside a serene lake. The water shimmered in the soft light, and a few rabbits nibbled on the grass near the water's edge. The peacefulness of the scene was soothing, but Alexander's focus was solely on the old man, who prepared to impart crucial wisdom.
After a brief pause, the old man began, "What you call martial arts is known as cultivation by most people."
Alexander's eyes widened with curiosity, his full attention captivated.
"The first step in this path is tempering your body," the old man continued, his voice steady. "People refer to this realm as 'Body Tempering.' It's the foundation of everything that follows. Without a strong body, you cannot hope to absorb Astral Energy—the force that flows through the atmosphere around us."
Alexander's gaze flicked to the sky, as if he could somehow see the unseen energy the old man spoke of. Noticing the boy's intense focus, the old man nodded approvingly.
"This realm is crucial because, without a solid foundation, you won't be able to advance into the more complex realms of cultivation. Your body must withstand the strain of absorbing and controlling Astral Energy; otherwise, you'll break before you can even begin," he explained, his tone growing serious.
With a quiet sigh, the old man's expression turned somber, and he looked down at the ground. "I've never made it past this realm, despite all my years."
The sadness in his voice was palpable, and for a moment, the strength and wisdom he usually exuded seemed to fade, replaced by quiet resignation. "No matter how hard I tried, I could never step into the next realm… my body simply wasn't strong enough."
Alexander watched the old man, sensing the weight of his words. He understood that this was more than a lesson; it was a glimpse into a lifetime of effort and struggle.
"But don't let that deter you," the old man quickly added, his voice regaining some of its strength. "You're young, with plenty of time ahead. If you work hard and push yourself, you might just surpass what I couldn't."
Determination flickered in Alexander's eyes as he absorbed every word. He recognized the importance of the old man's teachings and silently vowed not only to master the Body Tempering realm but to transcend it.
After the somber tone of his earlier words, the old man suddenly reached into his shirt, causing Alexander's eyebrows to twitch in confusion. From beneath his clothing, the old man produced a small, worn book, its cover faded from years of use.
"This," the old man began, holding the book out toward Alexander, "is called the 'Basic Body Tempering Technique.'"
Alexander blinked, looking at the modest book with a hint of disappointment. He had expected something more grandiose. A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Basic?" he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible, but the old man caught the shift in his expression immediately.
With a sharp glance, the old man's tone became firm and serious. "Boy, don't underestimate this technique."
Startled by the sudden intensity in the old man's voice, Alexander looked up.
"This may be the simplest technique available, but not everyone even has access to this much," the old man explained, his gaze hardening. "Only the wealthy or those from powerful families can obtain better techniques. But in the Body Tempering realm, the technique matters less than you might think. This realm is all about strengthening your physical body, and this technique—basic or not—can take you far if you dedicate yourself."
Alexander's disappointment began to dissipate as the old man's words sank in. The intensity in his gaze wasn't one of scolding, but of earnest understanding. He had witnessed countless students come and go, and he knew where Alexander's thoughts had wandered.
With a nod, the old man continued, "Your body will be the foundation for everything that comes next. Without a solid foundation, no amount of talent will save you. Trust me when I say that every great master began somewhere."
Alexander's heart swelled with determination, understanding that each master had faced the same struggles and challenges he would soon encounter. As he took the small book into his hands, it felt heavier than its weight.
The old man clapped a hand on his shoulder, grounding him back to the present moment. "Now, take this to heart. Practice diligently and remember that the only way to surpass your limits is through hard work. If you ever grow tired, or feel like giving up, just remember: all great things require patience and perseverance."
With a deep breath, Alexander nodded, determination flaring to life within him. "I'll work hard, Gramps! I promise!"
With that, Alexander turned back toward the open area, his eyes focused on the horizon where the sun was beginning to dip below the trees. He felt a surge of excitement for the journey ahead—the path of cultivation awaited him, filled with challenges, growth, and the promise of something greater.
As he made his way home, the book clasped to his chest, he could almost feel the Astral Energy swirling around him, whispering secrets of strength and resilience. With each step, he imagined the possibilities of what lay ahead—a world filled with adventure and discovery.
And so, with a heart full of ambition and a mind set on mastering the basics, Alexander embarked on the next chapter of his life. Little did he know, the journey he was about to undertake would shape not only his destiny but the very fabric of the world around him.