Three weeks passed swiftly, and Jonathan had dedicated himself to mastering the Spirit Wind movements. With tireless practice, he had finally achieved the level of Adept, one star, and was now confident he could challenge some of the strongest cultivators in the land.
Seated cross-legged on a large rock, Jonathan was lost in deep thought when his master approached him.
"I have news about your family," she said, her expression somber.
"What news, Master?" he asked, curious and concerned.
"The Black-Tide Sect has seized your family's home. Since your parents left, they assumed it was free for their own use, setting it up as a base for new recruits," she replied, her face clouded with conflicting emotions.
Jonathan clenched his fists, an intense wave of anger washing over him as murderous intent filled his gaze.
"They've gone too far," he muttered, voice thick with fury. An immense blue aura erupted from his body, casting a glow that illuminated the entire mountain. His master's eyes widened slightly as she observed the outburst.
"Could he have broken the seal?" she wondered to herself. But she quickly dismissed the thought. "If he had, his power would be uncontrollable, and his body would struggle to withstand its effects."
After a few moments, the intense aura subsided, and Jonathan regained his composure.
"Master," he said calmly, "I'm going to the valley to reclaim my home from these trespassers." His fists tightened once more, his resolve evident.
---
In the valley below, the Black-Tide Sect recruits trained obliviously, unaware that a fierce battle was on the horizon. Their instructor, a Disciple-level cultivator, supervised them, his main task being to guide them through this early stage of their training.
As they continued in blissful ignorance, two figures approached, their faces obscured. One was a woman who stayed back, observing quietly, while the other—a man—stepped forward with a confidence that demanded attention.
"I see you've made my home your own," he called out, his voice echoing through the training grounds. The recruits turned to see him striding toward them with a steady, commanding presence.
"Who are you to make such a bold claim?" the instructor sneered, stepping forward.
The man scoffed. "A nobody dares ask who I am in my own house?" The frustration in his tone was unmistakable. This man was Jonathan.
"You're courting death!" the instructor barked. "Everyone, teach him a lesson."
The recruits rushed forward, encircling Jonathan with clear intentions to overwhelm him. But Jonathan remained unfazed, his lips curling into a slight smile. Raising his right hand, a powerful staff materialized, releasing a shockwave that caused the recruits to stagger back, struggling to regain their footing.
The observing woman smiled approvingly, while the instructor smirked. "Alright, let's see what you can do, kid."
Jonathan chuckled, his voice low. "If you're all so eager for death, I won't hold back."
The recruits charged at him once more, attempting to overwhelm him. But with swift, precise movements, Jonathan swung his staff in all directions, releasing waves of force that flung his attackers against the walls and trees.
Glaring at the instructor, Jonathan growled, "Stop hiding behind your students. Fight me yourself."
The instructor, his arrogance unshaken, taunted him. "You're just an Adept, yet you dare challenge me, a Disciple? You'll regret this!" Despite his boastful words, he stole a glance at the woman in the distance, sensing her concealed strength. But seeing she had no intention of interfering, he turned back to Jonathan.
With a fierce roar, he summoned a dark aura and charged, aiming to end the fight in a single strike. But Jonathan met him head-on, their fists colliding mid-air with a thunderous impact that cracked the nearby windows. The instructor staggered back, surprise flashing across his face.
"How is this possible? He's just an Adept, and I'm a four-star Disciple!"
Realizing a swift victory was impossible, the instructor gathered his energy, forming a sword of black light. With a swift movement, he launched it toward Jonathan, who dodged nimbly. The sword flew past, embedding itself in a large tree with a resounding thud.
"As expected of a Disciple," Jonathan smirked. "Impressive—but not enough."
The instructor sneered. "Arrogant child! Your limited experience will be your downfall."
Watching from the side, the woman's brow creased slightly, knowing her student's lack of battle experience could become a disadvantage if the fight dragged on.
"Finish this quickly," she advised him.
Jonathan nodded, summoning a burst of blue light that enveloped his entire body. His staff appeared in his hand, and with graceful spins, he unleashed three powerful swings toward his opponent, each releasing wind waves stronger than the last. The instructor barely managed to raise an energy shield, but the first two waves shattered it, leaving him exposed to the third. He crossed his arms defensively, yet the impact still forced him back several meters, his expression one of horror.
"Impossible… an Adept shouldn't wield such power!"
From the sidelines, the woman called out, "Close the distance, Jonathan! End it with a decisive blow."
"Yes, Master." Jonathan didn't waste a second. He charged forward, his speed increasing as he closed in. The instructor's confidence faltered, and he tried to retreat, but Jonathan gave him no chance. With a fierce swing, Jonathan shattered the man's defenses, forcing an opening.
"Spirit Wind Strike!" Jonathan roared, his fist blazing with energy as it struck the instructor's chest. The impact sent him flying, crashing to the ground in a dazed heap.
The defeated Disciple coughed up blood, his face twisted in disbelief.
Jonathan stood over him, resolute, his spirit unwavering.