The next few days passed in a blur.
Lennox threw himself into his routine with unwavering focus, refining his knowledge and tempering his body through sheer dedication while also managing the Mystic Tavern. Each morning began the same—a hearty breakfast cooked by Garrick, two grueling hours of Titanbone Method training, and then long hours spent reading through the books stacked in his quarters.
The more he read, the more he understood the vastness of this new world. The histories of Valoria, the geopolitical landscape of Aetheris, the intricacies of magic, and the power structures of warriors—he absorbed everything he could. But no matter how much knowledge he gained, one truth remained absolute: Strength ruled all.
It was that truth that fueled his training.
At first, he had struggled. Executing the Titanbone Method properly even thrice in ten attempts had been an exhausting ordeal. But day by day, movement by movement, breath by breath, he improved.
By the fifth day, he was properly executing the Titanbone routine five times out of every ten attempts. His mastery of the visualization, breathing, and movement had deepened, making his post-training absorption of Emberbrew Ale far more effective. Every sip of the magical drink coursed through him with even greater intensity, reinforcing his body faster than before.
Still, he did not slow down.
He trained.
And trained.
And trained.
By the ninth day, he had broken past another wall—his success rate had climbed to eight out of ten attempts. His body had adapted, refined itself, his muscles and bones hardening in ways that could not be achieved through normal means. His physique grew denser, his endurance soared, his mental clarity sharpened.
It was working.
And today, as he once again stepped into the backyard of the Mystic Tavern alongside Garrick, he could feel it. A pressure deep within his core. A sensation that something was building, waiting to be unleashed.
Lennox watched Garrick move to his usual spot, already shifting into his own rigorous training routine. The warrior's form was impeccable—every strike fluid yet devastating, his breathing controlled, his body moving with the lethal grace of a seasoned fighter.
Lennox exhaled, clearing his mind.
This was his time.
Stepping into the center of the training ground, he spread his feet and took his stance. His breathing slowed as he regulated it into the familiar rhythm of the Titanbone Method.
In his mind, the image of the Titanbeast emerged—vast, immovable, its presence as ancient as the mountains themselves. He had long burned the image into his soul, and now, it was no longer an abstract thought but a part of him.
And then, he moved.
His fists cut through the air.
His stance shifted fluidly.
His kicks followed the breathing pattern perfectly.
This time, the training felt different. Every strike carried weight, every step carried presence. The Emberbrew Ale he had consumed before training surged through his system, melding into his efforts, fusing with the Titanbone Method.
His body absorbed it like dry earth drinking in rain.
The more he moved, the more he could feel something stirring deep inside him. It was subtle at first, a flicker of energy within his bones, but with each successive motion, it grew.
Then, twenty-five minutes in—
Something snapped.
It wasn't pain. It wasn't discomfort.
It was a shattering.
Like a lock breaking apart, a gate being flung open.
A strange, mysterious current surged from deep within his bones, spreading outward with unstoppable force. It flowed through him, down his limbs, through his veins, pulsing with raw, untapped potential.
Lennox staggered, his focus wavering for a brief moment.
Was this…?
His heart pounded as realization struck him like a hammer to the chest.
He was breaking through.
This wasn't just some minor improvement—this was the first bottleneck of the Apprentice Realm. The threshold that separated an ordinary man from a true cultivator of the warrior's path.
His mind reeled, his balance nearly breaking as excitement threatened to overtake him.
And then—
"Focus."
Garrick's voice cut through the haze, sharp and commanding.
Lennox barely managed to catch himself before he fully lost control. If he lost concentration now, he might miss his chance to advance.
His breathing steadied. His stance corrected.
He clenched his fists.
No distractions.
No hesitation.
Only the Titanbone Method.
He continued.
The energy bursting within him grew stronger, more volatile—but he refused to falter. His visualization held firm, his breathing guided the flow, his movements became the conduit.
And then—
The current inside him exploded.
A powerful, uncontrollable force erupted from his core.
His muscles seized, his limbs locked for a moment before the sheer pressure sent him stumbling. The world spun—his body felt weightless, untethered—he was about to topple.
But then—
A steady hand grabbed his shoulder, grounding him.
Garrick.
The warrior's grip was unshakable, unyielding.
"Sit," he ordered, voice firm.
Still trembling, Lennox obeyed, settling into a cross-legged position as the explosion of raw energy continued to rage within him.
His entire body throbbed, pulsed, transformed.
He could feel it.
The Titanbone Method had worked.
And within less than half a month since beginning his training, he was already breaking through.
The energy that had erupted from deep within his bones now flowed freely, surging through his body like molten fire. He could feel every fiber of his being strengthening, his muscles knitting together with newfound resilience, his very bones hardening as if reforged by an unseen smith.
For several more minutes, the transformation continued, his entire body adapting to the newfound power coursing through it. And then—
The strange sensations began to fade.
The surging current that had raged within him moments ago settled, dispersing into every corner of his body, leaving behind something new. Something stronger.
Lennox slowly opened his eyes.
And the first thing he noticed—was the power.
His entire body felt… boundless.
He clenched his fists experimentally, and a thrill shot through him. There was strength there, more than before—far more. Every inch of his being felt reinforced, like his body had been reshaped into something fitter, tougher, faster.
And not just that.
He felt lighter.
As if something had been unlocked, unburdened.
The realization hit him all at once.
He had broken through.
From a primary-stage apprentice to a secondary-stage apprentice.
Less than two weeks of training, and he had already stepped into the second tier of the apprentice realm.
A slow grin formed on Lennox's lips.
This was real.
He could feel the results of his breakthrough in his movements, in his breath, in the way his muscles coiled with raw, untapped potential.
But just as excitement surged through him—
A sharp, rancid scent hit his nose.
Lennox blinked, momentarily confused.
Then he looked down at himself—and his excitement was momentarily replaced with shock.
A greasy, dark residue coated his skin, clinging to his arms, his torso, even his legs. The substance was thick and foul-smelling, an oily discharge that oozed from his pores and soaked into his training clothes.
For a moment, he was baffled.
Then, realization struck.
This was an impurity cleanse.
Something he had read about in one of his books.
When warriors trained their bodies to the extreme—when they underwent true transformation—the old, hidden filth trapped deep within their cells and bones was expelled. It was a sign of metamorphosis, of a body refining itself into something purer, stronger.
Lennox let out a slow breath.
This… was a good thing.
But it smelled absolutely awful.
He grimaced but shook off the discomfort, his excitement far outweighing the unpleasantness. First, he needed to check his progress.
Ignoring Garrick—who still stood stoic and impassive, watching him with unreadable eyes—Lennox suddenly took off.
His legs moved instinctively, and before he knew it—
He was across the backyard.
Just moments ago, this distance would have taken effort.
But now?
He had already covered a dozen meters in the blink of an eye.
Lennox skidded to a stop, his heart hammering in his chest, but not from exhaustion—from exhilaration.
His speed was unreal.
He turned, glancing down at his hands.
This was just the beginning.
What would it feel like when he reached the peak of the apprentice realm?
What would it feel like when he finally broke past the threshold into the realm of true warriors—when he awakened chi?