The training was brutal. Every morning, before the sun had even begun to rise, they were forced to run. Not just laps around the dojo, but up and down the jagged cliffs that bordered the ruined town. If they stumbled, they had to start again. If they collapsed, they were left behind. Strength, the master had said, was not just in the body—it was in the will to keep moving when every muscle screamed for rest.
Their bodies were pushed to the limits with gruelling exercises—hundreds of push-ups on their knuckles, lifting heavy stones until their arms trembled, sparring until their legs barely held them up. Their hands blistered, their skin tore, and yet they continued, because stopping was never an option.
One morning, the dojo welcomed another student. A boy the same age as him, with fierce eyes and a past that was just as broken. His name was Ren, and unlike the main character, he had been raised in a noble house before being cast aside. Though their origins were different, their hunger for strength was the same.
Ren was strong, faster than him at first, sharper in combat. But he wasn't invincible. Every time they sparred, Ren won, but the gap between them shrank with every fight. The protagonist refused to accept defeat. He studied Ren's movements, learned from his footwork, adapted to his strikes. Soon, their battles were no longer one-sided.
The master watched them both carefully, his sharp gaze missing nothing. One evening, after a particularly gruelling session, he gathered them around a fire.
"Your foundation is being built," he said, voice as steady as the earth beneath them. "But strength alone is not enough. To climb the realms, you must understand your style, shape it into something unique. No two warriors walk the same path."
The boys listened as he spoke of martial evolution, a concept few mortals ever grasped. Every technique, every movement, had the potential to grow, to transcend its original form. A simple punch could become an unstoppable force. A single step could shatter the ground. But it was not power that made it possible—it was understanding.
"Adaptation is the key to mastery," the master continued. "A sword technique may evolve into a blade that cuts not just flesh, but space itself. A grappling art may become one that bends gravity. You must find the essence of your fighting style. That is the path to true power."
For weeks, they trained with this lesson in mind. They sparred endlessly, testing the limits of their own styles, pushing each other beyond exhaustion. The protagonist began to see patterns—how a single adjustment in his stance could change the momentum of a battle, how Ren's footwork relied on subtle weight shifts. They learned from each other, growing stronger together.
The days turned to months, and the looming presence of the Divine Academy Entrance Exam was a constant reminder of their goal. Only those who passed would be granted access to the first step of true power. The academy was a place where warriors were forged, where failure meant being cast aside forever.
As the exam approached, their training intensified. The master introduced them to chi flow, the ability to harness their inner energy and manipulate it beyond physical limits. It was the first true test of their potential. Nights were spent meditating under waterfalls, feeling the pulse of energy within them, controlling it like an extension of their will.
One night, as they sat beneath the stars, exhausted and aching from the day's training, Ren let out a breathless chuckle. "Can you believe it? A year ago, I didn't think I'd make it this far. Now, I can't imagine stopping."
The protagonist didn't answer right away. He had spent his life running from pain, from fear. But now, for the first time, he was running toward something. Toward strength. Toward a future that no longer felt unreachable.
"We won't stop," he finally said. "Not until we reach the top."
The Divine Academy awaited. And they would be ready.