Over the course of three months, Arthev's training paid off in ways that even surprised him. He spent every day not just working on his wood-based abilities and shinragan but also on his physical strength. Despite being a six-year-old, he found himself getting stronger, faster, and more agile—though, given his past life memories, he also knew how to throw a punch and a shuriken like a pro.
Arthev's shurikens and kunai were made of wood, but with his tree martial soul, their toughness had been increased by ten times. Now, with pinpoint accuracy and a bit of flair, he could pierce through a whole tree trunk. It's safe to say that if Arthev had ever gone to a wood-working competition, he'd have won first place... by accident.
Not content with just throwing pointy objects, Arthev also dabbled in something a little more flashy—something that could make even the adults in the village question their life choices. He started working on a technique resembling the Body Flicker, where he would zip around like a blur of wind. Well, sort of. He wasn't quite teleporting yet, but at his age, it felt like teleporting. He was the fastest six-year-old around, at least in his head.
However, this speed came with its own quirky challenges. Mastering the technique required more time than Arthev had expected, mostly because he had to figure out how to harness his soul power with precision, something that could be complicated even for a grown-up, let alone a six-year-old(though he is grown-up mentally). But that's where his trusty wood clones came in. Yes, he could clone himself.
You see, Arthev's wood clones were not just cute little replicas of himself. They had a special twist. Whatever they learned or experienced would be passed back to the original Arthev—but only if the clone was reabsorbed by him. If not, it was like the clone had taken a nap and forgotten everything. So, basically, Arthev had an army of little helpers who were all too happy to mess up and teach him how not to mess up—what a team player.
So, his training wasn't just grueling—it was efficient, chaotic, and a little hilarious. Each day felt like a wild, wood-chopping, time-bending journey, filled with breakthroughs, blunders, and a lot of flying shurikens. It wasn't easy... but hey at least he was never bored.
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Time flowed like a river—or more accurately, like a lazy stream in Arthev's case—because before he knew it, three months had passed in the blink of an eye. Today was the big day. He and Tang San were finally heading to Notting City to begin their journey at the Junior Soul Master Academy.
In Holy Spirit Village, both boys carried small bags slung over their shoulders, packed with a change of clothes and a few essentials. If this were an adventure novel, Arthev imagined their bags would be filled with mysterious treasures and powerful artifacts. Instead, they had spare socks and maybe a couple of dried buns—close enough, right?
After a few more words of advice from the villagers and some pats on the head (which Arthev barely tolerated), they finally set off.
As the trio walked further away, back in the village, Tang Hao stood at the door of his blacksmith shop, watching Tang San leave. His expression was unreadable, though Arthev suspected he was deep in thought—probably about his hammer or where his next drink was coming from. He didn't move from his spot until the afternoon, which, given his usual schedule, was practically considered cardio.
Meanwhile, the small traveling group made their way toward Notting City. The distance wasn't too far, but Old Jack—being the responsible (and slightly dramatic) elder that he was—insisted they take things slow. "No need to rush, boys. A proper soul master must also have patience!" he had declared with great wisdom.
Translation? They took enough breaks to make a turtle impatient.
They even stopped to eat along the way, turning what should have been a simple journey into an impromptu countryside picnic. By the time they reached Notting City, it was already afternoon.
As they stepped into the city, Arthev took a moment to admire the view. Compared to Holy Spirit Village, Notting City was bustling and lively. There were more people, bigger buildings, and the undeniable scent of city life—which, unfortunately, included the faint smell of manure from passing carriages.
But despite the grandness of the city, Old Jack had a minor issue.
He got lost.
The old man confidently led them through the streets, turning corners like he knew exactly where he was going—until, about twenty minutes later, he stopped and scratched his head.
"Ahem… well, the academy should be around here somewhere," he muttered.
Arthev sighed. Tang San politely said nothing.
Thankfully, a few kind passersby pointed them in the right direction, and with their guidance (and Old Jack pretending he totally meant to take that detour), they finally arrived at their destination.
Before them stood a tall, imposing black archway, towering over them like a silent guardian. It was easily grander than any school Arthev had ever seen in his past life.
"As expected of a soul master academy, it's so grand," he thought to himself.
Engraved on the middle of the arch were four large characters: "Notting College."
Just as Arthev was about to take a step forward and admire the place properly, a loud and obnoxious voice interrupted.
"Oi! What do you think you're doing here?"
The concierge at the gate—an adult man with an impressive scowl—glared at them.
His eyes flickered over their simple village clothes, and his lips curled into a sneer.
"Where do you country bumpkins think you're going?" he scoffed, folding his arms like he had just caught a couple of street rats trying to sneak into a palace.
Arthev blinked.
Great. Five minutes into arriving, and they had already encountered their first gatekeeping NPC.