The next morning, Ashura appeared early in the center of the training ground, dressed in training gear, waiting for his father's arrival.
Afengtian walked in, looking somewhat tired, and gazed at the tall and handsome young man standing before him. A sense of pride inexplicably rose in his heart. He thought to himself, "My genes are just great—look at how outstanding all my children are!"
Ashura, on the other hand, looked at his father with a puzzled expression, noticing that his father's mouth corners were twitching with a suppressed smile. He also noticed faint scratch marks on his father's right neck, but couldn't figure out what had happened. What he didn't know was that after Afengtian had told Qin Lan of his decision the previous night, Qin Lan had almost fought him, even pulling out her magic wand! After much persuasion, he managed to calm her down, explaining his difficult position. The Blackwater family was using their influence to pressure the King of Olay Country to deal with the A family, and Ashura's departure might be the best choice...
Regaining his composure, Afengtian said sternly, "Time is tight. I'll now teach you the family's ultimate skill, the Thunder Fist. Pay attention and remember it well. After learning it, leave immediately for the academy. Do you understand?"
Ashura nodded firmly, "I will learn it carefully!"
With that, Afengtian said no more. He immediately began demonstrating the eight forms of the Thunder Fist in the training ground. As he demonstrated, he explained the key points of the martial arts technique and his personal insights.
Ashura stood by, watching his father's every movement without blinking.
In the King's Domain, martial arts and magic skills were divided into five levels: White, Green, Blue, Purple, and Yellow, from lowest to highest. The higher the level, the rarer the skill. The Thunder Fist, the A family's martial art, was a Blue-tier skill. Even the royal family of Olay Country might not possess a Purple-tier martial art, let alone a Yellow-tier one.
The Thunder Fist was a fierce and powerful style. Once mastered, every punch would create a thunderous sound, with internal energy penetrating the enemy's body! When practiced to a small level, there would be two thunder sounds and two instances of internal energy penetration; when perfected, there would be three thunder sounds and three penetrations, each stronger than the last.
Afengtian had spent nearly thirty years perfecting the Thunder Fist and had reached the pinnacle of its power. Every punch was accompanied by three thunderclaps, making it a technique that had reached its highest form.
After performing the last punch, with three thunderclaps, Afengtian finished and calmed his breath. Turning to his son, he asked, "This is our family's ultimate skill, the Thunder Fist. You didn't want to learn it before, but now that I've demonstrated it, how much of it have you remembered?"
Ashura tilted his head and thought for a moment, then replied, "I remember it all!"
Afengtian paused, thinking of his son's exceptional memory, and said, "Good. Then show me what you've learned. Don't be afraid to make mistakes—feel the power in the punches!"
Ashura stepped forward, stood tall, and began recalling the movements and techniques his father had demonstrated. He suddenly raised his head and started executing the moves, one by one.
At first, Afengtian's face held a look of sternness, but as he watched, his expression changed to one of shock. His third son, Ashura, executed every punch perfectly, even the smallest details were precise!
He wasn't sure whether the internal energy and power of the punches were correct, but then, as Ashura threw the final punch, a thunderous clap rang out.
Afengtian stood frozen in place. It seemed as if a bolt of lightning had struck him!
Ashura, hearing the thunderclap, was overjoyed! He knew that the sound of thunder meant his Thunder Fist had been executed correctly. Unfortunately, only the final punch had thunder, but still, it was progress.
He turned to his father, hoping for some guidance. However, when he looked at Afengtian, he found his father staring at him, mouth agape, motionless.
"Father?" Ashura called out twice, finally waking Afengtian from his stupor.
Afengtian suppressed the shock in his heart and slowly spoke, "Not bad. Have you practiced the Thunder Fist before?"
Ashura shook his head. "I know that Big Brother and Second Brother practice this style, but I never watched them practice it. I always got a headache when I saw martial arts before!"
Afengtian let out a long sigh. "Then practice properly. Remember the movements and the way to exert force. Once you can make thunder with every punch, you can leave!"
Ashura nodded seriously. "I will work hard to master it as soon as possible!"
Afengtian waved his hand, signaling his son to continue practicing. He turned and walked away, but his tightly gripped hand betrayed the unease in his heart.
He thought back to when he was fourteen. A Adolf had also personally taught him the Thunder Fist, demonstrating it three times before he remembered the moves and techniques. He clearly recalled that after practicing for eight days, he finally produced a thunderclap. His father, A Adolf, had smiled proudly and praised him as a good disciple.
Now, as he taught his own children, A Naga had taken just four days to produce the thunder, Asubo took seven, but his third son, who had always been rebellious and hated practicing, had produced thunder with his very first attempt! How could his heart remain calm?
Meanwhile, the sound of thunder continued to echo across the training ground, telling him that what he had just seen was no accident.
Afengtian alternated between frowning and secretly smiling, before suddenly punching a large tree beside him. The tree shook violently, and leaves fell to the ground.
He muttered angrily, "Where has this damn kid been all this time?"
Unaware that he had wounded his father's fragile pride, Ashura remained completely focused on practicing the Thunder Fist, never leaving the training ground for an entire day. He ate only simple food brought by the servants, quickly swallowing it before continuing his practice.
Some people outside the training ground watched him in secret—there were some standing with their hands behind their backs, some holding wine jars, some sitting in wheelchairs, some with hair tied in buns, and others whose hair had turned white...
The boy practiced tirelessly, not stopping until the first rays of sunlight broke through at dawn. By then, every punch Ashura threw had the thunderous sound that signaled he had perfected the Thunder Fist!
Exhausted, Ashura collapsed to the ground, grinning widely, relishing the joy of success in his training, a joy he had never experienced before.
And as a few figures silently turned and left, their lighter steps conveyed a sense of hope rising within the General's Manor...
At noon, Ashura quietly packed his belongings.
He knew that time was running out. He needed to reach Saint Goban Academy as soon as possible to take the entrance exam—this was his only chance!
Just then, a belt was handed to him from behind. The young man turned to see his grandfather, Adolf, smiling kindly.
Before Ashura could speak, Adolf said, "Third boy, fasten this belt. It has a storage space—though only about the size of a study, it'll be very convenient for you on your journey."
Ashura recognized this belt. It was a reward from the King himself, given to his grandfather for his contributions to Olay Kingdom's founding—a symbol of honor earned through blood and battle. And now, his grandfather was passing it to him for his journey.
The young man choked up. "Grandfather, I can't—"
Before he could finish, Adolf waved a hand to stop him. "No need for words. It's just a storage belt. If it's useful to you, then that's its greatest value! I can't give you much else, but I hope your journey in pursuit of knowledge goes smoothly."
Ashura gritted his teeth and nodded firmly. He then fastened the belt around his waist and, with a thought, accessed its storage space.
It wasn't large, but it was enough for weapons, clothes, and rations.
Adolf looked at his tall and strong grandson with satisfaction, as if seeing his own younger self.
Just then, Qin Lan walked in carrying a wooden box, looking at her third son with a complicated expression.
This youngest son had always been the most mischievous, the one who angered her the most, but also the one who knew best how to charm her.
"These are some healing pills left by your grandfather. Though they aren't of the highest grade, they are practical. Take this set of silver needles as well—be careful when you're out there, and don't let yourself get hurt…"
Hearing his mother's nagging, the younger Ashura would have long covered his ears and run away. But now, he couldn't bear to interrupt her.
Then, Asubo wheeled Anaga into the room. Today, Asubo wasn't drinking; he had returned to his old, martial-obsessed self.
He took out a pair of twin blades from behind his back and said, "Ashura, since you're heading out to train, I don't have much to give you. These twin blades are of decent quality—take them for self-defense."
Ashura grinned as he accepted them, spinning one in his hand and laughing, "Thanks, Second Brother! With these, I look even more like a true warrior!"
Seeing his carefree attitude, Asubo couldn't help but feel better.
Even Anaga, who had been silent since the incident, finally smiled. He took out a pouch and handed it to Ashura. "Third Brother, I don't have much to give you—take this pouch of gold coins for your journey."
Ashura looked at the pouch but didn't take it immediately. Instead, he frowned and asked, "Is this the dowry money for Sister-in-law?"
Anaga's smile froze for a moment, then he gave a bitter chuckle. "The Blackwater family is too powerful. Even though she refused to marry at all costs, the Prime Minister's Xu family has already returned the dowry."
After a pause, he forced a smile. "Take it. I don't need it anymore. If you don't, I'll just leave it for Second Brother's wedding instead—don't come complaining later that I'm playing favorites!"
Ashura looked at his eldest brother—the one who had always stood in front of him when danger came, the one who always pleaded for him when he made mistakes.
Suddenly, he smiled faintly. "Alright then, consider this an investment in my future as a great warrior. Once I become strong, I'll repay you a hundredfold! This will be the best deal you've ever made."
Anaga laughed helplessly, then nodded deeply and handed over the pouch.
Just then, a small, delicate hand also reached out.
Inside were a few gold coins.
Tear-streaked, Azhiya sobbed, "Then I'll invest in Third Brother too. Remember to pay me back a hundredfold when you become strong!"
Ashura pulled his little sister into a hug, then took the coins.
"I, Ashura, always keep my word—no cheating! One day, I'll give you a whole pouch of gold as your dowry!"
Azhiya broke into a smile, her face flushing red as she hid in their mother's embrace.
The A family had always been frugal. They kept their children's expenses minimal, and any extra money was used to compensate wounded soldiers.
The few gold coins Azhiya gave were her saved-up New Year's money—her entire fortune…
After packing everything, Ashura stepped out of the room.
His father, Afengtian, opened his mouth as if to say something but hesitated.
Ashura turned around and declared with determination, "I will become strong and return to protect our family. Wait for me!"
With that, he took one last deep look at everyone, as if wanting to engrave their images into his memory.
After reading it, he didn't stop and ran a few steps to climb over the wall.
He knew that there were spies from the Blackwater Family outside the door, and he would be targeted if he went out through the main gate.
The boy thought to himself: "Blackwater Family, wait for me. Today you forced me to climb over the wall and leave. I will come back to tear down your ancestral hall tomorrow!"
The running boys disappeared at the end of the street...