Wushan Town, an ordinary settlement within the Kingdom of Fenlai west of the 'Warcraft Mountain Range', the foremost mountain range on the Yulan Continent.
The morning sun had just begun to rise, leaving a lingering chill of early morning in the air, yet nearly all the townsfolk of Wushan were already out working. Even children of six or seven had mostly risen to begin their traditional morning training.
In the eastern clearing of Wushan Town, the warm morning sunlight filtered through the branches of large trees bordering the open space, casting dappled spots of light across the ground.
A large group of children—estimated to number between one to two hundred—stood gathered there. Divided into three groups, each arranged in several rows, the children stood quietly on the open ground, their expressions solemn. The northernmost group consisted of children roughly six to eight years old. The middle group spanned ages nine to twelve, while the southernmost cluster comprised teenagers aged thirteen to sixteen.
Before this assembly stood three brawny middle-aged men, all dressed in sleeveless vests and coarse linen trousers.
"To become a great warrior, one must endure rigorous training from childhood," declared the leader coldly, his head held high and hands clasped behind his back. His stern gaze swept over the northernmost group of six- and seven-year-olds, who pressed their lips tightly together, their dark, round eyes fixed unwaveringly on the man, not daring to make a sound.The middle-aged man at the front was named Hilman, the captain of the guard for the Baruch Family, owners of Wushan Town.
"You're all ordinary people. You can't cultivate powerful secret manuals for cultivating battle qi like those great nobles. If you want to achieve greatness, if you don't want to be looked down upon in the future, you must train using the oldest, simplest, and most fundamental methods—strengthen your bodies, temper your strength! Do you understand?"
Hilman's gaze swept over the group of children.
**"Yes, sir!"** The youths roared loudly.
**"Good."** Hilman nodded coldly, satisfied. The six- or seven-year-old children mostly wore expressions of vague comprehension, while the teenagers in their teens had firm resolve in their eyes. They understood the meaning behind Hilman's words.
Across the Yulan Continent, nearly every man trained diligently from childhood. Those who did not work hard would be despised! A man's status was determined by strength and wealth. Even women would look down on a man without power.
To make their parents proud, to earn the admiration of girls, to live gloriously in the future—
They had to become mighty warriors!
As commoners, they could not cultivate precious battle qi manuals. Their only path was to temper their bodies and strength from youth—relentlessly, ruthlessly! To pour more effort and sweat into their training than the nobles!
"At dawn, as the sun rises, all life flourishes. This is the optimal time to absorb the essence of heaven and earth and enhance our physical potential. As always: stand with your legs apart, shoulder-width, knees slightly bent, hands positioned at your waist in the **'Qi Condensing Stance'**. When holding this stance, remember—**'focus your mind, maintain inner calmness, and breathe naturally.'**" Hilman instructed coldly.The "Qi-Concentrating Stance" is the simplest yet highly effective method for physical training, accumulated through countless years of ancestral experience.
Immediately, one to two hundred children assumed the posture required by the "Qi-Concentrating Stance."
"Remember, focus your attention, keep your mind calm, and breathe naturally!" Hilman walked among the group of youths, speaking coldly.
At a glance, it was evident that the teenagers in the southern group, aged around their teens, were all concentrated, breathing naturally. Each had achieved the criteria of "depth, steadiness, and stability," clearly demonstrating some mastery of the "Qi-Concentrating Stance."
However, looking at the northern group of six- or seven-year-old children, their knees were bent to varying degrees, their legs slack and weak, utterly lacking strength and stability.
Hilman said to two other middle-aged men, "You two will oversee the southern and central groups. I'll manage the young children."
"Yes, Captain," the two men responded promptly. They then began carefully observing the central and southern groups, occasionally kicking the legs of those boys to test their stability.
Hilman strode toward the northern cluster of six- and seven-year-olds. The children immediately became nervous.
"Oh no, the big bad is here," whispered a golden-haired child with large eyes named Hadley.Hillman stepped into the center of the group of children. Gazing at them, his face remained stern, but inwardly he sighed: "These children are still too young. Both physically and mentally, they're far from ready. We can't demand too much from them. Yet physical training must start early. Only through rigorous cultivation from childhood will they have a better chance of survival on the battlefield in the future."
And when teaching young children... guiding them and inspiring them was the most effective method! Force would only backfire!
"Line up properly," Hillman snorted coldly.
Immediately, the children straightened their postures, chests out and eyes forward.
A faint smile crept onto Hillman's lips. He then strode to the front and removed his vest, revealing muscle lines that made the children's eyes widen. Even the older boys from the central and southern groups gazed enviously at Hillman's physique.
Beyond the near-perfect muscle definition, Hillman's bare torso bore knife scars, sword marks, and dozens of other wounds. All the children stared at those scars with burning intensity.
Scars from blades and swords—these were a man's medals!
Every one of them held deep admiration for Hillman. A level-six warrior, a hero tempered through life-and-death trials! Even in large cities, he'd be considered remarkable. In Wushan Town, he was revered as a true legend.
Noticing the fiery passion in the children's eyes, Hillman's smile deepened. This was exactly what he wanted—their awe and longing. Such emotions would drive them to train harder, with greater purpose.
"Time to stoke the flames," Hillman thought, suppressing a grin. He walked toward a massive stone lock weighing three to four hundred catties.
With a single hand, Hillman gripped the stone lock and effortlessly began swinging it. The hefty weight moved as if it were made of wood. The children watched, eyes bulging and mouths agape."Too light, Rory. After training, when you have time, go make a few larger stone locks." Hillman casually flung a stone lock, which flew over a dozen meters before landing with a "thud!" beside a large tree, causing the ground to tremble. He then walked toward a pile of scattered rocks.
"Huff!"
Hillman inhaled deeply, his muscles visibly swelling. He suddenly punched toward a bluish-gray stone, his fist slicing through the air with a sharp whistling sound that made the nearby children widen their eyes. The massive fist struck the giant stone with full force.
"Crash!" The heavy, muffled impact of fist meeting rock made all the children's hearts lurch.
This was solid granite.
The stone shook several times before splitting into seven or eight cracks, finally shattering completely with a "boom!" Hillman's fist remained completely unscathed.
"The Captain's still as formidable as ever," said Rory, one of the two other middle-aged men, smiling as he approached Hillman.
The other man, Roger, also walked over. Whenever the children practiced their "Qi Condensing Stance," these three instructors would chat leisurely, occasionally glancing to ensure none of the youngsters slacked off.
Hillman shook his head with a smile. "Not what I used to be. Back in my army days, I trained desperately every day and fought bloody battles on the battlefield. Now, I just stretch my limbs occasionally—nothing like the fiery passion of those years."All the children looked at Hillman with admiration.
That massive bluestone was shattered into pieces with a single punch. What kind of power was this? That three- to four-hundred-pound stone lock was swung around effortlessly. What kind of strength was this?
Hillman turned around, observing the gazes of the children, and felt deeply satisfied with their reactions.
"Remember," he said sternly, "even without relying on martial energy, it is theoretically possible to become a sixth-rank warrior purely by pushing your physical body to its limits through training! And a sixth-rank warrior can easily become a mid-level officer in the military, gaining access to martial energy cultivation methods. Even if you don't reach the sixth rank, just becoming a basic first-rank warrior qualifies you to join the army. Remember this: a man who cannot even reach the first rank is no man at all!" Hillman's expression turned icy.
"A true man stands tall, faces any challenge head-on, and never cowers in fear!"
Hearing these words, the six- and seven-year-olds couldn't help but crack faint smiles, struggling to hold back laughter. This line was Hillman's signature phrase, one he repeated often during training.
"Stand properly, all of you! Look at the older boys to the south—see how they hold their stance!" Hillman barked.
The young children immediately straightened themselves, straining to mimic the older boys' posture.After a while, those six- and seven-year-old children began to stagger. Each child felt their legs aching terribly, but they gritted their teeth and persisted. However, they could only hold on for a short while before collapsing one after another, sitting limply on the ground.
Hilman's face remained stern, though inwardly he nodded with approval. The performance of these young children, barely six or seven years old, still satisfied him.
Not long after, even within the central group of children around ten years old, some began to falter. One by one, they dropped to the ground and sat down.
"Hold on as long as you can. I won't force you, but if you fall short of others in the future, you'll have only yourselves to blame," Hilman said coldly.
"Hmm?" Rory suddenly exclaimed in surprise, glancing toward the northern group.
By now, many children in the central ten-year-old group had already collapsed. Yet in the northern group, there was still a six-year-old child persisting.
"Linley is here for training for the first time today, and he's already this remarkable!" Rory remarked in astonishment. Beside him, Roger and Hilman also turned their attention. Hilman looked over and saw that in the northern group, only one brown-haired boy remained standing. The boy pursed his lips, his gaze fixed ahead with unwavering determination, his small fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white.A glint of surprise flashed in Hillman's eyes.
"Good lad!" Hillman exclaimed inwardly. At merely six years old, this child had already matched the performance of ten-year-olds in the "Breath Holding Stance." Such talent offered a glimpse of extraordinary potential.
Leylin, full name Leylin Baruch, was the eldest son of the Baruch family that ruled over Wushan Township. The Baruch clan was an ancient lineage once renowned for its glory. Yet after thousands of years, only three members remained: patriarch Hogg Baruch and his two sons. The elder son, Leylin Baruch, was just six years old, while the younger, Wharton Baruch, had barely turned two. The matriarch of the Baruch family had perished shortly after Wharton's birth, and Leylin's grandfather had fallen in battle years earlier.
Leylin's legs trembled violently. Even with his iron will, muscles pushed beyond their limits finally betrayed him. He collapsed onto the ground.
"How do you feel, Leylin?" Hillman approached with a warm smile.
Leylin grinned, revealing tiny tiger-like teeth. "I'm fine, Uncle Hillman." As captain of the Baruch family guards, Hillman had watched Leylin grow from infancy. Their bond ran deep.
"Well done. You've got a man's spirit." Hillman ruffled the boy's hair, transforming it into a bird's nest of disheveled strands.
"Heh heh." Leylin's grin widened, heart swelling at his mentor's praise.After resting for a while, they resumed training. The six- or seven-year-old children had much lighter training intensity, while the teenagers in their teens endured terrifyingly harsh regimens.
The group of teenagers, including the younger children, each rested their heads and feet on flat stones, their entire bodies suspended mid-air and supported solely by the strength of their waists.
"Waist, hips—this triangular zone," Hillman gestured toward the abdominal area with both hands. "This area is the core of the entire body. Whether it's speed or strength, everything originates from this central triangular region. This core triangle is crucial."
As he spoke, Hillman paced around, closely inspecting each teenager's posture for correctness.
"Lift up! Don't let your waist sag!" Hillman barked.
Immediately, many teenagers strained to arch their waists upward. Lin Lei, attempting this for the first time today, balanced his small head and feet on two flat stones. By now, his waist already felt scorching hot and sore.
"Hold on, hold on. I'm the best," Lin Lei silently encouraged himself. Since childhood, his physical fitness had been exceptional—he had hardly ever fallen ill. Coupled with his iron willpower, his outstanding performance was hardly surprising.
*Thud!* The first child collapsed to the ground.The flat stones used for pillows and feet were only about twenty centimeters high. Even if a child fell off, they wouldn't get hurt. (The alchemists of the Yulan Continent had established the units of length: *1 meter = 10 decimeters = 100 centimeters = 1000 millimeters.*)
*Thud! Thud!*… As time passed, one child after another couldn't hold on any longer.
Lin Lei clenched his teeth tightly. He could clearly feel his waist aching to the point of numbness, nearly losing all sensation. *My body feels so heavy. I can't hold on much longer. Keep going. Just a little longer.* By now, among the six-to-eight-year-old group, only Lin Lei remained persevering.
Hillman glanced at Lin Lei, his eyes flashing with pleased approval.
"Rui!" Hillman barked suddenly.
"Captain!" Rui snapped to attention, awaiting orders.
Hillman commanded, "Tomorrow, prepare some dye. When they train their waists, place a branch under each of their waists with dye applied on it. If anyone slacks off and lets their waist touch the branch, staining themselves with dye, their training load will be doubled."
"Yes, Captain!" Rui responded loudly, though his lips twitched slightly. He stifled a laugh inwardly. *The captain's tricks never end. Those kids are in for it.*
And they were.
The teenagers' faces twisted with dread. Normally, they could slack off with subtle adjustments, but with Hillman's new method, slacking became impossible.
Hillman continued coldly, "Let me make this clear: when a warrior cultivates battle qi, the qi is stored *here*—" He pointed below his navel. "About one fist's width below the navel. You should understand now why training the core triangle region is vital. This area is the *foundation*. If it's weak, no amount of training elsewhere will matter."A good instructor is extremely important for children.
And Hillman was a great warrior. He understood the key points of training, the necessity of progressing step by step, and the appropriate level of exertion children of different ages should reach. If the intensity was too high, it could cause the children's bodies to collapse under the strain.
"Battle Qi?"
Hearing this term, the teenagers, as well as the younger children resting nearby, widened their eyes and stared at Hillman.
For battle qi, those commoner children were filled with anticipation. Even Linley, a descendant of a declining noble family, yearned deeply for it.
*Thud!*
Linley himself finally couldn't hold on any longer. Still, he managed to brace himself with his arms, slowly lowering himself to the ground.
"So comfortable!" Linley felt a numbing sensation spreading through his sore waist as he rested. The feeling seeped deep into his muscles, as if reaching his bones. The comfort was so intense that Linley slightly narrowed his eyes in contentment.
"How many fell before me?" Linley suddenly opened his eyes and glanced around.
All the children in the six-to-eight-year-old group had already collapsed. Even among the ten-year-olds in the center, more than half had fallen. Only the teenagers aged fourteen or fifteen persisted. Meanwhile, Hillman continued coldly, his voice stern:
"Remember this—the body is like a vessel, a wine glass. Battle qi is like the wine! How much wine a glass can hold depends on its size. Similarly… the ultimate achievement of one's battle qi cultivation depends on the degree of physical training. If the body is too weak, even with powerful battle qi manuals, one's body cannot withstand much battle qi. Such a person will never become a formidable warrior." Hillman imparted these crucial truths to the children.Many warriors, having received no guidance in their youth, only realized the crucial relationship between physical strength and battle qi in their later years. By then, they were already too aged for physical training to yield significant results.
Countless predecessors had accumulated hard-won wisdom through circuitous paths. Yet Hillman, through his persistent teachings, quietly imprinted these vital lessons deep in the children's minds like gentle spring rain. He refused to let these youngsters repeat those winding roads.
...
After enduring the "Qi Condensing Posture" - coordinated training for waist, legs, shoulders, back, and every body part - nearly all the children collapsed onto the ground. Hillman's regimen proved perfectly calibrated to their limits.
"Today's morning session concludes," Hillman announced.
The training schedule in Wushan Town followed strict regularity: twice daily, once at dawn and again at dusk.
"Uncle Hillman! Tell us a story!" came immediate shouts after dismissal. The ritual of post-training tales - whether military chronicles or continental legends - had become precious windows to worlds beyond their secluded township.
For these children raised within mountain mists, stories of distant battlefields and foreign lands burned like kindling in their hearts. Hillman smiled faintly. This storytelling tradition served dual purposes: feeding young imaginations while secretly fueling their training motivation. He firmly believed true achievement only blossomed from self-driven aspiration."Today, I will tell you about the four legendary Supreme Warriors of the entire continent!" Hillman's face took on a trace of reverence.
The children immediately perked up their ears, eyes shining brightly. Even Linley, sitting on the ground, felt his heart pound violently: "The legendary four Supreme Warriors?" Unconsciously, Linley's ears pricked up as he stared intently at Hillman.
Hillman's eyes glowed with excitement, though his voice remained steady: "On our continent, thousands of years ago, there once existed four Supreme Warriors. Each of them possessed strength comparable to that of a dragon. They could roam freely amidst a million soldiers, effortlessly claiming the heads of enemy generals! These four Supreme Warriors were the Dragonblood Warrior, the Violetflame Warrior, the Tigertattoo Warrior, and the Undying Warrior!"
"Warriors are divided into nine ranks. I, merely a sixth-level warrior, can shatter boulders and kick apart trees with ease! A ninth-level warrior would likely be considered the strongest in our Kingdom of Fenlai. Above ninth-level warriors stand the four Supreme Warriors. They transcend ninth-level warriors, standing at the pinnacle of warriors—legendary Saint-level experts!" Hillman's eyes brimmed with longing. "Legendary Saint-level experts can melt colossal icebergs, make the boundless seas roar in fury, crumble mountain peaks that pierce the clouds, reduce cities of millions to ruins, and make the sky rain down endless meteors! They are invincible, supreme existences."
Silence fell. All the children were utterly awestruck.Hillman pointed toward the mountain in the northeast direction.
"Look at Wushan. Isn't it massive?" Hillman said with a laugh.
The children, still stunned by everything Hillman had told them earlier, nodded repeatedly. Wushan Mountain soared thousands of meters high and stretched several kilometers long—truly a colossal entity in the eyes of humans.
"But a Saint-level expert could obliterate this mountain in the blink of an eye," Hillman declared with absolute certainty.
A sixth-ranked warrior might shatter a massive boulder with a single palm strike, while a Saint-level expert could annihilate an entire mountain. The children's jaws dropped, eyes widening in awe. Their hearts trembled with fear, yet they also burned with longing and fervent aspiration toward the realm of Saint-level power.
"Destroy a mountain?" Hillman's words shook Linley to his core.
Before long, the group of children, still reeling from the shock, began dispersing and heading home. Hillman, Rory, and Roger lingered behind, watching as the clusters of youngsters vanished into the distance. A smile crept onto Hillman's face.
"These children... they are the future hope of Wushan Town," Hillman murmured softly.Lori and Roger also watched this group of children. Across the continent, commoners' children from nearly every region trained hard from a young age. Seeing these children, Lori and Roger seemed to glimpse their own childhood and teenage years again.
"Captain Hillman, you're far more capable than old Potter from our time. With your training, I believe Wushan Town will become the strongest among the dozen surrounding towns," Lori remarked with emotion.
The strength of the instructor determines the future of a place.
"By the way, Captain, how did you know Saint-level experts and the Four Ultimate Warriors are that powerful?" Lori suddenly asked curiously.
Hillman chuckled sheepishly: "Actually, I don't really know how powerful the Four Ultimate Warriors are either. After all, they're legendary figures. No one's seen them for countless years."
"You don't know, yet you lied to the children?" Lori and Roger said speechlessly.
Hillman smiled faintly: "Though I'm unclear about the Four Ultimate Warriors' true power, I do know that Saint Magisters - magic scholars who've reached the Saint-level - can cast forbidden magic capable of annihilating armies of hundreds of thousands and destroying entire cities. If Saint-level magicians possess such might, I imagine Saint-level warriors shouldn't be far inferior.""Moreover, telling children these things gives them inner motivation. Didn't you see the look of longing on their faces after hearing the story?" Hillman chuckled triumphantly.
Lorry and Roger could only remain speechless.
...
"Ray, goodbye."
"Hadley, goodbye."
After bidding farewell to his good friend Hadley, Linley walked alone toward his home. Soon, he caught sight of the Baruch family's mansion.
The Baruch family's estate covered a vast area, its walls overgrown with moss, ivy, and other creeping plants. The courtyard walls bore the marks of countless years. The mansion in Wushan Town was the ancestral home of the Baruch family—a residence that had been passed down for five thousand years. Through continuous repairs over millennia, it still stood firm.
However, as the family declined, their financial situation worsened. Eventually, they could only rely on dwindling savings. Over a century ago, the then-head of the Baruch family made a decision: all family members would occupy only the front courtyard manor, which occupied one-third of the entire estate. The rear courtyards and other sections were no longer maintained or repaired, saving considerable expenses.Even so, by now, Linley's father, Hogg 'Baruch', still needed to frequently sell off family possessions to sustain their livelihood.
The towering gates of the estate stood open.
"Saint-level warrior?" Linley murmured while walking, "Could I become a saint-level warrior someday?"
"Linley!" Hillman's voice called from behind. Hillman, Roy, and Roger—the last to depart—now caught up.
Linley turned, immediately brightening, "Uncle Hillman!"
Taking a deep breath, the boy gazed up at Hillman with nervous anticipation, "Uncle Hillman, you said saint-level warriors are so powerful. Then... could I possibly become one?" Linley's heart held the same longing most children harbored.
Hillman froze. Beside him, Roy and Roger similarly stiffened.
Saint-level warrior?
"These children really dare to dream big," Hillman thought inwardly. "The Kingdom of Fenlai has tens of millions of citizens, yet even so, hasn't produced a single saint-level expert in centuries. To become a saint-level expert..." Hillman knew all too well the staggering difficulty of reaching such heights."It requires diligent cultivation from childhood, family nurturing, personal talent, and opportunities... and so on. Becoming a Saint-level warrior is anything but easy."
Hillman knew all too well the hardships he had endured to become a sixth-ranked warrior, how many times he had brushed with death. If reaching the sixth rank was this arduous, the seventh, eighth, and ninth ranks were unimaginably harder. As for the Saint level? Hillman dared to dream of it only in his sleep.
Yet facing Linley's eager gaze,
"Linley, Uncle Hillman believes in you. You will become a Saint-level warrior," Hillman said firmly, locking eyes with the boy. That simple encouragement ignited a blazing light in Linley's eyes, kindling an unprecedented fervor in his heart—a hunger more intense than any he'd ever known.
"Uncle Hillman, can I train with the central group starting tomorrow?" Linley suddenly asked.
Hillman, Rory, and Roger all turned to him in surprise.
"Father always says that to rise above others, one must exert far greater effort than them," Linley declared, unconsciously mirroring his father's authoritative tone.Hillman suddenly smiled. He had witnessed Linley's training that day. Despite being only six years old, Linley's physical fitness rivaled that of nine or ten-year-old children. Nodding immediately, Hillman chuckled, "Alright, but don't back out later. Remember, this isn't just for a day or two—it'll be a long-term commitment."
Linley raised his small head high, flashing a confident grin. "Uncle Hillman, just wait and see."
This was an utterly ordinary morning in Wushan Town, and each subsequent day would follow the same pattern. The group of children from Wushan Town continued their rigorous training under the guidance of Hillman, a sixth-ranked warrior. The sole difference from before was that six-year-old Linley had been assigned to the team of children around ten years old.