The Arkaan family training hall echoed with the sharp, precise sounds of combat. Bazi, the younger brother, moved with a natural grace, his practice sword cutting through the air in perfect arcs. Sweat glistened on his brow, but his breathing remained steady. He was the pride of the family—a prodigy who had awakened his mana at just fifteen and solidified his place as a Beginner Knight.
As he paused to wipe his forehead, the murmurs of two servants stationed near the entrance caught his attention.
"Have you heard? Young Master Vicky... they say he's training day and night in the northern forests," one whispered, though not quietly enough.
The other scoffed. "Vicky? The one who can't even lift a practice sword properly? Don't make me laugh."
"No, I'm serious! Old Man Louis himself told me he's carrying stones heavier than two grown men! They say he's lifting a two hundred kilo rock!"
"Two hundred kilos? That's impossible! He couldn't even swing a twenty-kilo blade a month ago. You're spreading rumors."
Bazi's brow furrowed. Could it be true? he wondered. Is my brother actually training, or is this just another baseless rumor? He remembered their childhood together - how they used to play in these very halls, and how gradually the distance between them had grown over the years. Today, he realized he had never truly understood his older brother.
---
The scene shifted to the dense, mist-covered northern woods. There, drenched in sweat and breathing heavily, stood Vicky. His body, once thin and frail, was now taut with newly developed muscle. He stood before a massive boulder—one that indeed weighed nearly two hundred kilos.
"Reman," Vicky panted, a grin spreading across his face. "Your techniques... they're unbelievable. In just twenty-two days, I've reached the Low-Level Knight stage. I never thought it possible."
"Hmph. Do not grow complacent, boy. This is only the beginning. The true path of cultivation is long and fraught with peril." Reman's voice was stern, but a hint of pride lingered beneath the surface.
Suddenly, the rustle of leaves broke the forest's silence. Bazi emerged from the thicket, his eyes wide with disbelief. He stared at his brother—at the rock, at the sweat, at the determined fire in Vicky's eyes that he had never seen before.
"B-Brother?" Bazi stammered, unable to hide his shock. "Is that really you?"
Vicky turned, a gentle smile on his face. He doesn't even recognize me, he thought with a mix of amusement and sadness. Twenty-two days of relentless training without a single break. Not a moment of rest. It's changed me more than I realized.
"Yes, Bazi. It's me," Vicky replied, his voice calm and steady.
Bazi's mind raced. This can't be my brother. My brother was weak, hesitant. This person… he stands with confidence. His body, though still lean, looks strong and reliable. His eyes… they hold a depth I've never seen before.
"Have you… have you reached the Beginner Knight stage?" Bazi asked, his tone a blend of hope and skepticism.
"Your brother is far more than a Beginner Knight, Vicky," Reman's voice echoed privately in Vicky's mind. "I can sense it. His talent is exceptional. To awaken mana at fifteen… he is destined for greatness. But you… you are on a path even he cannot yet comprehend."
Vicky nodded slowly, choosing his words carefully. "I've been training here. Why do you ask? Do I not look like I've been training?" he said with a light chuckle.
Bazi's eyes narrowed slightly. "I heard you've been training for eight hours without rest. How is that possible? Even I need to stop and recover."
Vicky's smile didn't fade. "I have my methods. Thanks to a special body technique I've been practicing, I can store and circulate mana throughout my entire body. It enhances my stamina and strength far beyond normal limits."
Bazi's curiosity peaked. "A body technique? What is it called? Who taught you?"
"Tell him it is the 'Iron Blood Art,'" Reman guided. "But do not reveal my presence."
"It's called the Iron Blood Art," Vicky said, echoing Reman's words. "I discovered it in an old family manuscript."
Bazi looked intrigued. "And it allows you to train for hours without fatigue?"
Vicky's expression turned serious. "It wasn't easy. The first week was pure agony. My body felt like it was breaking apart. There were days I thought I wouldn't survive the pain. But I persisted."
He paused, remembering the brutal training. "The technique requires absolute focus—channeling mana not just through your core, but through every limb, every muscle, even your bones. You have to visualize the mana as a river, flowing and strengthening everything it touches."
Bazi listened, captivated. He had never heard of such a method.
"But how did you push through the pain?" Bazi asked, his earlier skepticism replaced by genuine interest.
"Willpower," Vicky replied simply. "And the knowledge that I had no other choice. Our family… we need to be strong again."
Suddenly, as if on cue, Vicky's body swayed. The weeks of relentless training, the lack of sleep, the immense strain—it all caught up to him at once. His vision blurred, and his legs gave way.
"BROTHER!" Bazi screamed, his voice filled with panic and raw fear that echoed through the forest. He lunged forward with desperate speed, catching Vicky just before his head hit the ground. Cradling his brother's limp form, Bazi's hands trembled as he felt the unnatural heat radiating from Vicky's body.
Tears welled in Bazi's eyes as he looked at Vicky's pale, unconscious face. "This is all my fault," he whispered hoarsely, his voice breaking with emotion. "I always thought you were weak... I looked down on you... but you were working harder than anyone all along." He remembered their childhood games, how they had grown apart over time, and how he had never made the effort to understand his brother's struggles.
Gently but firmly, Bazi lifted Vicky onto his shoulders, carrying him with a strength that belied his younger age. As he walked through the streets toward their home, passersby stopped and stared in shock at the unusual sight.
A shopkeeper whispered to his wife, "Look at young master Bazi carrying his brother. It seems there's genuine love between the Arkaan brothers, despite what people say."
Another townsman nodded, "I always thought they were distant, but see how carefully he carries him."
Bazi ignored the whispers, his focus entirely on getting his brother home safely. His tears left clean trails through the dust on his face as he whispered, "Hold on, brother. Please hold on."
When he finally reached the mansion gates, Louis the butler came rushing out, his eyes widening in alarm at the sight. The experienced old servant quickly assessed the situation - Bazi's tear-streaked face, Vicky's unconscious form, the concerned crowd gathering behind them.
"Young master! What happened?" Louis exclaimed, his voice filled with professional concern though his eyes showed genuine worry.
"Notify everyone immediately," Bazi commanded, his voice unusually stern yet shaking with emotion. "My brother's condition is serious. I need healers now!"
Louis bowed quickly, already signaling to other servants. "At once, young master! You there - fetch the head healer immediately! And you - prepare the medical chambers!" he barked orders even as he gently helped Bazi support Vicky's weight.
---
Three days passed.
Vicky's eyes fluttered open slowly, adjusting to the soft light filtering through his bedroom window. He felt disoriented, his mind foggy as he tried to remember what had happened. The world swam before his eyes, and a wave of dizziness made him grip the bedsheets. His stomach growled painfully, empty after three days without nourishment.
How long was I out? he wondered, his throat parched and voice barely a whisper.
"Three days," Reman's deep, resonant voice echoed in his mind immediately. "The time you think was wasted, your body used to complete its transformation."
"Three days?" Vicky muttered in disbelief, struggling to sit up as another wave of dizziness hit him. The simple movement made his head spin. "I wasted three whole days sleeping?"
"Wasted? Foolish boy!" Reman's voice held a note of ancient wisdom. "This is the natural process after mastering the Iron Blood Art. Your body needed this deep sleep to rebuild itself. Some cultivators sleep for weeks after such a breakthrough. Consider yourself fortunate."
Vicky's eyes widened in surprise. He looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers experimentally. To his amazement, he felt stronger than ever before - every muscle, every fiber of his being thrummed with power he hadn't possessed before.
"Your body has fully adapted now," Reman continued. "The foundation has been set. What's your next plan?"
A slow, confident smile spread across Vicky's face despite his weakness. "Don't worry," he said softly, his voice gaining strength. "You'll understand everything at the right time."