Two weeks slipped by in Wu Tan City like sand through an hourglass, quiet but relentless.
For Yoriichi Tsugikuni, these fourteen days were a crucible of absolute, unyielding routine. He had isolated himself from the petty squabbles of the younger generation, the political undercurrents of the elders, and the prying eyes of the city. He dedicated every waking hour to the perfection of his vessel and his craft.
In the mornings, the Southern Pass echoed with the terrifying sounds of his physical conditioning. He had pushed the Iron Fist technique to the absolute maximum limit permissible for a Dou Zhi Qi body. He no longer practiced on rocks; they shattered too easily, offering no resistance to his dense bones. Instead, he practiced on the river itself.
Standing on the muddy bank, he would channel the dense, milky-white Dou Qi swirling in his abdomen, combining it with the explosive kinetic chain of his hips and shoulders.
BOOM!
A single punch would collapse the air, sending a concussive shockwave screaming across the surface of the water. He could now consistently part the stream, creating a violent trench of displaced water that extended more than fifty meters before crashing back down in a localized hurricane of mist.
The local wildlife had long since fled the area, terrified by the daily sonic booms. To the casual observer, it looked like a high-level Dou Skill, but it was purely the result of monstrous physical mechanics and perfectly optimized Dou Qi flow.
But sheer physical force was not his only pursuit.
It was during the quiet, twilight hours in his private courtyard that Yoriichi made his most profound breakthrough.
He had realized weeks ago that without a Nichirin blade to act as a catalyst, his body was merely a sealed furnace; he could not project his solar flames from his bare skin. However, he refused to accept that the Breath of the Sun was useless without a sword. If he could not be the spark, he decided he would be the wind that commanded it.
One evening, he had built a small, chaotic bonfire in the center of his courtyard. He sat cross-legged before it, feeling the wild, flickering heat.
"Fire is chaotic by nature. It seeks to consume and expand," Yoriichi had analyzed, his crimson eyes reflecting the dancing flames. "But it requires oxygen to live. My breath dictates the flow of oxygen."
He had taken a deep breath, engaging his Total Concentration. Then, he exhaled—not a violent gust to blow the fire out, but a steady, perfectly rhythmic stream of pressurized air, laced with the hyper-heated energy of his own lungs.
The result had been miraculous. The ambient flames of the bonfire stopped their chaotic flickering. They leaned forward.
As Yoriichi adjusted the frequency of his breath, he forced the rising, scattered flames to bend completely, pointing entirely in one direction. He compressed the wide bonfire into a single, blindingly hot pillar of concentrated fire, narrow as a needle and intense enough to instantly melt the stone beneath it.
He had learned to manipulate exterior flames, bending them to his will purely through the pressure and rhythm of his breath. It was a terrifying display of control, and exactly the tool he needed for the forge.
When he wasn't training his body or his breath, he spent his time with his family, particularly his sister, Xiao Yu.
He would sit on the veranda, sipping tea, watching her practice her fluid whip techniques. He gently corrected her footwork and taught her the absolute basics of breathing rhythms.
"You are strong, Big Sister," Yoriichi had told her one evening, adjusting her shoulder posture. "But your stamina leaks like a cracked vase. Breathe from the diaphragm. Let the air pressurize your blood, not just fill your chest."
She had tried, nearly passing out from the sudden rush of oxygen, but the immediate increase in her whip's speed had left her staring at him in awe. He wanted her foundation flawless before leaving for the Jia Nan Academy.
Now, it was noon on the fourteenth day. The sun was at its zenith, beating down on the city without mercy.
Yoriichi stepped into the Smithing Hall. The ambient temperature here was at least fifty degrees higher than outside. The air shimmered with heat haze, filled with the deafening symphony of ringing anvils and roaring bellows.
He walked past the sweating apprentices, making his way to the back of the hall. Tie Shan was there, a mountain of soot and muscle, rhythmically hammering a massive tower shield. Tie Shan didn't look up, entirely immersed in the trance of the metal.
Yoriichi moved to his own designated small station. He began to organize his tools—the tongs, the flux powder, the quenching oil.
Then, he saw it.
Resting on his soot-stained anvil was a small, intricately carved wooden box. It was open. Inside, resting on a bed of velvet, was a crystalline sphere roughly the size of a plum.
It was pulsing.
The core radiated a fierce, glowing orange light, and the air immediately around it visibly distorted from the heat it emitted.
Yoriichi paused. He leaned in, his highly sensitive eyes analyzing the dense, violent energy trapped within the crystal. He searched his recently acquired mental encyclopedia of magical beasts.
"Intense heat. Erratic energy signature. A scent of burnt sulfur and wild ozone," Yoriichi deduced. "A Rank 2 Beast Core. Flame attribute... The Solar Ape."
His breath hitched slightly. The Solar Ape was a notoriously aggressive beast found deep in the Magic Beast Mountain Range. It absorbed sunlight to fuel its fire, making its core incredibly pure but notoriously difficult to tame. It was almost as rare as a low-level Rank 3 core.
A deep, gravelly chuckle rumbled behind him.
Tie Shan had stopped hammering. He walked over, wiping his brow with a dirty rag.
"I see you found it," Tie Shan said, leaning against a wooden pillar. "You can try to make your 'Katana' now with this, kid. I was lucky to spot this yesterday at the underground market."
Tie Shan crossed his massive arms. "You told me you needed a flame attribute core with a high heat yield. One that mimicked the sun. Well, here it is. Try not to blow up my hall."
Yoriichi turned around. He looked at the burly blacksmith, then back at the core. He knew the market value of a Rank 2 Solar Ape Core. It was astronomical. For Tie Shan to buy this with his own funds and simply leave it on his anvil...
"Thank you," Yoriichi said. His voice was quiet, but it carried a weight that made Tie Shan's tough exterior soften slightly. Feelings of profound gratitude couldn't be expressed in mere words; Yoriichi knew he had to honor the gift by using it wisely.
He reached under his workbench and pulled out a heavy, lead-lined box. He opened it, revealing a chunk of jagged, dark red metal.
Solar Flare Ore. He had acquired it a few days ago after practically emptying his newly earned fortune. It was a stubborn, heat-resistant metal that required extreme temperatures to melt, but it possessed unparalleled Dou Qi conductivity.
"Now is the best time," Yoriichi murmured.
He didn't hesitate. He fired up his furnace, pumping the bellows until the coals glowed a blinding, angry white.
He placed the Solar Flare Ore into the crucible.
The battle began.