More than a week had passed since the Soul Skill Training Room had been opened for regular use.
Nearly four months had gone by since the letter from Shrek Academy arrived.
At first, the passage of time had felt vague—blurred by travel between cities, the hunt for Evil Spirit Masters, negotiations, and constant training. But now, standing in the Lin Clan's inner training grounds, Lin Huang felt it clearly.
Four months had already been spent.
There were one year and eight months left.
Enough time to prepare.
Not enough time to drift.
The training grounds were quiet when Lin Huang arrived.
Not empty—quiet.
Ji Juechen was already there, standing alone in the central field. His sword was unsheathed, but his posture was relaxed in a way it had never been before. His breathing was steady. His gaze clear.
He did not turn immediately when Lin Huang approached.
"I did it," Ji Juechen said.
No excitement.No hesitation.
He lifted his sword and executed a single cut.
There was no sound.
The blade passed through the air without resistance, without vibration, without excess. The space in front of him parted cleanly, as if the world itself had decided not to interfere.
Lin Huang felt it instantly.
Sword Intent.
Not unstable.Not raw.
Forged.
"Good," Lin Huang said.
Ji Juechen finally turned. His eyes were sharp—but calm.
"Fight me."
Lin Huang shook his head lightly.
"Not today."
Ji Juechen frowned. "Why?"
"We still have time," Lin Huang replied. "Don't spend everything the moment you get it."
For a moment, Ji Juechen looked dissatisfied.
Then he exhaled slowly.
"…Later."
He sheathed his sword.
By the time the others arrived, the field had already regained its rhythm.
Ma Xiaotao rolled her shoulders as she walked in, faint heat radiating from her skin. Xu Tianzhen followed not far behind, eyes half-closed, breathing slow and deliberate.
Meng Hongchen yawned exaggeratedly."So early again. You people are obsessed."
Xiao Hongchen was already checking readings at a nearby console."You're late by twelve minutes."
Meng glared at him. "I was emotionally early."
Su Mei arrived last, carrying several containers filled with carefully prepared food and liquids. She placed them at the edge of the field, eyes already scanning posture, breathing, and tension levels.
Lin Huang watched Ma Xiaotao and Xu Tianzhen closely.
Four months ago, both of them would have been forcing their flames outward, trying to overpower their own nature.
Now, something was different.
"Interesting," Lin Huang said casually. "Both of you stopped fighting your element."
Ma Xiaotao snorted. "You make it sound like we suddenly got smart."
Xu Tianzhen didn't respond immediately. He simply adjusted his stance.
Lin Huang continued, "Four months ago, your flames moved first. Your thoughts followed. Now it's the other way around."
That got their attention.
Ma Xiaotao stepped forward.
She didn't unleash her fire immediately.
Instead, she inhaled deeply.
Her breathing changed—slow, controlled, cyclical. The Phoenix Breathing Technique was not something Lin Huang had taught directly. It was something she had pieced together herself, using the structural principles he had hammered into all of them.
Fire did not need to explode.
It could circulate.
As she exhaled, flames rose around her body—not violently, but smoothly. They flared, collapsed inward, and rose again, each cycle cleaner and more stable than the last.
Ma Xiaotao frowned slightly.
"…That felt different."
"Because you corrected the mistake before making it," Lin Huang said.
She tried again.
This time, the flames responded faster. Less waste. Less backlash.
Xu Tianzhen observed quietly. "You're not pushing anymore."
Ma Xiaotao smirked. "Don't get used to it."
Lin Huang shook his head. "That's not what changed. You stopped arguing with the fire."
Ma Xiaotao inhaled again, then exhaled slowly.
"…It still wants to burn."
"Yes," Lin Huang replied. "And you let it. Just not everywhere."
She laughed softly.
Xu Tianzhen stepped forward next.
Unlike Ma Xiaotao, he didn't summon visible flames at all.
He stood still.
Breathing.
Long inhalation.Brief retention.Steady release.
The Solar Breathing Technique.
Where Ma Xiaotao's fire moved in cycles, Xu Tianzhen's fire was constant. The air around him grew heavier—not hotter, but denser, as if pressure itself had increased.
Meng squinted. "Why does it suddenly feel like noon?"
Xu Tianzhen opened his eyes slowly. "Because I stopped trying to burn brighter."
Lin Huang nodded. "The sun doesn't flare to prove it exists."
Xu Tianzhen considered that.
"It just remains," he said.
"Yes," Lin Huang replied. "And that's why it's feared."
Xu Tianzhen adjusted his breathing again. The pressure stabilized, no longer spreading uncontrollably.
Su Mei approached and handed him a container. "Drink. You're stable, but dry."
He obeyed without question.
They trained side by side after that.
Not in combat.
In resonance.
The Phoenix's cyclical fire brushed against the Sun's constant presence. Where Ma Xiaotao overextended, Xu Tianzhen noticed first. Where Xu Tianzhen hesitated, Ma Xiaotao corrected him.
Each mistake was caught earlier than the last.
Su Mei intervened only when necessary—adjusting rest, hydration, and breathing cadence.
"This isn't control," Lin Huang said quietly as he watched them."It's understanding."
Neither of them argued.
They felt it.
As the sun climbed higher, the training slowed.
Not because they were exhausted—but because they had reached the point where continuing would add noise instead of clarity.
Lin Huang looked around the field.
"Four months gone," he said calmly. "One year and eight months left."
Xu Tianzhen nodded. "Plenty of time."
Ma Xiaotao exhaled. "And not that much."
Ji Juechen rested his hand on his sword. "Good."
Lin Huang's gaze drifted briefly to Meng, who was watching in silence, arms crossed.
He said nothing.
Not yet.
Training did not end when the flames settled.
It merely changed direction.
The field grew quieter as Ma Xiaotao and Xu Tianzhen stepped back, their breathing steady, their expressions thoughtful rather than exhausted. What they had gained was not something that demanded immediate repetition.
It demanded digestion.
Su Mei began collecting empty containers, already recalculating how much longer everyone could continue without dulling the clarity they had just achieved. Xiao Hongchen shut down several monitoring arrays, eyes flicking over the data with growing interest.
Ji Juechen remained where he was, sword resting against his shoulder, gaze distant.
Meng Hongchen stood apart from the group, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.
She had been quiet for a while now.
Lin Huang noticed.
He always did.
"You're dissatisfied," he said casually.
Meng's eyes snapped toward him. "Of course I am."
She gestured toward the field. "Fire, fire, fire. Phoenixes, suns… it's always the same elements getting all the attention."
Xu Tianzhen raised an eyebrow. "You're the one who said fire was flashy."
"That doesn't mean I enjoy being ignored," Meng shot back.
Lin Huang tilted his head slightly. "Ignored?"
Meng frowned. "Don't pretend."
Lin Huang didn't respond immediately. Instead, he walked a few steps closer, spear resting lightly against his shoulder, posture relaxed.
"Ice gets attention too," he said calmly.
Meng scoffed. "Really? When?"
"Whenever it's used properly," Lin Huang replied.
She stared at him. "And what does that mean, exactly?"
Lin Huang met her gaze without pressure.
"Versatility," he said. "Creativity."
Meng blinked. "Ice is about control. Precision."
"Yes," Lin Huang agreed. "But that's not all it can be."
She opened her mouth to respond, then stopped.
Lin Huang continued, his tone still casual, almost conversational.
"I haven't seen you create a single ice blade yet."
Silence followed.
Meng's eyes widened slightly. "I can make weapons."
Lin Huang nodded. "Then why haven't you?"
Her jaw tightened.
"I don't need to show off," she snapped.
"That wasn't a challenge," Lin Huang replied. "It was an observation."
She glared at him.
Then Lin Huang added, almost as an afterthought:
"Even in stories I've read, someone once created an ice cannon.""Freezing the air itself.""Is creativity really what you lack?"
The field went still.
Xiao Hongchen slowly turned his head to look at Meng.
Xu Tianzhen frowned, thoughtful.Ma Xiaotao blinked.Ji Juechen glanced over, curious despite himself.
Meng clenched her fists.
"…You're annoying," she muttered.
Lin Huang smiled faintly. "That wasn't denial."
The words lingered.
Training resumed—but differently.
Meng moved to the far side of the field, away from the others. She didn't immediately summon ice. She stood still, breathing slowly, eyes narrowed in concentration.
Ice had always come easily to her.
Too easily.
Sharp constructs. Clean formations. Reliable output.
But Lin Huang's words echoed in her mind.
Why haven't you?
She raised one hand.
Cold gathered.
Not explosively.
Not instinctively.
She tried to shape it.
The first attempt failed.
The ice cracked and collapsed into mist.
Meng clicked her tongue and tried again.
Lin Huang didn't interfere.
Neither did Su Mei.
Some mistakes needed to be felt.
Nearby, Ma Xiaotao and Xu Tianzhen continued refining their breathing patterns, but their attention occasionally drifted toward Meng. There was something different in the way her ice formed now—less immediate, more deliberate.
"She's thinking too much," Ma Xiaotao muttered.
Xu Tianzhen shook his head. "No. She's thinking for the first time."
Time passed quietly.
The sun climbed higher.
Then—
Something shifted.
Not outward.
Inward.
Lin Huang felt it first.
Not as pressure, not as danger—but as alignment.
He straightened slightly.
"Stop," he said calmly.
Everyone froze.
Meng hadn't noticed yet.
Her focus was absolute.
The ice around her didn't form into a weapon.
It formed into a shape.
Vague.
Humanoid.
For a brief moment, the cold gathered behind her—an outline resembling her own silhouette, sculpted from frost and mist. It wasn't solid. It wasn't stable.
But it existed.
Meng's breath caught.
She released the ice immediately, stepping back as the construct dissipated.
"…Did you see that?" she asked quietly.
"Yes," Lin Huang replied.
She turned to him slowly. "That wasn't a spell."
"No," he agreed. "That was imagination."
Meng stared at her hands.
Silence followed.
Then, almost imperceptibly, the atmosphere of the field changed.
Not violently.
Not suddenly.
A presence emerged.
Behind Ji Juechen, the air seemed to sharpen. A vast, intangible sword-shaped aura took form—silent, upright, mirroring his stance. It did not demand attention.
It commanded it.
Ji Juechen felt it and exhaled slowly. "So that's what it looks like."
Behind Xu Tianzhen, light gathered.
Not heat.
Weight.
A solar aura manifested—round, heavy, unwavering, casting no glare but bending perception itself. It didn't move.
It endured.
Xu Tianzhen closed his eyes briefly. "It's… quiet."
Behind Ma Xiaotao, flames rose—but did not spread.
A phoenix-shaped aura unfurled its wings behind her, composed of layered fire that burned inward rather than outward. It pulsed once, then steadied.
Ma Xiaotao laughed softly. "That's new."
Meng felt it then.
Cold gathered at her back again.
This time, she didn't resist it.
Behind her, a humanoid silhouette of ice took form—still incomplete, still indistinct, but unmistakably hers. It didn't attack.
It waited.
Meng swallowed. "…That's unfair."
Lin Huang finally stepped forward.
Behind him, faint at first, then clearer, an aura manifested.
A silver fox, calm and watchful.
A spear of intent aligned perfectly through its form, extending forward without aggression.
It did not dominate the field.
It observed it.
Lin Huang looked around at them.
"Remember this," he said quietly."Power doesn't announce itself.""It appears when you stop forcing it."
No one spoke.
They didn't need to.
As the auras faded, the field returned to normal.
But something had changed.
Not their strength.
Their direction.
Lin Huang glanced toward the horizon.
"One year and eight months," he said calmly.
No urgency.
No doubt.
Enough time to become ready.
Not enough time to remain the same.