Snow still blanketed Bai Village, though the winter sun had begun its slow return, casting long shadows over the training grounds. The cold air stung Adam's lungs with every breath, but it no longer felt foreign.
After months of training, the pain had become familiar, even comforting. He gripped his wooden sword tightly as he moved through his forms, sweat dripping down his brow despite the frost.
"Enough," Instructor Lin's voice rang out across the training grounds, sharp and commanding.
Everyone froze. Dozens of students, panting and flushed, turned toward the center. The instructor stood with arms crossed, his broad shoulders wrapped in a thick fur cloak. His gaze swept across the group with quiet intensity.
"Listen carefully," he said. "Tomorrow at dawn, all trainees are to report to the central courtyard. You will undergo your first assessment."
A ripple of murmurs passed through the group.
Zhao Yun leaned over and whispered to Adam, "A test, huh? Finally."
Instructor Lin raised a hand, silencing them all. "This is not a formality. You'll be tested on physical strength, endurance, and control. Only those who meet the threshold will qualify to begin the next stage of martial training."
Adam's brow furrowed. Threshold?
"No one will be expelled from training," Instructor Lin clarified. "But only those who pass the test will move to the next stage of their training. The rest will remain here to continue strengthening their bodies. Dismissed."
---
The next morning, the central courtyard was filled with tension. The snow had been cleared, leaving hard-packed dirt and ice-crusted stone beneath their feet. Instructor Lin and two others stood at the center with scrolls and ink.
They called trainees forward in groups of three. Each had to complete a brutal series of tasks: dragging weighted logs, sprinting laps, carrying stone blocks, and performing flawless martial movements.
When Adam's name was called—alongside Zhao Yun—he stepped forward, nerves twisting in his gut.
"Begin!" shouted one of the instructors.
Adam dropped low into a squat and began the first round. The exercises burned through his legs and arms like fire. By the time he reached the lifting trial, his arms felt like lead. But he grit his teeth and forced himself through it.
Zhao Yun groaned as he lifted a massive log. "I swear this thing weighs more every second!"
Adam, panting beside him, smirked. "Or maybe you're getting weaker."
"Shut up and lift," Zhao grunted.
The final task was a sprint around the training grounds. Adam pushed off hard, forcing his legs to keep moving despite the pain. The cold wind tore through his hair, and his breaths came in ragged gasps. But he didn't stop. When he crossed the finish line, knees nearly buckling, Zhao was right behind him.
"Everything hurts," Zhao groaned.
"You're still talking. That's a good sign," Adam wheezed.
Later, Instructor Li stood before the exhausted trainees.
"The following names have passed the threshold," he announced, and listed a dozen names.
"Liang Bo. Wen Jie ... Zhao Yun. Adam..."
Adam blinked. Relief flooded through him. He'd made it.
Instructor Li turned serious. "Everyone else will continue body refinement. For those who passed, return here tomorrow. You're ready to begin the next phase of your journey."
A ripple of excitement swept through the group. Zhao Yun fist-pumped the air, grinning from ear to ear. "We made it!" he whispered to Adam, barely containing his energy.
Even Adam, usually calm and reserved, felt a flutter of anticipation in his chest. The months of sweat, soreness, and repetition had finally paid off. They weren't just training anymore, they were advancing. The air buzzed with whispered congratulations and the shared thrill of stepping closer to becoming true martial artists.
---
The following day, the chosen students stood in a tighter circle.
Instructor Li's expression was more serious than usual.
"You've proven your bodies are strong enough to start the next phase of your training. Now, it's time to begin the true martial path."
Adam felt anticipation rise in his chest.
"In this world," Instructor Lin began, his voice steady as he paced before the group, "there is a force that cannot be seen or touched by ordinary senses. It's called dark matter, though in the ancient records, it is known as Wu Yin Qi, the hidden energy that flows through all things."
He stopped and looked each trainee in the eye.
"It's everywhere. In the air you breathe, the trees, the snow under your feet—even in your own blood. It is the spiritual marrow of the world. Beasts are born with the instinct to absorb and manipulate it. We humans, however, must learn to sense it and connect with it, one breath, one wound, one heartbeat at a time."
Adam listened intently. The mention of beasts absorbing dark matter brought him back to the abnormal beasts he faced in the forests of the Forbidden Harthian mountains. His fingers clenched at the memory.
Instructor Lin raised a small leather-bound book, the same one Adam saw Old Bai reading a few months ago.
"This manual contains basic breathing methods and techniques to begin sensing dark matter. Each of you will receive a copy."
The trainees approached one by one to accept the book. When Adam received his, he flipped through it. The characters were still a little difficult, but he could read most now. It described simple seated postures, breath pacing, and mental focus exercises. The section titled Opening the Gate of the Body was underlined.
Instructor Lin continued, "The first stage is refinement through injury. In plain words, push your body to the edge of collapse. When muscles tear, and bones strain, the body's instinct to survive kicks in. That is the only time you might feel dark matter. And when you do, guide it into your body."
A trainee in the back raised his hand. "Instructor, how will we know when we've actually sensed it?"
Lin's eyes sharpened. "You won't at first. For many, it will feel like heat. Others, a vibration under the skin. But you must break past your limits first. Until you do, it's just air."
"Is there a benchmark?" Adam asked.
Li nodded. "Once your body starts healing faster than normal, that's the sign. Bruises fading in hours. Strength returning in minutes. That's the threshold. That's when you're no longer just a trainee—but a true Tier 3 Martial Artist."
The words struck something deep in Adam. That's what Lin Yao is... Tier 3.
He gripped the manual tighter.
---
The following weeks blurred into pain and routine.
Each morning began with body training: sprints, weight carries, and combat drills. Then they shifted to the Gate-Opening Meditation, as the book instructed. Sitting with legs crossed, breathing in rhythm, holding a single thought—break, repair, strengthen.
Adam trained harder than ever. He ran until his legs collapsed, fought until his arms went numb. He forced his body into the edge of collapse every day. The snow bit into his skin, but he didn't flinch.
At night, he sat alone in his hut, eyes closed, listening to his heartbeat. Palms open. Mind still. Waiting.
But nothing came.
---
One evening, Zhao Yun threw his shirt down, groaning. "I'm done. I swear my spine is trying to escape my back."
Adam smiled faintly but didn't respond. He sat under the eaves, cross-legged.
Zhao flopped down beside him. "Another night of nothing?"
"Yeah."
"No warmth? No tingling? Not even a flutter?"
"Nothing," Adam dejectedly said.
Zhao sighed. "Instructor said some people take months."
"I know."
Zhao leaned his head back. "Still frustrating. It's like waiting to hear music you're not sure even exists."
Adam closed his eyes. "It exists."
Zhao chuckled. "You sound so sure."
"It exists," he repeated. "I just haven't reached it yet. You at least need to have this much confidence to truly reach the next stage. How could you achieve something you don't even believe exists otherwise."
---
By the end of the third week, none of the trainees had succeeded.
Some started to grow frustrated. Others doubted whether they were doing it right. The instructors only observed, rarely commenting, simply saying, "Keep pushing."
Adam never missed a single session.
He trained until his muscles tore. He meditated until his vision blurred. His hands bled from sword practice, and his legs shook from exhaustion. But every night, he returned to his hut and tried again.
And every night, the answer was silence.
But he never stopped.
Because one day… the silence would break.