Some time later, Elder Zhu was summoned.
The massive palace doors opened slowly. A thin yellow line of sunlight spilled inside, and with it, Zhu's long shadow stretched across the wall.
He entered with that same steady, gentle gait he always had, as if no burden of any deep conspiracy weighed upon his shoulders.
Victor's face was hard. His voice carried a gravity like stone.
"Elder Zhu," Victor said, "three days from now, a highly important supply caravan will arrive in the city. I want you to take charge of its security."
Zhu lifted his brown eyes to look at Victor. His eyelids fluttered almost imperceptibly, but Adrien's parents' seasoned eyes had already caught that flicker of impatience beneath his calm exterior.
"As you command, Your Majesty," Zhu inclined his head. His voice held the same respect, the same practiced formality.
Victor pressed his fingers tightly into the armrest of his chair.
"By tomorrow, you will be sent the route and the details of the supplies. I expect you to depart with your squad before sundown."
"As you wish," Zhu bowed again and slowly walked out of the hall.
As the sound of his footsteps faded, a heavy silence settled between Victor, Selena, and Evelen.
It was not the kind of silence that brought peace—it was the hush before a storm.
Their eyes met. No one spoke, but their expressions clearly said—the hour of the hunt had arrived.
Adrien took the medicines from his parents. The warmth of the healing pills pulsed in his palms.
He climbed the stairs and shut his room door from the inside.
He drew a long breath. His eyes closed for an instant—and in the next moment, he had already stepped into the Self Dimensional Space.
In a blink, everything changed. The scent of wood from the room, the faint aroma of medicine—everything fell away behind him.
Now he stood where the very air was so thick with Qi that every breath became a form of cultivation.
This was his solitude—his secret battleground.
Adrien set his sword down, point resting against the floor, and closed his eyes. His lips moved—a whisper, as if he were making a vow to himself.
"No more haste. I need power…but first, control."
In the real world, there were still a few hours left before dawn. But here…here, he could spend four days.
Adrien settled into lotus posture and began gently guiding his Qi into every limb.
Whenever that energy turned fierce, Adrien calmed it again, like a river returning to its course.
His palms quivered, his veins stood out taut beneath his skin, but his eyes remained closed, and his face steady.
His breaths came deep and measured. No trace of impatience remained in their rhythm.
He spent a whole day simply mastering the flow of his Qi.
Anyone watching would have said he looked like an ascetic in deep meditation.
On the second day, Adrien lifted his sword again. Its touch was no longer cold—it felt familiar now.
He walked directly to the training stadium.
His steps rang firm on the concrete floor.
Placing his hand on the hilt, he said,
"System, begin."
The same echoing, lifeless voice resonated in the air—
[Training Stadium Activated]
"Beast Identified: Scorpion-Tail White Lion
Threat Level: Low Bronze—One Rank Below Host."
A pale light descended, and out of it, the monstrous form took shape.
On its gleaming white hide were old scars. Its red eyes seemed to seethe with darkness. The scorpion tail struck the ground again and again.
Adrien's heart did not pound this time.
His gaze was unwavering.
No fear, no panic on his lips.
He poured his Qi into the sword. A blue light rippled along the blade.
"Come," Adrien murmured. His voice was low but unshakable within.
"I will not run."
The lion roared. The ground shuddered.
In the next heartbeat, it lunged at Adrien with the speed of lightning.
Adrien held his breath.
He saw everything slow—the shifting muscle beneath its hide, its claws poised to tear, the blazing red of its eyes.
He took a single step to the side.
Gripping the sword tight in both hands, he waited until the beast was within range—and struck in one clean, swift motion.
The blade was so sharp it carved a deep gash across the lion's right foreleg.
A jet of blood sprayed the ground.
But Adrien didn't stop.
He pulled the sword back, driving Qi into his legs, and launched himself backward in a graceful arc.
The lion's roar cracked with rage.
Its scorpion tail slammed the ground again.
But Adrien was no longer the boy who had first come here.
His breaths were steady.
His grip unshakable.
The blue line glowing along his sword was the reflection of his newfound resolve.
The lion charged again.
Adrien leveled his blade.
"Now or never," he told himself.
He gathered every current of Qi to the tip of the blade.
As the scorpion tail whiplashed through the air like lightning, Adrien swept the sword in a decisive arc.
There was a high-pitched note—a shriek—and then silence.
The tail fell, severed, onto the stone floor.
Blood spattered across the ground.
Adrien's breathing grew fast, but there was no fear in his eyes.
Only the calm that descends in the first moment of victory.
Adrien gripped the sword in both hands until his knuckles whitened.
His breathing was steady but deep, every exhale misting faintly in the cold, charged air of the training space.
His eyes fixed on the monstrous white lion—reading every ripple under its scarred hide, every flick of the segmented scorpion-tail that arched above its spine.
The beast's chest expanded.
Its red eyes gleamed with murderous intent.
Then—
SWOOSH—!
The lion lunged forward, claws tearing shallow furrows in the ground.
Its tail cracked through the air with a sound like a splitting tree trunk:
FATAK!!
A normal fighter might have frozen—might have been gutted before he could even react.
But Adrien had already pivoted, dropping to one knee and rolling hard to the left.
The tail slammed into the earth where he'd been, stone chips spraying over his back.
Before the impact had fully settled, he pushed off the ground and launched himself forward, closing the gap.
The lion's great maw twisted toward him—but in that brief instant, its own momentum made it slow to turn.
"Now!"
He bellowed the word aloud, more to steel himself than anything.
Adrien drew on every shred of will—feeling the Qi surge from his core, racing down his arms, flooding the blade until it thrummed with a pale silver light.
He swung in a tight arc, slicing for the creature's exposed ribs.
SHING—!
The sword bit deep.
A howl of agony split the air.
The lion reared back, its massive body arching as blood poured from the wound, spraying Adrien's cheek with hot droplets.
But even wounded, it was fast.
He barely had time to see the scorpion-tail whip around again—a blur of ivory and poison.
This time, it caught his shoulder square.
CRACK.
Pain exploded in his arm, as if a spear had pierced right through bone.
He staggered back, vision swimming.
But before panic could set in, the System's voice resonated inside his skull:
[Warning: Venom partially injected. Mortal Venom Resistance: Active. Neutralizing toxin…]
A cold wave flooded the puncture as the burning subsided.
He gritted his teeth, exhaling shakily.
This pain… It's nothing compared to the fear I felt before.
He forced his blurred vision to sharpen.
The beast was limping now—its front leg dragging, its breathing ragged.
Blood pooled around its claws.
Even its tail seemed to shudder under its own weight.
Adrien felt the surge of a dangerous clarity.
One decisive blow was all that remained.
He exhaled, centering himself.
His feet planted in a balanced stance.
The blade lifted over one shoulder—heavy, but not unwieldy.
He could feel his Qi gathering again, this time more controlled, like water rising behind a dam.
"One last strike…" he whispered, voice raw.
"…and this ends."
His fingers tightened around the hilt.
He triggered his Basic Strike skill—Qi erupting along the sword's edge in a radiant arc.
As the beast forced itself into a final charge—its roar breaking, frayed—Adrien pivoted into the swing, his entire body following the motion.
WHOOSH—SLASH!
The blade carved clean through the air—and through the lion's throat.
A fountain of dark blood burst outward.
The creature stumbled, took one staggering step past him, and collapsed.
Its tail thumped lifeless against the ground.
Silence descended.
Even Adrien's ragged breathing sounded too loud.
[Beast Eliminated: Scorpion-Tail White Lion (Low Bronze Rank).
Reward: 10 Shop Coins.]
He staggered back, sinking to one knee, bracing himself with the sword point planted in the dirt.
His shoulder pulsed with dull agony, but he forced his gaze to stay on the corpse.
He had to be sure.
When nothing moved, he closed his eyes.
A ragged laugh burst from his chest, half relief, half disbelief.
"I did it," he murmured.
"…I actually did it."
The System's calm voice returned:
[Would you like to summon the next beast?]
Adrien's gaze fell to his trembling, blood-slicked hands.
His grip loosened slightly.
Then he looked at the blade, still faintly glowing from residual Qi.
"…No," he whispered hoarsely.
"Not yet. Before that, I need…to become more than a brute with a sword."
He drew in one steadying breath.
Control. Precision. Resolve.
Next time, he swore to himself, he would not rely on desperation alone.