His gaze seemed to pierce through them, stripping away any illusions of invincibility they might still harbor. "In the current day and age of humans," Sensei concluded, his voice dropping to a near whisper that nevertheless filled the vast hall, "martial arts even makes less sense, as all it takes is a civilian with a gun and good aim to put you to the ground." The truth of his words was undeniable, a brutal counterpoint to every fantasy of martial prowess they had ever held.
A palpable wave of confusion and despair washed over the trainees. Hearing Sensei articulate the very limitations that had plagued their thoughts, the stark reality of martial arts against age, sickness, and modern weaponry, left them with a lost look on their faces. Their minds buzzed with unanswered questions: Why then are we forced to train? Why are we pushed to such extremes, even killed off if we don't meet these seemingly impossible expectations? The words formed on their lips, but none dared to voice them. Fear, a cold, ever-present companion, clamped down on their tongues, keeping them silent, terrified of the consequences.
John, however, was not among them. He felt no confusion, no despair. Instead, a quiet thrill ran through him. He had anticipated this. He knew something more was to come, a deeper layer to the League's ancient secrets. And just as he expected, it did.
"Indeed," the Sensei continued, his voice a low rumble that seemed to fill the space. "Some humans, or rather, some martial arts masters, could not accept this inherent physical limitation. They began to look for ways to overcome this weakness, to push beyond the boundaries of what was thought possible. It was then they found something called 'Meditation.'"
"An art that originated from India, meditation, in its simplest form, is the practice of focusing the mind. But its true power, its deeper purpose for the martial artist, lies in its connection to what we call 'Chi.'"
The Sensei paused, allowing the word to hang in the air. "From a scientific point of view," he continued, his gaze piercing, "Chi, or 'Qi' as it's often written, is not a mystical energy in the sense of magic spells. Think of it more as the bio-electrical and bio-energetic field of the body, the culmination of all the complex biochemical and neurological processes that make us alive. It's the aggregate of your nervous system's electrical impulses, your cellular energy, your metabolic processes, even the subtle magnetic fields generated by your organs."
"Every living thing generates these fields. When you're stressed, when you're unwell, these internal systems are chaotic, disorganized. Your energy is dissipated. But through disciplined meditation, you begin to achieve a profound state of physiological and psychological coherence."
Sensei's voice, though calm, held an undeniable gravity as he prepared for his demonstration. "This is what peak human is capable of achieving," he announced. With that, he coiled his ancient muscles and jumped. For an old man, he ascended with surprising power, reaching a height that would put most professional basketball players to shame, a testament to decades of rigorous training. He landed softly, effortlessly, the dust barely stirring.
"Now for a chi master," Sensei continued, his voice dropping slightly, "this is what they are capable of." He didn't seem to brace, didn't strain. All John and the other trainees heard was a slight, almost imperceptible gust of wind as the old man simply took off. One moment he was on the ground, and the next, he was at the height of the ceiling wall of the massive hall they were in, seemingly defying gravity itself. He hovered there for a brief, breathtaking instant before descending with the same effortless grace, landing as silently as he had taken flight.
The children's mouths stayed wide open, their faces a mixture of disbelief and awe. The raw, undeniable power displayed before them shattered every preconceived notion they held about human limits.
"This is what Meditation and Chi is capable of," Sensei stated, his voice resonating with ancient wisdom, "and is what you will be learning for the next week."
His gaze swept over their stunned faces, a knowing look in his eyes. "With Chi, you will no longer have any need for the green paste as you all can heal yourselves depending on how much you learn and how talented you get at it." The words were a revelation, a lifeline extended. The very solution to their most pressing, agonizing problem lay within this mystical force. The weeks of pain, the reliance on a vanished balm, it all faded in the face of this incredible promise.
The Sensei's eyes, ancient and knowing, seemed to hold the quiet wisdom of centuries. He gestured towards the mats laid out in the training hall.
"Today, we begin your journey inward. Your first meditation," he announced, his voice carrying the weight of his words. "Understand this: the calm mind is not merely beneficial; it is the absolute prerequisite for any true mastery, especially in meditation. Without a still pond, you cannot see the reflection clearly. Without a calm mind, your internal energies are scattered, like dust in the wind."
He then began to guide them, his instructions precise and unhurried. "Take a comfortable, seated position. Spine straight, but not stiff. Shoulders relaxed. Hands resting gently on your knees. Close your eyes, or soften your gaze to a point on the floor before you."
"Now," he instructed, his voice a steady drone, "bring your awareness to your breath. Feel the cool air enter your nostrils, the slight expansion of your chest and abdomen, the warmth as the air leaves your body. Do not try to control your breath, merely observe it. It is your anchor."
A profound silence descended upon the hall, broken only by the faint sounds of small directed water running through in the hall and the occasional cry of a seabird. Some of the students shifted, uncomfortable with the stillness. A few cleared their throats. The Sensei observed them with detached patience.
"You will find your mind rebels," he continued, as if reading their thoughts. "Thoughts will arise – memories, worries, plans, anxieties. This is natural. Do not fight them. Do not judge them. Simply acknowledge them, like clouds passing in the sky, and then gently, patiently, bring your awareness back to your breath. Again and again."
He paced slowly among them. "This is not a race. There is no destination other than the present moment. Some of you," he noted, "may find a measure of stillness in hours, or even days, of consistent practice. For others, it may take weeks, months, or even years to truly grasp the reins of the unruly mind. Do not be discouraged by the speed of another's progress, or your own perceived slowness."
"The calmer your mind becomes, the more acutely you will begin to perceive the subtle currents within your own body. You will notice the faint hum of your nervous system, the quiet rhythm of your heart, the warmth and tingling that indicate the flow of this bio-energy. It is like tuning a sensitive instrument. A chaotic mind is a cacophony; a calm mind allows you to hear the symphony within."