Sanya raised her head even higher, clearly enjoying the title and the deference from so many people older than her.
But then her expression turned serious.
She stepped forward to a separate area of the training ground, walked over to a special dumbbell specially crafted by the Solar Clone, and gripped it with both hands.
This dumbbell wasn't ordinary—it was embedded with layered gravity vyuhas that could be adjusted to multiply weight at will. The disciples could see the current setting clearly displayed in glowing letters: over 2 tons.
Sanya took a deep breath, planted her feet, and—with no trace of essence flow, purely using the raw physical strength forged by years of Mortal Foundation Scripture practice—lifted it.
Her arms trembled with effort, muscles straining visibly, but she held it steady for several seconds before setting it down with a controlled thud.
Even though she hadn't yet completed Stage 1, Substage 1—her massive core size required far longer to gather sufficient essence flow, so her body hadn't been cleansed or strengthened by cultivation—the Mortal Foundation Scripture and pills had already pushed her physical power to astonishing levels.
The disciples stared at the weight display, then at the 12-year-old girl who had just lifted it with visible difficulty but without essence.
Xinxuan felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him.
He remembered how proud he had been in the early days, showing off by casually lifting a heavy rod with ease.
Now here was a 12-year-old girl lifting several times more—purely through foundation training.
He felt humbled, but the sight also ignited fierce determination in him.
The rest of the family stepped forward next, beginning their own Mortal Foundation practice.
When the disciples saw little Rudra—barely three years old—lifting dozens of kilos with focused effort, something stirred in them: a mix of shock, awe, and quiet determination.
Xinxuan looked at Rudra and found himself speechless.
But the real surprise came when Kamal and Neelam began their sets.
In the disciples' minds, these two were the parents of their Master—surely ancient, powerful cultivators who had lived for hundreds or thousands of years, just like the immortal elders in the novels.
They had imagined Master as an ancient being who had cultivated for centuries, so naturally his parents would be even older and stronger.
But then they watched Kamal and Neelam lift weights in the same range as Sanya—impressive for mortals, but nowhere near the god-like power they had expected.
Confusion rippled through the group.
A teenage male disciple named Utaru, standing some distance away, muttered under his breath.
"Why aren't the Seniors as strong as Master…?"
Sanya's enhanced senses caught the quiet question.
She understood immediately—the disciples were confused about their family.
She stepped forward, voice clear and proud.
"Because my parents started cultivation and the Mortal Foundation Scripture with me two years ago. And my brother… he's just so talented. He created his own cultivation system, he created this scripture, he created everything you see here. Even I don't fully know the extent of his power. And the surprising part? My brother only started cultivation three years ago. He's just three years older than me."
The disciples froze.
Utaru slapped his own mouth shut, regretting that his thoughts had slipped out loud.
But the last few sentences hit them harder than anything they had experienced so far.
Their minds reeled.
Their Master… was only 15 years old?
Xinxuan, who had always considered himself young and one of the most talented on Earth, suddenly felt very small.
He had thought himself ahead, but his Master was already worlds beyond.
The middle-aged and elderly disciples felt even more stunned.
They had taken a child—someone who could be their son or grandson—as their Master?
A quiet crisis of identity stirred in their minds.
Should they really call such a young person "Master"?
Just as the confusion threatened to spiral, Xinxuan stepped forward, voice steady and thoughtful.
"Even if Master is younger than me, he is stronger than me, and he is guiding and teaching me. So I have no problem calling him Master. And in the future, because of the cultivation era, lifespans will increase, customs will change. People won't necessarily call old-looking people 'old' or young-looking people 'young.' Some who appear young may be thousands of years old, yet still maintain a youthful figure. In the end, only strength will be respected. So calling Master 'Master' is no different."
He paused, then added with a small smile.
"And in the novels we've all read, it's the same. Even in real life—haven't you seen people call a child 'Master' just because of the difference in status or wealth?"
The other disciples slowly nodded, the logic cutting through their doubts.
"Yeah… Xinxuan is right."
The tension eased.
Kamal, Neelam, and Sanya looked at Xinxuan with new appreciation—they could see he was intelligent, thoughtful, and already showing signs of leadership.
He had cleared the air for everyone.
The disciples returned to their training with renewed focus, the confusion resolved, and a deeper respect for their young-yet-unimaginably-powerful Master settling into their hearts.
The path ahead felt clearer than ever.