Zhao Mu had been curious about his roommate Lu Yan's ability ever since they met.
An A-rank talent holder was rare even in Qingfeng Camp. Anyone with that level of aptitude would normally be surrounded by attention. Yet Lu Yan was quiet, reserved, and strangely low-profile.
Still, Zhao Mu didn't ask.
Bu Yanhuan had once told him: unless you are truly close to someone, prying into their abilities is considered impolite. In the Awakened world, one's power was deeply personal. It was both a weapon and a weakness.
Instead of digging into Lu Yan's secrets, Zhao Mu shifted his attention to something more immediate.
He glanced at the information Meng Qiuqiu had gathered earlier, then nudged the plump boy beside him.
"Did you hear anything about the upcoming training?" Zhao Mu asked casually.
Meng Qiuqiu raised an eyebrow, his expression immediately turning animated.
"You mean the New Trainee Program at Qingfeng Camp? Of course I did! I've heard it's completely different from basic school training."
"How so?" Zhao Mu asked.
Meng Qiuqiu leaned forward, lowering his voice dramatically. "It's military-style elite education. First of all, the intensity is on a completely different level. Second—and this is the key point—it focuses heavily on discipline and the application of Spiritual Power."
That made sense.
Most Awakened had only been awakened for about ten days. Their control over Spiritual Power was still crude and unstable.
Zhao Mu was a perfect example of how mastery made a difference.
During the Entrance Trial, his Combat Level had only been 2. On paper, he was weaker than many participants who were Level 4 or even Level 5.
Yet he had defeated them head-on.
Why?
Because he was far ahead in the four core applications of Spiritual Power:
Refining.
Wrapping.
Condensing.
Emitting.
While others were still struggling to maintain stable output, Zhao Mu had already refined his control to a near-instinctive level.
Meng Qiuqiu continued, "So the first thing they'll drill into us is strengthening our Spiritual Ability application."
Zhao Mu's lips curved slightly.
Pressure?
None at all.
His "Spiritual Energy Introduction" was already maxed out. The second-stage technique, "Spiritual Energy Rotation," had reached a proficiency of 142.
That level of mastery was already comparable to veteran Spirit Power users.
If the training was centered around that, he would not only keep up—he would dominate.
Zhuo Yun, who had been listening quietly, suddenly crossed his arms and spoke.
"On our way here, we passed some Elementary Camp soldiers training outside. They were carrying hundred-kilogram boulders while running laps."
Meng Qiuqiu froze.
"Wait… what?"
"They're veterans," Zhuo Yun said calmly. "Their intensity is higher. But I'd bet we'll get something similar."
Meng Qiuqiu stared at his own hands instinctively. His fingers were adorned with several Rings—spiritual equipment he relied on.
"If only we were allowed to use ember remains during training," he muttered.
Zhao Mu stretched lazily.
"By the way, is there a place for daily training here?"
Zhuo Yun pointed out the window. "That stadium-like building across from us. That's the Training Hall. Zhao Mu, are you going?"
"Yeah."
Practicing the Seven Kills Battle Method daily was mandatory for Zhao Mu.
If he wanted to raise its proficiency even once, every single component of the technique had to be drilled repeatedly. There were no shortcuts.
He couldn't afford to slack off.
"Let's go together," Zhuo Yun said, pulling a long weapon case from his cupboard.
Meng Qiuqiu hadn't intended to go at first. But when he saw Lu Yan silently stand and follow, he sighed.
"Fine. Staying alone in the dorm is boring anyway."
The Training Hall
The four of them left the dormitory and soon arrived at the Training Hall.
They swiped their electronic wristbands and stepped inside.
The hall was enormous—large enough to accommodate hundreds of trainees at once. It was divided into more than a dozen open training areas, along with several private rooms reserved for higher-level cadets.
Those private rooms were currently locked to them.
Most of the trainees present appeared to be from Primary Camp. Their Spiritual Power fluctuations were weak, their movements unrefined.
Only then did Zhao Mu realize something.
Since entering Qingfeng Camp, he had barely seen any Intermediate Camp trainees.
It seemed those cadets spent most of their time on field missions rather than within camp grounds.
Zhao Mu didn't dwell on it.
He chose an open space, stood still, and closed his eyes briefly.
"Demon Clown, activate."
"Seven Kills Battle Method training."
The familiar interface appeared in his vision. Only he could see it.
The demon clown's placard instantly switched from "Light and Agile Steps" to "Seven Kills Battle Method."
Zhao Mu exhaled slowly and entered a state of focus.
Then he began.
A Change in Aura
The moment Zhao Mu moved, the atmosphere around him shifted.
His posture straightened.
His eyes sharpened.
Gone was the mild, polite young man from moments earlier.
In his place stood someone cold, precise, lethal.
A faint killing intent seeped into the air.
His movements were simple—almost crude. The Seven Kills Battle Method did not emphasize elegance. It emphasized efficiency.
As the saying went: pretty moves are for show. Ugly moves are for killing.
Every strike Zhao Mu executed was direct and ruthless.
Palm thrusts aimed at the throat.
Elbow strikes targeting the ribs.
Sweeping kicks designed to shatter knees.
Transitions between fists, grappling, and weapon forms flowed seamlessly.
The technique was not flashy.
It was terrifying.
Zhuo Yun and Meng Qiuqiu, who had intended to start their own practice, stopped to watch instead.
Once Zhao Mu began, it felt as though he had become someone else entirely.
Lu Yan spoke softly.
"Killing intent leaking outward."
His words made the other two glance at him.
"You can't reach that level without having taken lives," Lu Yan added calmly.
Zhuo Yun's expression turned serious.
Meng Qiuqiu forced a laugh.
"Probably hunted some beasts, right? Big Brother Xiao Mu just turned eighteen like us. How many people could he have killed? Don't tell me you think he's some natural-born maniac."
Technically, Zhao Mu's first kill had been during the Qingfeng Camp Entrance Trial.
But what they didn't know was that true killing intent did not come merely from the act of killing.
It came from stepping onto the line between life and death.
And Zhao Mu had crossed that line.
Zhuo Yun's Spear
Zhuo Yun's eyes hardened with resolve.
"As expected of Zhao Mu. He can enter the zone instantly. I can't fall behind."
He opened his weapon case.
Inside lay a long spear with a cyan tassel beneath its blade.
He lifted it in one smooth motion.
With a powerful shake, spear and body became one.
Then he stepped forward and thrust.
The spear whistled through the air.
Its sweeping arcs were wide and commanding.
Its thrusts were sharp and precise.
Each strike carried weight and discipline.
The technique he used was his family's inherited combat art:
Six Harmonies Destruction Spear.
It was an intermediate-level combat technique passed down for generations.
Zhuo Yun had practiced it since childhood. The movements were etched into his muscles, fused with his bones.
When he moved, it felt natural.
Stable.
Confident.
Meng Qiuqiu whistled in admiration.
"Not bad at all."
Lu Yan's Blade
Meanwhile, Lu Yan walked silently to a nearby weapon rack.
He picked up a long saber.
The other three subconsciously shifted their attention toward him.
An A-rank talent holder.
How strong would he be?
Lu Yan returned to the training area and took a stance.
Then he swung.
Horizontal slash.
Vertical chop.
Side cut.
At first, Zhao Mu narrowed his eyes.
Was it some obscure technique he couldn't recognize?
But after several more movements, his expression shifted.
The grip was wrong.
The footing was unstable.
The angles were inconsistent.
The strikes… random.
It didn't look like advanced technique.
It looked like someone who had never trained with a blade before.
Lu Yan swung again.
And again.
Then—
His hand slipped.
The saber flew out of his grasp.
It spun through the air in a wide arc—
Straight toward Meng Qiuqiu.
"Holy—!"
Meng Qiuqiu barely had time to react.
Smack!
The saber slammed into the weapon rack less than a meter beside him.
Silence fell.
Meng Qiuqiu's face turned deathly pale.
If the blade had been sharpened, he might have lost an arm.
Lu Yan froze for half a second before rushing over and bowing deeply—nearly ninety degrees.
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, Classmate Meng! I didn't mean it!"
He looked mortified.
Meng Qiuqiu swallowed hard.
"It's… fine. I'm alive."
Lu Yan straightened awkwardly, his ears red.
"I… can't use a blade."
The confession hung in the air.
Zhuo Yun blinked.
"Wait. You're A-rank… and you can't use a weapon?"
Lu Yan hesitated.
"My talent isn't weapon-based," he said quietly. "I've never trained seriously with blades before."
Meng Qiuqiu stared at him.
"So you just picked it up… for fun?"
Lu Yan nodded stiffly.
Zhao Mu suppressed a smile.
Even prodigies had weaknesses.
An A-rank talent did not automatically grant mastery in all areas.
Still, Zhao Mu's gaze lingered thoughtfully.
If Lu Yan wasn't proficient with weapons…
Then what exactly was his A-rank ability?
That question only grew more intriguing.
The Training Hall buzzed with activity around them, but within their small circle, the mood had shifted.
One thing was clear.
Qingfeng Camp was filled with monsters.
Some were polished weapons honed by years of discipline.
Others were raw, unpredictable forces waiting to be shaped.
And training had only just begun.
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)