"I have some knowledge of medicine and have studied acupuncture. Since I ordered you to undergo such training, I naturally have a way for you to practice without any worries. Do not ask more."
"...Oh."
Jingliu was slightly rebuffed, receiving only this answer from Qi Zhimu.
The Academy didn't have a medical department. Since her Master didn't want to say, she gave up thinking about it and went to train obediently.
Anyway—
Master wouldn't lie to her; the harsh training was for her own good.
Having endured the most painful period, she felt clearly how much her body had changed.
If she were to return to the Vanguard Challenge during the Pilgrimage now, defeating several people would not be a problem.
Jingliu thought to herself as she began a new day of bitter training.
A few days flashed by.
Dusk.
Jingliu completed her three thousandth weighted sword swing without fainting directly.
Although her arms still ached as if they were splitting, she had finally adapted to that suffocating heaviness and fatigue.
Meeting Qi Zhimu's gaze, a hint of expectation rose in Jingliu's eyes.
Would Master praise her?
"Since you've adapted, add another three thousand."
Qi Zhimu's emotionless voice instantly doused her fantasies like a bucket of cold water.
"Starting tomorrow, the morning run distance doubles, and the number of sword swings increases to six thousand."
"...Yes, Master!!"
Jingliu secretly gritted her teeth, swallowing the "Ah?" that had reached her lips.
The following days were once again hellish.
Doubling the morning run distance wasn't as simple as 1+1=2. Even though she was mentally prepared, she still couldn't complete the task during the entire day.
Carrying a 200-jin load, maintaining a minimum speed of 40 li per hour, and running 160 li in one go.
These were the doubled figures.
But in reality, it was impossible. Each time she restarted the count, the distance was shorter than the first, and it ended faster.
The total distance from multiple runs added up to more than eight hundred li... It was only at the cost of being half-dead from exhaustion for several days that she finally met the target.
Afterward, there were still six thousand weighted sword swings waiting for her.
Under the scorching afternoon sun, no matter what the training was, it squeezed her physical stamina to the limit.
Every night, she was usually dragged back from the Martial Arts Field by her Master.
As usual, when she woke up the next day, her body exuded an indescribable fullness.
Like refined iron that had been repeatedly forged by a hammer, the impurities were removed, and it became tighter and tougher.
Another ten days passed.
On the Martial Arts Field, Jingliu was no longer as disheveled as she had been half a month ago.
She still bore the 200-jin load, but her steps were steady and powerful; finishing the 160-li run only left her flushed and breathless.
The longsword in her hand whistled through the air. After six thousand swings, she was panting like an ox but standing firmly.
"Master! I... I did it. Next... are there any more arrangements?"
She didn't dare show her hope for praise anymore, fearing the daily training quota would double again.
That would really be the death of her, wouldn't it...?
In the center of the Martial Arts Field, Qi Zhimu struck out a palm from top to bottom, causing the air to emit a piercing whistle.
He withdrew his move and gathered his breath, looking at Jingliu with a flat gaze.
With a pinch of two fingers, a jade message shimmering with a faint light appeared between them.
With a tap of Qi Zhimu's fingertip, the jade message hummed and vibrated, landing on the ground.
A pale blue beam of light rose, the light and shadow twisting and intertwining to form the hideous phantom of a Borisin.
Fangs protruding, eyes blood-red.
Though it was just a phantom, the bloodthirst and chill that hit her face were so realistic that one couldn't help but feel fear.
On the neck, organs, and joint connections of this Abomination, there were several extremely thin black lines and light spots.
"This is a Military Training Jade Token, which can simulate and generate common Abominations of Abundance."
Qi Zhimu pointed at those black lines.
"Starting today, begin attack precision training. No more counting; you must use your sword to precisely cut through the black lines and pierce the light spots. A deviation of even a millimeter counts as invalid."
"When you can hit five times consecutively within three seconds, you'll have completed the preliminary stage. For the first training session, you can remove your weights."
Hearing this, Jingliu gripped her longsword tightly.
She was no stranger to this training; she had seen it during the Pilgrimage tour, and her impression of her Master's ten-swings-per-second while blindfolded was even deeper.
No running laps, no boring sword swings, and no weights—it should be easier than before, right?
Qi Zhimu saw through Jingliu's thoughts at a glance and narrowed his eyes slightly.
"The sword moves you learned during the Pilgrimage practical training were nothing more than the basics of basics. To put it bluntly, they were just superficial."
"On a real battlefield, those tricks wouldn't even shave off an Abomination's hair."
"If you think attack precision training is simpler than long-distance running and sword swinging, you are dead wrong."
"I forgot to tell you, this is only the stage where the phantom doesn't move. Later on, the projected Abomination will rapidly change its movements."
"Though it won't relocate, its twisting form will make the lethal strike zones difficult to track by eye."
"If your sword strikes have accuracy but no speed, you'll have a hard time."
As he finished speaking, the Borisin phantom roared silently.
"Give it a try once you're ready."
"Yes, Master!"
Jingliu nodded, her gaze intensifying as she stepped forward forcefully.
Her figure shot out like an arrow from a bow, raising the longsword high with both hands, using the momentum of the sprint to slash at the black line on the Abomination's neck!
The blade whistled; the momentum was decent.
Just as the blade was about to touch the edge of the black line, she used too much force and uncontrollably pressed down half an inch.
The blade passed through the light and shadow, slashing below the black line.
The jade message emitted a low hum, indicating an invalid attack.
Qi Zhimu's voice sounded from behind: "Are you chopping wood?"
Jingliu didn't believe it and turned back for another strike. This time she deliberately held back some force, trying to control her aim.
But because she withdrew her force too early, the sword's momentum was weak. Although the blade grazed the edge of the black line, it was still judged invalid because the angle was incorrect.
"Lock your wrists; don't let your power drift."
The third strike, the fourth strike... Half an hour passed, and Jingliu had already swung her sword hundreds of times.
But that thin black line seemed to be mocking her; no matter how hard she tried, the blade would always deviate from the target due to various subtle reasons.
Either excessive force caused her movement to deform, or her deliberate pursuit of accuracy made her strikes too slow—taking two or three seconds for one strike had no lethality at all.
Sweat flowed into her eyes, causing discomfort.
Jingliu became increasingly anxious, her breathing grew erratic, and her sword strikes became messy.
"Stop."
Qi Zhimu stepped forward and grabbed Jingliu's wrist, stopping her strikes that had become completely disorganized.
"If the mind is in chaos, the sword is just scrap metal."
Qi Zhimu moved behind Jingliu without letting go, placing his other hand on the side of her waist.
The sudden close contact made Jingliu stiffen, and she subconsciously wanted to shrug her shoulders, but her attention was immediately drawn by her Master's words.
"Don't move. If you don't know how to adapt your power techniques flexibly, it means in the enemy's eyes, you only have one type of move."
The voice was right by her ear, without any flirtatiousness, only severity.
"Calm your mind and feel this force."