a large clearing stood a huge ten-foot black monument, and before it stood a young thirteen-year-old boy. If anyone were in the clearing with him, they would see the knuckles of his small hands bleeding as he struck the monument over and over again. Sweat poured down his forehead, and tears rolled down his face.
"Why? Why? Why?"
The young boy's name was Arzael Velarion. If one came here every morning, they would already be used to this sight. He came here every morning to train on his own before the rest of the children in the clan arrived.
One by one, the younger generation of the Velarion clan began to arrive. The pitying glances from the children were obvious to Arzael, who had always been sensitive, even as a child. The reason for those glances was simple.
Many years ago, the third son of Patriarch Philip fell in love and married Martha Stewart. Martha got pregnant, and nine months later she gave birth to triplets, bringing joy and pride to the Velarion family.
The first of the triplets was Henry, born with a Golden Dragon Body. The second,Ciro, was born with a Serenity Body. The third was Arzael.The elders of the clan said that Arzael also possessed a special body as well.
However, special physiques were extremely rare—only about one in a thousand people were born with them. Arzael's case was different. His special physique was slowly killing him, as the environment kept absorbing energy from his body.
This and because his meridians are blocked this defect also made it impossible for Arzael to practice martial arts. He could never absorb enough energy from the environment before it was sucked right out of him. The only reason Arzael was still alive was that everything he consumed—from water to food—was rich in energy.
Soon, Instructor William arrived at the clearing, and all the children gathered around him, reverence visible on their young faces.Arzael wore the same expression, but for a completely different reason. All he had ever wanted, since the day he could walk, was to become a martial artist.
Instructor William was one of the lower-ranked Earth-rank martial artists in the Velarion family, and he was in charge of training the younger generation.
"Gather around, children," Instructor William's voice rang across the clearing, even though he did not raise it. "Today I will teach you some basic martial arts forms of the family. After that, you will have a month to practice on your own before entering the family's Martial Arts Pavilion."
Basic martial arts moves were taught to beginners to improve core strength, flexibility, and balance. Their effectiveness depended heavily on the grade of the technique.
Basic martial arts were divided into low, middle, and high grades. The Joseph family's basic martial arts forms were high-grade and were typically given to those preparing to enter the Martial Arts Pavilion for the first time. Each person could only enter the pavilion once in their lifetime to obtain a martial cultivation technique.
Arzael's greatest fear was that because he had no cultivation rank, he would not be able to obtain a technique.
Thoughts raced through his mind as he performed the basic forms. Even the other students could see that Arzael was far superior to them in comprehension. A gleam appeared in Instructor William's eyes as he watched him.
"Such a shame he has a physique that's slowly killing him," he muttered to himself, shaking his head. With Arzael's outstanding perception, even without a special physique, he would have been among the most outstanding geniuses in the family.
Arzael's older siblings, Henry and Ciro, had both been taken under special tutelage, yet Arzael remained without cultivation—despite arriving to training hours earlier than anyone else.
Training soon ended, and everyone rushed home to continue practicing so they would be worthy of a superior cultivation technique when they entered the Martial Arts Pavilion.
In the Velarion family's Martial Arts Pavilion, martial techniques were sentient and could choose their wielders. If a powerful technique deemed you worthy, you would soar to the heavens. If none chose you, you were destined for failure.
Arzael hurried home to continue training. He couldn't help but hope that today was the day he finally broke into the Body Forging Realm. Honestly, what else did he have but hope?
"Today is the day. Today is the day," Arzael muttered under his breath as he walked home.
The house was empty when he arrived. He still wasn't used to not having his siblings around. Despite everything, his parents and siblings loved him. They had tried everything to cure him, but nothing worked. Eventually, they resorted to protecting him from ridicule. Fortunately, no one in the family bullied him—the Velarion family's motto was to promote healthy competition among the younger generation and foster a strong sense of belonging.
Sitting cross-legged on his bed, Arzael tried to break through the barrier separating him from the beginning of the Body Forging Realm. If one looked closely, they would see faint lines crossing and dancing, sometimes emitting a soft glow.
"Come on," Arzael strained as blood poured from his nose, ears, and even his eyes. "Come on—break for me. I need you to break."
He grunted as a mixture of sweat, tears, and blood drenched his face.
"Pfff."
Arzeal coughed up a mouthful of blood—once, then twice. His vision darkened at the edges as he felt his life force leaving his body. He had pushed himself too hard and unknowingly damaged his body beyond repair.
No one was home.
And he wasn't sure if he would survive.
Arzael was in a void,he could see nothing and hear nothing.he was terrified but he could move,he could scream for help in a distance he saw a bright light rushing towards him but he could move.pain lanced through him when the light touched his body,in the blink of an eye dozens more lights appeared all heading towards him.he had no idea how much time had passed the pain had muddled his head.