Chapter Fifty-Three: Lord Kong’s Reminder

Tang Tian felt his whole body brimming with power, desperately cultivating behind the portal of light.

Perseus! Qian Hui!

I’m coming!

Bang, bang, bang—Tang Tian, wearing his black iron gauntlets, faced the wall of mist, his palms wrapped in flames, striking it over and over. Each blow sent sparks flying. According to Brother Stone, every strike was like a forging hammer, tempering the martial soul of the gauntlets anew.

Within the black iron gauntlets, the martial soul was a flickering ball of fire.

After hundreds of thousands of strikes, Tang Tian finally sensed the soul within the gauntlets growing more solid, no longer wavering as if it might extinguish at any moment.

Brother Stone’s method was indeed effective; Tang Tian was greatly encouraged. For most, hundreds of thousands of strikes yielding only minute change would seem a poor bargain, but Tang Tian was overjoyed. He had to cultivate anyway, and could upgrade his black iron gauntlets to bronze ones in the process—where else could one find such good fortune?

Tang Tian’s Shadow Fragment Palm had already been honed to perfection, and he hadn’t relaxed his training at all. Yet he still needed two hundred thousand more repetitions to master the killing move, “Stars Across the Sky.”

The perfected Shadow Fragment Palm shattered into twelve fragments with each strike, but the killing move could explode into thirty-six streams of force, covering a much wider area.

Sweat poured from Tang Tian as, with each palm strike, shadows burst into twelve fragments in the air, splitting the mist wall before him with a series of muffled explosions.

Soldier hovered silently behind Tang Tian.

Shadow Fragment Palm wasn’t ideal for destroying the mist wall—it was meant for group attacks, and its destructive power was far less than Small Collapse Fist. However, its wide coverage meant that, though progress was slow, after hundreds of thousands of strikes, a large section of mist wall had been blasted away.

The space behind the portal of light had expanded greatly, now spanning seven or eight yards in diameter, creating a sense of sudden openness and much more room to move.

Tang Tian trained with wild abandon.

Outsiders doubted his abilities, but he knew well that his talent was indeed lacking. To surpass others, he had to pay with sweat and effort far beyond what most could imagine—there was no room for luck. In just a few days, he would depart for Perseus, and he was determined to master the killing move of Shadow Fragment Palm before then.

Only two hundred thousand more to go...

Tang Tian braced his hands on his knees, drenched in sweat and gasping for breath.

Soldier hovered quietly behind him.

Suddenly, Soldier asked, “Why do you work so hard?”

“Why?” Tang Tian paused, just regaining some strength. Straightening up, sweat streaming down his face, steam rising from his soaked hair, he looked at Soldier and answered earnestly, “Because I want to grow stronger!”

“To grow stronger?” Soldier’s voice was as changeless as ever, his blank face like a mechanical doll capable of speech. “Why do you want to grow stronger?”

“There are so many things I want to do!” Tang Tian replied as if it were obvious. Then curiosity struck him. “Soldier, don’t you have things you want to do?”

Soldier was silent. Just as Tang Tian was about to resume training, Soldier suddenly spoke. “I do.”

Tang Tian stopped in his tracks, genuinely intrigued, and moved closer. “What is it you want to do? Didn’t you say your sins have already been redeemed?”

Tang Tian remembered Soldier’s words: “When clay becomes soul, its crimes are absolved.”

Soldier remained silent.

“If you have something you want to do, then do it!” Tang Tian’s eyes shone brilliantly. “You’ve endured countless years and so many clay soldiers, but only you became a soul. That means you’re destined to be extraordinary! Hahaha! Just like me—a youth touched by the gods!”

Soldier looked at Tang Tian. On his blank face, there was no hint of emotion.

“Go for it! Godlike Soldier!” Tang Tian raised his arm, energetically waving it at Soldier, wiped his sweat, and turned to resume training.

Soldier watched Tang Tian’s back in silence.

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That night, Tang Tian didn’t train.

Beside the gravestone, he sat through the night. When the morning sun leaped above the horizon, Tang Tian awoke as if from a dream.

He brushed the dirt from his trousers, gazed at the gravestone, and whispered gently, “Mother, I’m leaving now. Don’t worry about me; I’m brave and not afraid at all. Your son is already a man! Mother, I’m going to chase my dreams.”

Tang Tian’s eyes were tender, his voice soft.

After a long, silent gaze, he turned resolutely and ran down the mountain.

When Tang Tian arrived at the city gate, he saw an enormous carriage—three bronze compartments linked together. A crowd had gathered to bid farewell, and among them, Tang Tian spotted Teacher Cen and Old Wei. Teacher Cen had been recruited by Old Wei to teach foundational courses at the Shakima Academy.

“Teacher Cen!” Tang Tian waved and called out, bounding over to him.

Teacher Cen smiled warmly. “Tang Tian, well done!”

Looking at the rebellious yet innocent face before him, Teacher Cen was deeply moved. He encouraged Tang Tian earnestly, “Remember, never give up, no matter what!”

Tang Tian heard the concern in his teacher’s words, feeling warmth in his heart, and nodded vigorously. “Teacher, I won’t give up!”

Old Wei chimed in noisily, “Young Tang, don’t disgrace our great Shakima Academy!”

“Old man, worry about yourself! With the two geniuses leaving, if your points aren’t enough next year, we won’t be able to help!” Tang Tian made a playful face at Old Wei.

Old Wei laughed heartily. “Off you go, boy, roll away smoothly!”

There was little sorrow at parting; Tang Tian waved to them and hopped onto the carriage.

Looking out through the compartment’s glass, Tang Tian suddenly felt a pang of sadness. He had lived here for seventeen years, and now it was time to leave. But he quickly rallied himself—this was a new beginning, full of promise!

Soon, the others boarded one after another.

Everyone greeted each other, though spirits were low. Han Bingning still had traces of tears on her face.

The carriage was spacious, not lavish but comfortable and astonishingly roomy.

It slowly started moving, and everyone waved frantically to those outside. No matter how formidable they were, they were still teenagers. The carriage moved so quickly that soon no one could be seen, and Starwind City gradually faded from view. The youths returned to their seats, subdued by their first experience of parting.

Half an hour passed, and the mood of farewell gradually dissipated. The atmosphere inside the carriage became lively.

“What kind of carriage is this—so fast!” Amory pressed his face to the window, full of amazement.

Lord Kong chuckled. “This is Pegasus’s Star Chariot, best for long journeys. Pegasus’s vehicles are quite famous, well-balanced in every aspect. This chariot can hold two hundred, but we usually only have about thirty aboard; the rest is converted for training.”

“This speed is faster than my Eight-Step Cicada!” Tang Tian exclaimed.

“Haha, third-level light footwork can’t compare with a star chariot. But the chariot consumes star stones; a round trip like ours takes at least one fourth-grade star stone.”

Everyone was dumbfounded.

Fourth-grade star stones weren’t unheard of, but they were rare in Starwind City. Here, a round trip consumed one such stone, instantly giving the Bright Martial Society a reputation for wealth and extravagance.

Lord Kong smiled again. “Wuan Star is a border planet, not on the Heavenly Road. This is your first time traveling far; there are things I need to explain.”

Everyone listened intently.

“Your talent is good, but don’t be arrogant. Once you reach Perseus, you’ll find there are many young people more gifted than you can imagine. Life in the Martial Society is very different from Starwind City. The Society encourages competition, and internal rivalry is fierce. Whether it’s techniques or resources, to get more, you must stand out. The more outstanding you are, the more support you’ll receive. You must quickly adapt to this competitive environment—the Society’s competition is everywhere. Not just for you; even I face it. Choosing you and placing you in Perseus carries risks and pressure. You’re intelligent; I trust you understand.”

He continued, “But if you perform well enough, your rewards will far exceed your imagination. Your former schools, your families, will benefit. The Bright Martial Society’s influence is much greater than you think. So, for now, don’t worry about anything—focus only on becoming stronger, and stronger still, so your mentors see your potential sooner.”

“This is the most important thing for you—the only important thing. Don’t depend on luck. Our internal competition is far more ruthless and direct than you realize.”

Lord Kong’s gaze swept over the group.

Everyone instantly felt immense pressure and grew solemn.

“If you fall behind, no one will scold or beat you. Your only fate is to disappear silently. On dangerous missions, you’ll die without a trace, and nobody will know.” Lord Kong’s expression was grave. “I’m not joking.”

Everyone’s faces changed. His words shocked them. No one had expected that the Bright Martial Society, for which they had fought so hard to enter, could be so perilous within.

“You’ll find that, over time, the familiar faces around you will grow fewer and fewer.”

Most managed to remain composed, but Gu Xiaoyu was already trembling with fear. Among them, his strength was the weakest, and he still didn’t understand how he’d been chosen.

“On this journey, I’ll personally guide you,” Lord Kong said quietly. “Good luck to you all!”