The next morning, the sky over the minor branch sect was smeared with pale gold.
Astra stood alone on the training grounds he'd scrubbed clean the day before. The stone tiles were still slightly damp with lingering morning dew. No elders. No disciples yet.
Just him and the cold air.
He lowered his stance.
Feet steady.
Back straight.
Spirit power flowed along the Heavenly Pulse Breathing Art, gathering quietly in his legs and core.
He exhaled.
Drove his fist forward.
Thud.
The impact against the worn training post echoed nicely, wood shivering but not cracking.
Not enough.
But better.
He adjusted his angle, iterating small corrections on his own, replaying yesterday's sensations.
I don't have a teacher. So I'll make time, pain, and observation my teachers.
He punched again.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Dust shook free from the post.
[Ding! Training Task Detected: "Basic Combat Tempering."]
– Requirement: 1,000 clean strikes in one session
– Reward: Minor Combat Instinct Enhancement + 5 SP
Astra's lips twitched.
"One thousand, huh…" he murmured. "Fine."
He sank deeper into his stance and began.
At first, his movements were stiff.
Then they found a rhythm.
Strike.
Recover.
Adjust.
Breathe.
The world narrowed to the feeling of bones striking wood, of weight passing cleanly from his feet through his hips into his fists.
By the two-hundredth blow, his knuckles ached.
By the five-hundredth, his shoulders burned.
By the eight-hundredth, sweat soaked his robe again, joining the stains from previous days.
He gritted his teeth—and continued.
Some disciples eventually wandered by, glancing his way with mixture of boredom and faint curiosity.
"Is that Astra?"
"He's been at it since dawn."
"Trying to make up for years of laziness now?"
Their laughs drifted away.
Astra didn't stop.
By the nine-hundred-ninetieth punch, every muscle in his arms screamed.
The thousandth landed with a slightly different feel than the rest — smoother, more natural, as if the movement now belonged to his body instead of being forced.
Thud.
He lowered his trembling fists, chest heaving.
[Ding! Task complete: 'Basic Combat Tempering']
Reward: Minor Combat Instinct Enhancement + 5 SP]
A cool wave of clarity washed over his mind.
His perception of distance, timing, and angles sharpened slightly. He could better sense how power flowed, where a blow would land, how to turn an opponent's force aside.
System Points: 20
Another notification flickered:
[Ding! Passive Cultivation Efficiency increased slightly due to repetitive training under strain.]