Ch-4 The Old Woman's Strategy

The sky had already deepened to a rich shade of blue by the time Alexander reached the orphanage. The quiet of night had settled in, with only a few faint stars casting their gentle glow across the slumbering town. He stepped inside, the familiar creak of the old wooden door welcoming him like an old friend.

Within the orphanage, the warmth embraced him like a comforting blanket. The children were already tucked into bed, their soft, rhythmic breathing the only sound in the otherwise still house. The old woman sat by the hearth, as she always did, her tired eyes flickering toward Alexander as he entered.

"Eat your dinner, boy," she said in her usual soft tone, nudging a modest plate of bread and soup toward him on the long dining table.

Without a word, Alexander sat down and began eating, though his mind was far from the simple ritual of nourishment. He chewed slowly, his thoughts lost in the events of the day, a hum of excitement buzzing beneath his calm exterior. The path ahead had finally begun to reveal itself, and he could feel the energy within him rising, pushing him forward.

When his meal was done, he gave the old woman a respectful nod and slipped quietly through the dimly lit corridors. His feet carried him to a small, secluded room at the back of the orphanage—a space he had claimed as his own. Once inside, he closed the door behind him, the faint click of the latch echoing in the stillness.

The moonlight streamed through the small window, casting silver shadows across the floor. Alexander stood there, still and silent, letting the cool night air wash over him. His shoulders relaxed as he murmured to himself, "Five years... Five long years, and now it begins. The journey to greatness."

His voice was low, yet filled with a fierce determination. For years, the fire of ambition had burned quietly within him, waiting for the right moment. Now, after the old man's guidance and the discovery of the Body Tempering technique, that fire roared to life.

Taking a deep breath, Alexander tried to calm the thrill that coursed through him. The moment he had been waiting for had finally arrived. With resolve shining in his eyes, he laid the ancient book before him, its worn pages glowing softly in the moonlight.

Sitting cross-legged on the cold floor, he began to read once more, immersing himself in the teachings that would shape his future. The words were simple, yet carried the weight of profound wisdom. Body Tempering, the foundation of all cultivation, was divided into nine stages, each stage unlocking greater physical strength, endurance, and vitality.

As Alexander read on, his heart quickened. The text explained how each stage would cleanse impurities from the body, refining and strengthening it to endure the flow of Astral Energy.

"So, with each advancement, my body becomes purer," he whispered, "and with that purity comes greater power."

But it wasn't just the technique alone that determined one's success—it was one's potential. No two people would walk the same path. Progress was shaped by perseverance, dedication, and the will to push beyond one's limits. For some, their bodies would temper faster, their strength surging with minimal effort. But for others, the path would be slower, more grueling.

Alexander's eyes gleamed as he absorbed the gravity of it all. How far he could go was entirely up to him.

"Each realm I reach, I will cleanse my body... strengthen it," he said softly. "But how much I can gain, how much strength I can forge—it depends on me."

The thought both thrilled and challenged him. His fate wasn't dictated by anyone else; it was his to shape. As he continued reading, his excitement only grew, the possibilities expanding in his mind. The road would be difficult, but difficulty had never deterred him. If anything, it drove him further.

Closing the book, Alexander leaned back against the wall, his mind still swirling with the lessons he had learned. Tomorrow, he would begin the process—the first step in mastering the art of Body Tempering.

"I'll start tomorrow," he whispered to himself, a smile tugging at his lips. "The journey to greatness begins now."

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The next morning, Alexander was already up before the sun. The orphanage was still quiet, with the children fast asleep in their beds. After a quick breakfast, he returned to his small room, ready to begin. The well-worn book lay open before him, the diagrams and instructions etched into his mind.

With steady breaths, he positioned himself in the center of the room. His body bent into the first stance, muscles taut, his posture mimicking the illustrations from the book.

"Body Tempering requires resources," he muttered, his voice low, "but I don't have any... so I'll take the hard way."

Most cultivators had access to rare herbs, elixirs, and treasures to speed up the process, to draw out their potential faster than ordinary means could allow. But those luxuries were reserved for the wealthy—the fortunate few born into power and privilege. Alexander had nothing of the sort.

But what he lacked in resources, he more than made up for in determination.

Holding the stance, his body trembled slightly. He adjusted, correcting his form with meticulous precision. Sweat began to bead on his brow, yet he kept pushing through the discomfort.

"I can do this," he whispered, his voice filled with resolve. "No matter how hard it is."

He shifted into the next stance, repeating the movements over and over. Each time, his body strained, his muscles burning from the effort. And yet, even through the pain, Alexander maintained his focus, determined to master the technique.

Anyone watching would have been astonished. The stances were notoriously difficult, designed to test even the most talented cultivators. And yet, Alexander's form was near perfect. He flowed through the movements as if his body instinctively understood them, as if the technique were second nature.

Even the Heaven-favored would struggle on their first attempt, but Alexander? He not only completed the entire set—he did so with barely a handful of mistakes.

Hours passed, and still he practiced. His legs wobbled, his muscles screamed in protest, but he pushed on. His mind was clear, his goal sharp.

"I may not have resources," he whispered, his breath heavy, "but I have my will."

By the time he finally stopped, his body was trembling, drenched in sweat. But Alexander's face remained calm, a faint smile curving at the corners of his lips. He had done it. The first small step, but a step nonetheless.

With a sense of pride, he wiped the sweat from his brow, his eyes gleaming with quiet satisfaction. His journey had truly begun.

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As the afternoon rolled in, Alexander's stomach growled with an intensity he hadn't expected. The morning's practice had taken more out of him than he'd realized. When he arrived at the dining hall, he quickly sat down and began to eat.

But something strange happened. No matter how much he ate, the hunger gnawed at him, unrelenting. He finished his first plate, then reached for another. And another. By the time he was done, he had eaten enough food for two full-grown men.

"Is this normal?" he wondered, flexing his hand. He could feel the difference in his body already—his muscles were denser, his strength noticeably increased. His appetite had grown, but so had his power.

The food wasn't just nourishing him—it was fueling his transformation.

Satisfied for now, Alexander stood from the table, his thoughts already turning back to his training. The path ahead was still long, but today had proven something: even without resources, he could make progress. And if his body had already responded so quickly, then the potential for growth was far greater than he had imagined.

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Returning to his room, he resumed his practice without hesitation. His body flowed through the stances with increasing ease, the movements becoming more natural with each repetition.

"The hard way it is, then," he muttered, settling into a stance once more.

The journey was just beginning, but Alexander was ready. He would push his body to its absolute limits, with or without help. All that mattered was his determination.

And as the golden light of the afternoon streamed through the window, Alexander continued to train, driven by a hunger for strength far greater than his need for food.

By the time dinner rolled around, Alexander had spent the entire day practicing, pushing his body through the rigorous stances outlined in the Body Tempering technique. He was drenched in sweat, his muscles screaming in protest, but there was also a sense of pride swelling within him—he could feel himself growing stronger with each session.

As Alexander devoured his third plate of food, his hunger was still far from satisfied. The old woman, sitting by the hearth, observed him with a growing frown, her concern evident as she watched him practically inhale his meal.

"You should go on more walks, boy," she said, her voice gentle but carrying an odd undertone.

Alexander paused mid-bite, blinking at her suggestion. Walks? He, Alexander the Great—or soon to be—didn't need something as trivial as walks. Was she offering him sympathy? Did she think he needed to stroll around like some beggar? Sympathy? Me?

His stomach, however, had a very different opinion. It growled loudly, clearly unimpressed with his defiant thoughts. He sighed, knowing full well that his hunger had been out of control lately. Maybe a walk wouldn't be the worst idea, but not because of sympathy—it was for strategy. At least that's what he told himself.

What Alexander realized—though a bit too late—was that the old woman was not just playing the kind-hearted mentor. No, she was a cunning strategist! Her true intention was clear: send him on walks so the townsfolk could shower him with food, while she cleverly saved her pantry from being raided by his bottomless appetite. But in his prideful mind, he just thought she was being sweet and noble.

"I don't need her sympathy," he muttered under his breath, as his stomach rumbled again. And yet, by the end of the week, Alexander found himself walking around town more often, stuffing his face with free food from every corner of the village. As he returned with bags full of bread and pastries, he couldn't help but chuckle.

This routine continued for a week. Every day, Alexander trained relentlessly, his body adapting faster than he could have imagined, and with each passing day, his hunger grew. The more he pushed his body to its limits, the more food it demanded to keep up with the transformation taking place within him.

Then, on the seventh day, something changed.

As Alexander prepared to practice, he felt a sudden shift deep within. His breath caught, his heart raced, and his body tingled with unfamiliar energy. The air around him seemed to hum, as if the world itself had acknowledged the change.

A realization dawned on him.

It had begun.

To Be Continued...