Chapter 17: The Awakening Flame
The moon hung high in the sky, casting a pale glow over the training grounds. Jackim sat alone, his back pressed against the cold stone wall, his body aching from the grueling test Han had put him through. His hands were wrapped in cloth, stained with dried blood.
Pain was nothing new.
But tonight, it felt different.
It wasn't just his body that hurt—it was his pride.
Han's words echoed in his mind.
"Strength isn't just about surviving. It's about winning."
He had endured, but that wasn't enough. If he wanted to truly change his fate, he had to dominate.
His fingers curled into a fist.
He had to become stronger.
No matter what it took.
---
The next morning, Jackim found himself in front of Han once again. The older man sat cross-legged beneath the shade of a cherry blossom tree, sipping tea as if he hadn't nearly broken Jackim's ribs the night before.
"Still standing?" Han mused, setting his cup down.
Jackim nodded, his expression firm. "I need to train harder."
Han raised an eyebrow. "You think training alone will make you stronger?"
Jackim remained silent.
Han exhaled. "Jackim, martial arts isn't just about brute force. If it were, then every muscle-headed brute with a big fist would be the strongest. But that's not how it works."
Jackim frowned. "Then what does it take?"
Han's gaze darkened. "Control."
Jackim clenched his jaw. "Then teach me."
Han studied him for a long moment before smirking. "Fine. But remember this—true strength comes at a cost. Once you step forward, there is no turning back."
Jackim's heart pounded, but he didn't hesitate.
"I accept the cost."
Han chuckled. "We'll see."
---
Jackim expected another grueling physical test, but instead, Han led him into the depths of the mountain, where an ancient underground chamber lay hidden. The walls were lined with torches, their flickering flames casting eerie shadows. The air was thick with the scent of old stone and something else—something ancient.
Jackim's eyes widened as he spotted something at the center of the chamber.
A single, massive iron cauldron sat on a raised platform, filled with dark liquid. A low, almost whispering hum seemed to vibrate from it.
Han stood beside it, his expression serious. "This is the Iron Tempering Ritual."
Jackim swallowed. "What is it?"
Han gestured to the liquid. "This cauldron contains a special medicinal mixture. It seeps into your muscles, strengthening them beyond their natural limits. But the process…" Han's eyes gleamed. "Is agonizing."
Jackim didn't flinch.
"I'll do it."
Han smirked. "Then step forward."
Jackim stripped to his waist and took a deep breath before lowering himself into the cauldron.
The moment his skin touched the liquid, fire erupted through his veins.
A raw, searing pain unlike anything he had ever experienced.
His muscles screamed. His bones felt like they were melting. His vision blurred, his breath caught in his throat.
Han's voice cut through the haze. "Endure it."
Jackim gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stay submerged as every nerve in his body burned. Sweat dripped down his forehead, mixing with the liquid.
His vision darkened at the edges.
But he refused to lose consciousness.
Minutes passed.
Then an hour.
The pain never lessened—it only grew worse.
But so did he.
Somewhere in the agony, he felt something shift. His body adapted, his muscles absorbing the mixture's power. His limbs felt heavier, denser.
Stronger.
Han watched in approval.
"You're ready."
Jackim's body trembled as he climbed out of the cauldron, his breath ragged, his muscles pulsing with newfound strength. His hands clenched, and for the first time, he felt something different.
Power.
Not just the will to endure.
But the strength to fight back.
---
As Jackim dried himself, a voice echoed through the chamber.
"I didn't expect you to survive that."
Jackim turned.
Liang stood at the entrance, arms crossed, a smirk on his face. "But let's see if it actually did anything."
Han remained silent, watching.
Jackim cracked his knuckles, a faint heat lingering in his limbs.
For the first time, he welcomed the fight.
And this time—
He wouldn't just endure.
He would win.
---