Tempered Will
Robert's twin swords rested on the blood-soaked grass, their edges slick with beast blood and battle-won spirit. His arms trembled slightly—not from fear but from the sheer toll of the fight.
The Ironhide Wolf lay silent now, its final breath already stolen. But for Robert, the work was not yet done.
"System," he gasped, his breaths slow and exhausted. "Absorb the soul of the beast."
A faint pulse of light radiated from the slain wolf's body as the system activated.
[Beast Soul Extraction in Progress…]
[Beast Type: Ironhide Wolf—Medium Rank]
[Soul Energy Acquired: 190 Units]
[Extracted: Beast Core—Grade: Medium]
[Soul Energy can be allocated toward Healing, Cultivation, or soul cultivation.]
With the soul energy swirling around him like smoke drawn by an invisible force, Robert gently closed his eyes and opened his meridians.
A warm rush flooded his core.
Power surged—pure and primal—coursing through his bones, muscles, and tendons. It healed the little cuts on his arms, repaired the damaged skin, and relieved the ache in his shoulder.
Still kneeling, Robert gritted his teeth as the energy rushed into his limbs, some of it burning with the wild nature of the beast.
[Partial Healing Complete: 70% Physical Recovery Achieved.]
But then, the forest stirred.
A distant howl. Then another.
Robert's eyes snapped open.
"The scent of blood…"
Beasts. Drawn by the battle. By the scent of death.
He had to move—now.
Sheathing his swords, he gathered the wolf's core and darted through the trees, ignoring the stabbing ache in his legs. Every leaf and shadow in the forest around him seemed to whisper a warning, signaling that danger was near. Every leaf and shadow.
Minutes passed like hours.
Finally, folded behind a curtain of ivy and a moss-covered hill, he spotted what he needed—a cave, half-hidden beneath an outcropping of stone.
Without hesitation, Robert slipped inside.
It was dark. Dry. Safe—for now.
Robert dropped to his knees again, pulling the glowing beast core from his pouch. It pulsed with a deep amber shade, still radiating the residual life force of the Ironhide Wolf.
But instead of using it immediately, he made a decision.
"System", he whispered, his voice low but steady, "store the beast core."
Satisfied, Robert set his twin swords beside him and moved to the center of the cave floor. The stone beneath him was cool and grounding.
He folded his legs, placed his hands on his knees, and gradually let his eyelids drift shut.
His breathing calmed.
His focus sharpened.
"Begin cultivation," he whispered into the dark.
[Initiating Dragon Body Tempering Manual – Level 3: Tempered Bones.]
[Soul Energy Available: 90 Units. Requirements met.]
[Commencing internal reinforcement…]
At once, his soul energy surged.
It moved through his body like controlled lightning, directing into his bones and reinforcing his skeletal frame. The pressure was immense. His jaw clenched, muscles tensed, but his posture remained unmoved.
Bone by bone, the energy worked—polishing, tempering, refining.
With each pulse of energy, there was a mix of pain and power that was hard to ignore.
The darkness of the cave wrapped around him, but in his mind, he saw a glowing crimson shape of his body—every bone igniting like forged steel beneath a divine hammer.
Minutes turned to hours.
When the light of dawn finally crept into the cave entrance, Robert's body was coated in sweat; his clothes were damp, and his breathing was deep and steady.
Then came the system's final notification:
[Dragon Body Tempering Manual – Level 3 Completed.]
[Body Tempering Level 5]
Robert slowly opened his eyes.
No more tremble in his limbs.
Only strength. Only purpose.
He exhaled deeply, letting the last of the soul energy settle within him.
Then, as his breath calmed, his thoughts drifted back to the battle with the Ironhide Wolf.
The memory of the beast's lunging fangs… The clash, the echo of his swords ringing off iron-tough hide—it all came rushing back. He had clinched the win, but it was a fiercely contested battle.
And if he wanted to stand above even stronger enemies, he couldn't grow arrogant.
He reached for the twin swords beside him. Their weight felt even more natural now, like an extension of his arms.
Without hesitation, he stood and entered a ready stance.
"Time to refine it further," he whispered.
He began practicing the technique once more, sword arcs sweeping through the cave in mirrored harmony.
His breathing was sharp, his balance steady, and the precision of his twin strikes grew sharper with every minute.
Each motion was more fluid than the last. His feet glided over stone, his body turning, twisting, and striking like a whirlwind of mirrored swords.
Time slipped by.
Two hours later, his sweat dripped onto the stone floor, chest rising and falling with heavy but satisfied breaths.
[System Notification: Mirror Fang – Partial Mastery Improved.]
[Current Progress: 25% to Full Mastery of Mirror Fang.]
But his fire hadn't dimmed.
If anything, it was burning hotter.
After a short rest, Robert stood again, exiting the cave with cautious steps.
The blood from the previous battle would surely have attracted nearby beasts, and he wasn't planning on hiding forever.
The forest was still damp with dew, its shadows long beneath the morning sun.
He walked.
An hour went by—filled with a watchful quiet and the steady sound of movement weaving through the dense forest.
Then, finally, he found it.
A white tiger stood in a clearing, its skin shining like polished bone beneath filtered sunlight.
Its body was lean and powerful, every step slow and predatory. The moment he arrived, those icy-blue eyes were already locked onto him.
Robert's hand slid to his sword.
"System", he whispered.
[Scanning Target…]
[Beast Identified: Whitebone Tiger]
[Level: Medium-1 | Classification: Wild Beast]
[Equivalent Cultivation: Body Tempering Realm – Level 6]
He narrowed his eyes.
Stronger than the wolf. One full level above.
But Robert didn't hesitate. His heart didn't waver.
"I've tempered my bones, improved my control, and my swordsmanship's better than before."
He slowly drew his twin swords, the metal whispering against the scabbards.
The Whitebone Tiger stared him down, muscles curved like steel wires beneath its pristine skin.
Its breath gasped in slow, cold mists. Robert felt the chill already—an ice aura.
And now he understood what that meant.
Every breath he took stung his lungs. His limbs felt heavier. A thin frost crept over the grass, curling at his foot.
Then the beast vanished.
Robert's instincts screamed. He twisted left, just in time to catch the blur of movement. Twin claws slashed down—he dodged with both swords.
CLANG—SCRAAAAATCH!
Sparks flew. Metal screamed.
The impact sent him sliding back across the frostbitten soil. His arms trembled from the force. Before he could fully recover, the tiger was already on him again.
"So fast!" he hissed.
Robert activated Shadow Step—vanished—and reappeared behind the beast, slashing out.
Mirror Fang—First Sequence!
His swords moved like twin crescents, aiming for the beast's sides.
But the tiger twisted midair, kicking off a tree with a sudden burst of skill. His right sword only grazed down.
The beast retaliated instantly—its massive foot slammed into his chest, sending him flying into a trunk.
THUMP!
Pain exploded across his ribs.