Simon asked the two boys what kind of combat they wanted to learn: the head-on, fierce warrior path, or the agile, rogue path.
The result, of course, was not unexpected; they both wanted to be fierce warriors.
Simon led them to a corner of the courtyard, where iron sand basins, iron barbells, wooden stakes, cloth mallets, and wooden mallets were placed—all essential for practicing hard qigong.
"Dilo is old enough to begin more advanced training," the Troll chuckled. "Come, watch me practice first."
The iron sand basin was heated over a low fire. Once the temperature was suitable, he began to jab at it with his palm-knife. The two boys heard the swishing sound and saw Simon's hand remain unharmed, immediately underestimating the difficulty of the exercise, thinking it was nothing special.
Next, Simon demonstrated the various techniques of the Thirteen Protectors Horizontal Training one by one. The boys watched the Troll's explosive physique collide with steel, wood, and stone, roaring with excitement and letting out thrilled shouts.
"Dilo, you can start. Don't stop until I tell you to rest. Jonas, come with me."
Simon led Jonas towards the cliff on the other side of the courtyard. The Breton Boy looked back at the Whiterun boy, who stood before the iron sand basin, his back full of passion and confidence. Jonas's eyes widened, "Ah! This is the youth of a fierce warrior!"
"You are still young, after all, and your bones haven't fully set. Now I will teach you an art that transcends mortal limits."
"An art that transcends mortal limits?" Jonas exclaimed, stars in his eyes.
Dilo in the distance suddenly let out a bloodcurdling scream, "Ah—!!! It hurts, it hurts, it's hot, it's hot!!!"
Simon had his back to the training ground and had no intention of looking back at Dilo's misery, but Jonas had an unobstructed view. "Wow! Sir, quick, go look! Dilo seems to be in trouble!"
Simon turned his head. Dilo was clutching his bloody right hand, wailing.
"Don't stop! If you don't pass, you don't eat!"
The Whiterun boy wailed, continuing to torment himself. Each attempt to touch the scorching iron sand was like repeatedly dying.
Jonas shivered, terrified by Simon's ruthlessness. "I... I suddenly don't want to learn it that much anymore..."
The Troll gently cracked his knuckles, making a muffled sound like a distant drum.
The Breton Boy suddenly shuddered and stood up straight. "Learn! I must learn! If anyone tries to stop me, I'll beat them to death!"
Simon smiled. "Don't worry, if you can't learn it, I definitely won't let you have the ability to stand upright."
The boy's face was troubled and panicked. The snow of High Hrothgar was truly cold, but no matter how cold, it wasn't as cold as his heart.
...
"A powerful force resides within you, you just haven't discovered it yet," Simon circled Jonas, his low words accompanied by Dilo's pained cries in the background.
"Every time you shout a Thu'um, that power is at work. This power is a gift from the human mind and body, and from the will of the gods. A Thu'um, in the end, is merely a spell. Its principle is nothing more than using mental energy to resonate with the unseen 'earthbones,' thereby making magic submit to the will of the mage. The earthbones are the laws governing all things. You must feel their existence to gain an endless supply of mysteries and magical power!
"Mages align with the earthbones through rituals, incantations, and so on. But the Greybeards feel the earthbones with their hearts, feel the gods, and accept their gifts. And you are even more different!" Simon turned his head to stare at Jonas, his expression as solemn as if he were looking at a treasure.
"Me? How am I different?"
"Your difference is that you are Dragonborn! A natural god, the earthbones are in your soul. This is your advantage, but also your disadvantage."
Jonas seemed to ponder this.
"For ordinary people, the emergence of mental power causes obvious changes, but you have it naturally, like an instinct. You find it difficult to notice or control it, just as you cannot control your heartbeat."
"Sir must have a way, right?"
"Indeed, I have already made initial progress in researching some techniques of mental martial arts. These are what I intend to teach you."
"That's great!"
Simon suppressed an ill-intentioned smile, glancing at the cliff below, which gave Jonas an ominous premonition.
"Good that you like it. I'll explain the principle first, then we'll practice.
"For beginners of mental power, having sufficient control over it can be used to enhance one's strength and spell resistance, like this."
Simon conjured a small fireball and threw it at himself. The enchanted tattoos glowed faintly, but the spell shield did not expand. The fireball, like a loose snowball, instantly disintegrated into large clusters of sparks on Simon's body.
"More advanced applications involve training the imagination."
Jonas's curiosity suppressed the subconscious stirrings of unease, and he asked, "Imagination? What kind of imagination?"
"Mental power is inherently a force involving emotions and thoughts. The human body has limits, but the mind has none," Simon smiled. "Ordinary moves can also possess terrifying power. The principle is the same as the Thu'um, only the method of release changes from language to action. In this process, mental power is not consumed; it merely plays a role in resonance."
Seeing Jonas's confusion, Simon explained further, "That is, to integrate spells into combat, using mental power to replace incantations, spell formations, and rituals, completing a new casting mode. I'll demonstrate it for you. Watch carefully."
Simon took a deep breath and began to perform a set of the Boundless Vajra Sect's Spirit Heat Palm from his previous life. Spirit heat refers to vital energy, and the action of human consciousness naturally aligns with mental power. As he performed this palm technique, brilliant blue flames, like the vast sky and sea, ignited on the surface of his hands, with golden halos like profound Buddha light, exceedingly magnificent.
"Hah!"
Simon swung a palm towards the accumulated snow in the courtyard. A large fiery handprint flew out, a golden swastika slowly rotating in its palm. Wherever it passed, ice and snow melted, and mist steamed. The handprint flew over the cliff, drifting for dozens of yards before dissipating.
The air was filled with scorching steam, making one feel as if it were the height of summer.
Jonas was stunned, unable to speak.
Dilo, even more envious, drooled, then was scolded by Simon, who had his back to him, "Keep going, don't be lazy!"
The Breton Boy snapped out of it and immediately jumped onto the Troll, hugging him tightly. "I want to learn! I want to learn!"
"Of course, get down first, and I'll have you start the first step right away."
"Okay, okay!"
Simon again glanced at the cliff, then assumed a thoughtful expression and slowly said, "For someone in your situation, you must first feel mental power before you can learn further, and this requires absolute mental tension and being on the verge of death."
Jonas had a strong sense of foreboding.
The Troll smiled. "So, you go down first!"
As he finished speaking, the boy saw a familiar green glow, which was a paralysis spell. In an instant, he was unable to move. He then watched Simon grab his body and toss him.
He floated lightly over the cliff.
Jonas watched helplessly as everything around him rapidly receded in mid-air, but he couldn't even blink now. Soon, the cold wind brought tears to his eyes.
Through his blurred vision, death rapidly approached.
"Ah—!!!"
-------------------------------
I've already uploaded 70 chapters of this story on Patreon!
If you enjoy it, come check out the latest chapters in advance.
Here's the link:
[patreon.com/Greyhounds]
Thank you so much for your support!!
"And If you're enjoying it, drop a Power Stone for me!"