The first month passed without any dramatic change.
That was the truth of it.
Notting Academy continued its usual rhythm. Morning classes. Afternoon reading. Evening practice. The days repeated so regularly that even small
changes became visible only when compared against the diary.
Mo Chen kept writing.
The entries were short at first.
Breathing steadier.
Sword posture less unstable.
Library notes useful.
No need to rush.
Then the pages began to grow more detailed.
Control test: fragment remains stable for three breaths.
Stability during summoning improves when body is relaxed.
Wind sensitivity slightly stronger near open space.
The fragment martial soul still looked the same.
A broken piece of metal.
Small. Rough. Incomplete.
But the way it behaved changed little by little.
At first it floated in front of his palm with an uneven tremble. After a few weeks, the tremble weakened. After a month, he could hold it in place longer.
By the second month, it no longer felt like an unstable object. It felt like a tool waiting for direction.
That change mattered more than visible strength.
Because in this world, control was a kind of power.
And Mo Chen was slowly learning both sides of it.
He trained every morning in the same sequence.
Seated breathing.
Standing stability.
Movement synchronization.
Repetition drill.
At first, his body resisted. Then it adapted. Then it began to obey.
The wooden sword his father had left behind became a familiar weight in his hands. The style was still the same foundation form.
Straight Cut.
Guarding Block.
Step and Slash.
Returning Blade.
Low Sweep.
Breath Control Stance.
Nothing flashy.
Nothing exaggerated.
Just steady, practical movement.
Over time, the forms stopped feeling separate. The breath and the blade began to match each other naturally.
The morning session was no longer just exercise.
It was structure.
By the middle of the second month, Mo Chen's habit of visiting the library had become so regular that even the librarian no longer looked surprised
when he came in with a notebook.
He began dividing the work.
One section for soul beasts.
One section for medicine and plants.
One section for spirit power behavior.
And one section for general observations.
The books were not enough by themselves, so he cross-referenced everything.
A soul beast that liked damp forest areas was often linked with moss-heavy plants.
A medicinal root that calmed the nerves also appeared in regions where spirit power circulation was naturally more stable.
Wind-type spirit beasts often reacted differently to sudden movement than earth-type beasts.
Nothing here was heroic But it was useful.
And usefulness was exactly what he wanted.
He was not trying to guess the future.
He was building a foundation that could survive it.
During this time, his family life quietly deepened as well.
His mother still worked hard, and now there was one more connection that mattered: the clothes shop in Fengyuan City.
The shop belonged to her side of the family.
It was not a large business, but it had a steady network of customers, cloth suppliers, and delivery arrangements. His mother had never spoken much
about it before, but after Mo Chen entered academy life, the relationship became more active again.
Letters began to move between Notting City and Fengyuan City.
Orders for cloth.
Questions about durable fabric.
Requests for academy-suitable clothes.
A few small business suggestions written in careful handwriting.
Mo Chen noticed the pattern without comment.
His mother's family was not nearby, but the connection existed.
And in a world like this, any stable connection had value.
On Sundays, she would often talk a little more than usual.
Not about power or cultivation.
About practical things.
About cloth prices in Fengyuan City.
About which patterns sold better.
About which family members still remembered her.
Mo Chen listened.
He did not force the conversation.
But he remembered everything.
That too was training.