The diary opened with a familiar sound. it had become part ofi my life.
I turned the page and wrote the date.
Age: 8 years, 4 months.
Then I paused fior a moment and looked at my own hands.
They were no longer the small, weak hands of a child who had just awakened his martial soul.
They were steady now.Strong enough to hold a sword for long periods. Strong enough to throw darts without shaking.Strong enough to train every day without collapsing afterward.
Two years had passed in that same quiet rhythm.
Morning breathing.
Academy classes.
Library reading.
Weapon practice.
Forest hunting.
Pharmacy notes.
Home.
Repeat.
No grand miracle had fallen from the sky.
No system had appeared.
No hidden master had chosen me.
Just time.
And discipline.
Sometimes I remembered those first days clearly.
The broken metal fragment trembling above my palm. Level 3 spirit power.
A weak body.A heart full ofi uncertainty.
Now that seemed far away.
The fragment still existed.
But it no longer felt broken. It felt responsive.Almost alive.I summoned it and watched it float above my palm..Clink.
A faint metallic sound.No shaking.No instability.
It hovered in place like a patient blade waiting fior my order.
Then I released it.
My soul power had reached Level 10.
Not because I was born strong.
Because Total Concentration Breathing had become a part of my body.
At first, I had learned it as a technique.Then it became a habit.Then a state.
Now it was simply my normal condition.Total Concentration Constant.
My breathing never fully stopped.Even while walking.Even while reading.Even while sleeping lightly.
The body had learned to stay ready.
The benefits were clear.
My recovery became faster.My muscles endured more.My reaction speed sharpened.
My spirit power circulation became smooth and precise.
And the most important thing—
My control became frightening good.
I stood in the open space beside the house and raised the wooden sword.
Then I moved.
Not with the old sword forms alone.Not with breathing alone.
Now they had merged.
The Gale Flow Sword had been reborn through the Fragment Flow method.
Wind gave speed.Fragments gave control.
Together, they made something different.
Something unstable to the eye.
Something clean to the body.
Something almost impossible to predict.
I wrote the style name in the diary.
Integrated Style: Fragmented Gale Sword Art
Then, below it, I listed the forms again.
First Form: Fragment Gale Slash
One Gale slash split into three micro-slashes.
Second Form: Broken Wind Step
Movement divided into bursts.
Third Form: Shattered Twin Gale
Twin Gale turned into rapid fragment strikes.
Fourth Form: Cyclone Fragments
Rotating pressure zone with multi-angle cutting.
Fifth Form: Directional Shift Cut
Mid-attack direction change.
The style was not complete.But it was already deadly enough fior my current stage.
I lowered the sword and exhaled slowly.
Then I trained my eyes.
That had been the one area where progress refused to come easily.
I had tried to shape a sharper perception, a kind of Special Eyes ability that would let me read movement and intent more clearly.
Sometimes I could catch the finest change in muscle tension before an attack.
Sometimes I could see the flow ofi breath in a person's shoulders.
But the Full state still refused to open.
It was as if the door existed, but not the key.
I did not force it.
I only recorded the failure and moved on.
That was enough.