By now, I had read nearly every useful book in the academy library.
And after that, I went further.
I borrowed and studied the old books from the city library too.Not because I was searching for shortcuts.
I had already learned that shortcuts usually became traps.I was searching fior understanding.
Soul beasts.
Herbs.
Spirit power circulation.
Weapon structure.
Recovery medicine.
Combat patterns.
All of it mattered.
My previous life as a pharmacy student gave me a useful base, but this world was different. The plants here behaved differently under spirit power.
Some herbs were more active near spirit energy. Others changed scent after being dried in the wrong place. A fiew combinations produced mild recovery paste. Others were useless or even harmful.So I wrote everything down.
Carefully.
I no longer thought like someone waiting for destiny.
I thought like someone building a foundation.
And because I had spent so long reading and training, the world of Douluo Dalu had become clearer in my head.
Xiao Wu's direct explosiveness.
Zhao Kai's pride.
The academy's structure.
The forest routes.
The soul master types.
The way people moved when they believed they were stronger than others.Everything had a pattern.
Everything could be studied.
Zhao Kai had changed too.
He was no longer just a boy with a little confidence and a lot of pride.
He was becoming a real friend.Not the kind who spoke too much.Not the kind who followed blindly.The kind who came back.
The kind who noticed.
The kind who could sit beside me in silence without making it awkward.
One afternoon, he found me near the library steps and dropped onto the stone bench beside me.
"You're reading city records now?" he asked.
I glanced at the book in my hand.
"Yes."
"You really do want to know everything.""I want to know enough."
He laughed softly.
Then he leaned back and looked at me for a moment.
"You're different from two years ago."
I closed the book.
"So are you."
That seemed to satisfy him.
He scratched the back of his head and looked away.
"My father says most people become more arrogant when they get stronger."
I replied, "Then your father has seen too many fools."
He barked out a laugh.
That was how it had become between us.
Not noisy.Not dramatic.
Just real
Tang San at the Forge
The blacksmith shop still smelled the same.
Heat.Iron.Smoke.Sparks.
And Tang San still worked the same way.
Quiet.Precise.Focused.
I entered and saw him at the forge, hammer in hand, shaping metal with the same careful rhythm I remembered from before He looked up when he noticed me.
"What do you need this time?" he asked.
"A better sword," I said. "And more darts."
He gave a small nod.
"Your last set is already worn?"
"Training."
That was all I needed to say.
He did not ask more.
I respected that.
He looked at my current blade, then at the dart pouch at my waist.
"You improved them yourself?"
"Yes."
"Good," he said simply. "Then you already understand why balance matters."
We worked in silence fior a while.
He gave me practical advice.
How the weight shifted in the hand.
How the edge behaved under pressure.
How a dart should fly straight without wobbling.
How repeated practice mattered more than one perfect strike.
I listened carefully
He was simply far ahead of me in this kind ofi craft.
And I was learning what I could without crossing lines that belonged to him.
When I left the shop, the new sword was still rough, but the shape was cleaner than before.
The darts were better too.
Lighter.
More consistent.More suited to control.
I could already imagine their use in the forest.
: Forest Hunting, Real Combat
The outer forest near the city border was where I spent my firee hunting days.
Not the deep forest.
Not the dangerous regions where older soul masters searched for rings.Just the border area, where low-level spirit beasts moved through the brush and herbs grew in the shade.
It was enough for me.
That morning, I carried the new sword and a doubled pouch of darts.
My breathing was already in rhythm before I entered the trees.
Inhale.Hold.Exhale.
The forest answered with silence.
Then movement.
A faint rustle in the left brush.
I stopped.
A horned rabbit spirit beast stepped out, ears twitching, body ready to flee.
It was quick.Not strong.But fast enough to test precision.
I did not rush.
A dart slipped between my fingers.
I released it.
The beast jumped sideways.
The dart struck the ground exactly where it had been.
That was the point.
Its escape line changed.
I stepped forward.
Broken Wind Step.
The movement came in a burst.
Not smooth.
Not continuous.
A flicker.
The beast's eyes widened.
It tried to turn—
Too late.
I followed with the sword.
Fragment Gale Slash.The strike split into three short cutting motions.
The beast took the first hit, then the second, then the third before it could recover its balance.
It stumbled into the leaves.
I did not waste time.
Another dart.
Then another.
One struck near its side.
The second cut off its retreat.
It was not a long fight.
It was a control fight.
That was what I had become good at.
Control first.
Finish second. now it become my food
Later in the hunt, I found a stronger beast.
Not large.
But aggressive.
Its fur was darker, and its eyes were sharper than the rabbit-type beast. It lunged the moment it saw me.This time, I answered with the new form I had been refining fior weeks.
Shattered Twin Gale.
Two sword strikes.Then two more.
Then a sudden directional shift in the middle ofi the attack.
The beast tried to read my motion.
It failed.
I changed angle before it could predict the blade.
Then I stepped again.
Directional Shift Cut.
The sword changed line mid-motion and cut across its guard.
The beast staggered.
And then I ended it with a downward strike.
Cyclone Fragments.
The spinning pressure ofi the sword forced it back while the blade completed the motion.
I stood still after the fight, breathing even.
No panic No excitement.
Just note the result, I told myself.
And that is exactly what I did.
That night, I prepared recovery medicine from the herbs I had collected. The paste was not perfect, but it worked well enough on small wounds and
bruises.
A step ahead.
Always one step.