By afternoon, Mo Chen went into the forest edge alone.
This was not the deep forest where stronger spirit beasts lived. It was only the outer area, safe enough for practice, dangerous enough to force alertness.
He stood among the trees and closed his eyes.
Special Eyes.
The perception ability he had copied in his mind from Demon Slayer had become one of his most important goals. Not fior show. Not for style. For survival.
But it was also the hardest thing he had ever tried to master in past years.
He opened his eyes again and focused on everything at once.
The movement of leaves.
The angle ofi sunlight.
The small vibration in the ground.
The shifting ofi air around branches.
At first, nothing came clearly.
Just scattered impressions.
Too much.
Too little.
Too fast.
His headache began quietly at the temples.
He clenched his jaw.
No.
He was trying to force perception like a technique, but perception was not force. It was awareness sharpened to the limit.
He remembered the way Tanjiro had needed desperate circumstances to awaken sharper senses. A life-or-death edge. A body that had no choice but to improve.
Mo Chen stood still.
Then he threw a dart toward a nearby tree.The dart struck the bark with a sharp sound.
A bird burst out from the branches.
For a moment, Mo Chen's mind caught the shape of the bird's movement before the eyes could fully track it. A faint line. A direction. A pressure change in the air.
His pupils narrowed.
There it was. Not vision.
Prediction.
He turned slightly before the bird had fully crossed his view.
Too late to catch it. But enough to confirm that the path was real.
Mo Chen exhaled slowly.
"Still too weak," he said.The problem was obvious. His body was too safe. Too controlled. Too protected. Special Eyes needed pressure.
Not comfort. He looked deeper into the forest.
A thought formed in his mind.
If he wanted that ability to truly awaken, he would need a situation where he could not rely on calm.
A place where fear and focus collided.
A place where survival forced the mind to sharpen.
He had not forgotten that. He would prepare fior it.
Preparing for the First Spirit Ring
Mo Chen sat near the window in the library, one hand resting on his notebook, the other on the spine of an old book about spirit beasts. His eyes
moved slowly over the page, but his mind was elsewhere.
He closed the book and wrote a fiew short lines in his diary.
First spirit ring is near.I desired to iron spike procupine
Need to prepare body, breathing, sword control, and perception.
No rush.
No panic.
He stared at the words fior a moment.
Then he nodded to himself.That was enough fior now.
After school, he returned home and immediately began his routine. There was no wasted movement in him anymore. The days had taught him that a
weak body could not afford laziness.He started with breathing.
Slow inhale.
Brief hold.
Long exhale.The soul power inside his body responded to the rhythm more smoothly than before. He did not try to force it outward. Instead, he drew
it inward and compressed it carefully, layer by layer.
Compression.
That was one of the most important things he has practice
His soul power was not huge. It was not overwhelming. But ifi he could make it denser, tighter, more controlled, then each movement would become
more efficient.
The pressure built slowly inside him.
Not painful yet.
Just heavy.
Just resistant.
Mo Chen kept going.
His wooden sword lay beside him, but he did not pick it up yet. First, he wanted the soul power to settle into a stable state. Only after that did he begin
the sword forms.
Straight Cut.
Guarding Block.
Step and Slash.
Returning Blade.
Low Sweep.
Breath Control Stance.
The forms were still basic, but they were no longer empty motions. Every strike now carried an intention. Every footstep matched a breath. Every
return to guard prepared the next attack.
He repeated the sequence again and again until sweat gathered at his temples.
Then he stopped and looked at the metal fragment floating above his palm.
Mo Chen's gaze narrowed slightly.
Good.
The spirit ring hunt was coming, then he needed more than control. He needed survival ability.
A spirit ring hunt was not a child's practice exercise.Even a low-level spirit beast could become dangerous if he made one mistake.
He picked up the wooden sword again and stepped outside.
The air was cooler here, near the edge of the city and the hills beyond Notting Academy. The sky had begun to fade into evening color, and the breeze
carried the smell of grass and earth.
He stood in the open yard and raised the sword.
This time, he added more pressure to each motion.
Not Full force.
Just enough to feel the body resist.
The wooden blade cut forward.
Then returned.
Then cut again.
His shoulder tightened.
His wrist stung.
His legs began to burn.
But he did not stop.
He was preparing for the spirit ring hunt, not for a performance.
His fiather's old sword style was still his foundation, but now he used it with a different mindset.
A sword is not only fior attack.
It is for creating a moment.
A moment to live.
A moment to breathe.
A moment to strike first.
That was the feeling he needed.
He trained until the moon appeared.
Only then did he lower the sword and sit down on the ground.
His chest rose and fiell slowly.
His soul power was tired.
His body was tired.
But his mind was clearer than before.
He looked toward the dark line of the forest in the distance.
Soon, he thought.
Soon, I will need to step into that world for real.