Path of the Dragon Warrior

rds filling the silence as Jian stood alone on the training grounds. His face was set with determination, his body tense as he focused on a single goa

he stages that followed-Martial Adept, Expert, Master, Grandmaster, Saint, and Emperor-elevating the cultivator's abilities to near-mythical levels. But at the summit lay the final, fabled realm of Martial Immortal. Those who reached it were said

stay steady in the early stages of Martial Initiate. And the longer he lingered at this bottom rung, the

of energy, like a hidden stream deep within ​the earth. A true cultivator could draw from this source, harnessing its power and shaping it into

and concentration, a familiar voice in

's wasting his time a

eading them was Chen Liu, one of the clan's most talented disciples. Liu had a reputation for hi

?" Jian asked, his voi

ind it amusing that you're still out here every morning, struggling with the basics. You must b

chuckling. "Maybe he's just pretending to be weak.

se to his face. He wanted to ignore them, to let their words wash over him, but

ing," he muttere

s glinting with cruel delight. "Are you finally going to speak up, Jian? Or

aze. "I may be weak now," he said, hi

ismissively at Jian, as if he were a piece of discarded trash. "Do you really think you'll just wake up

s mind, urging him to stay patient, to focus on his training rather than the taunt

orward, sneering. "Maybe he just n

ing him stumbling backward. He barely managed to stay on his f

tic. A true cultivator wouldn't let

anted to fight back, to show them that he wasn't as weak as they thought. But

"Surely you've learned at least one technique by now? Or ar

ists clenched, his nails digging into his palms as he fought to keep control. He knew that f

tempt. "I'd bet my next meal that you'll never amount to anything in this cla

took a step forward, fists trembling with anger. But Liu only lau

"Prove me wrong. Show us

of helplessness. Jian dropped his fists, feeling the weight of defeat settle

friends to follow. "Let's leave the weakling to his fanta

ched them go, his shoulders slumping as the full weight of their words bore dow

he sting of their words, each one slicing deeper than the last. And for the first time, he wondered if perhaps they were right

efiance flickered. It was faint, almost drowned out by the chor

sly through the clan compound, lost in his thoughts, until he found himself near the base of the range that loomed behind

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