"Child."
"Show me your hands."
While the minds of the monastery's leaders raced, the elder monk with flowing silver brows stepped forward, voice gentle but firm.
"Yes, Master."
Aeron Vale nodded without hesitation.
He didn't have a choice—and even if he did, he would have chosen to comply.
The pressure this old monk exuded made the energy in Aeron's dantian tremble.
Even without moving a finger, the elder's presence towered above everyone else.
He was no ordinary master.
Not even the abbot or heads of the various halls had made Aeron feel this much weight before.
The silver-browed monk took Aeron's hand and pressed two fingers to his wrist.
A warm pulse of inner energy flowed through him.
Then, the monk nodded softly. "Impeccable form. Inner energy has formed on its own."
He let out a long breath.
"So it's true. You've cultivated a superior martial art to the level of perfection… and from that, innate inner energy has emerged naturally."
The room fell silent. Even the high-ranking monks—experienced masters of the temple—were astonished.
They had speculated, of course. But hearing it confirmed still shook them.
---
In this world, the path of martial cultivation was divided into four major realms:
Post-Natal (the foundational phase),
Innate (the first awakening of true inner power),
Master (those who control internal force to its full potential),
and the rarely seen Grandmaster, who transcend mortal limits.
To even reach the Innate realm was the achievement of a lifetime for most. And there were only three recognized paths to get there:
1. Spirit Elixirs – Consuming rare alchemical compounds that unlock inner strength instantly.
2. Breakthrough by Force – Training the Post-Natal body to its peak and forcing a breakthrough under the right conditions.
3. Perfected Martial Art – Cultivating a superior technique so completely that one naturally steps into the Innate realm.
The third method was rare.
It required decades of devoted practice, usually bearing fruit only in one's fifties or sixties.
And yet, here was Aeron Vale—three years old—achieving what countless adult warriors never could.
No one present could explain it.
Perhaps only one word came close: prodigy.
The silver-browed monk looked at him solemnly.
"Young one… would you become my disciple?"
The room tensed, though none looked surprised.
They all knew the moment Aeron demonstrated his superior form, this was inevitable.
Only someone like Elder Morrow—the monastery's only living Grandmaster—had the wisdom and ability to train a student like this.
The other masters, though respected, were still in the Innate realm themselves. They did not qualify to guide someone like Aeron.
Without hesitation, Aeron stepped forward, bowed deeply, and said,
"Disciple greets the Master."
---
Becoming the disciple of Grandmaster Morrow changed everything.
By monastery law, all newcomers had to pass through twelve years of trials—three years each as:
A servant acolyte,
A courtyard attendant,
A scripture student,
And finally a novice monk.
Only after completing all twelve years could they begin true martial training.
But Aeron had bypassed all of that.
Thanks to his display and Grandmaster Morrow's patronage, he was immediately elevated beyond the novice ranks.
In a world where even comprehension of basic energy techniques could take a decade, Aeron's Heaven-Defying Comprehension allowed him to leap past barriers like smoke through a net.
He didn't just learn. He surpassed. Instantly.
---
Two months later.
Aeron sat cross-legged opposite his master.
Grandmaster Morrow had a calm but helpless smile on his face.
"From today onward… you are to reside in the Sutra Pavilion."
Aeron looked up, surprised.
The Sutra Pavilion was sacred—a vast archive of martial texts, ancient scripture, and inner cultivation manuals accumulated by the monastery across centuries.
Only the most trusted and elite disciples were granted access.
"Why?" Aeron asked quietly.
The Grandmaster gave a long sigh. "Because I can no longer teach you."
At first, Morrow had given Aeron simple guidance, corrections in posture and balance.
But that only lasted a few days.
Every lesson he gave, Aeron understood instantly.
And more than that—Aeron would build upon it, expanding into deeper insights even Morrow hadn't considered.
Within weeks, their sessions felt less like teaching, and more like philosophical debates between equals.
Some of Aeron's insights into the Path of Clarity were so profound that even Grandmaster Morrow benefited from them.
In the end, the truth was simple:
Aeron Vale had outgrown even the Grandmaster.
---
"Let the spirits of the past guide him now," Morrow said, rising.
And so Aeron was given the keys to the Sutra Pavilion.
---
The second floor of the Sutra Pavilion held the monastery's Seventy-Two Pillar Arts—the legendary techniques forged by past Masters and Grandmasters.
But beyond that, on the third floor, were texts that even the elders seldom read—those considered too advanced, too dangerous, or too abstract.
At just three years old, Aeron began immersing himself in every form he could find.
He read nonstop—day and night—memorizing, analyzing, absorbing.
"Iron Root Breathing."
"Nine Heavens Footwork."
"Swordless Cut."
"Palm of Withering Flame."
Each one was dissected, understood, and stored within.
Then, one day…
"Iron Tendon Scripture?" Aeron read aloud, pulling a dusty scroll from the shelves.
This technique was not just about strength, but rebuilding the body from within. It promised to reshape meridians, enhance the core, and unlock physical potential far beyond normal limits.
But it came with a warning:
No one had ever mastered it fully.
Too complex. Too painful. Too spiritually demanding.
Still, Aeron sat and began reading.
Three days passed.
---
> [Your understanding is incredible. Upon reading the Iron Tendon Scripture, you have realized a unique technique: Blood-Forging Body and Spirit Purification.]
A sudden warmth swept through his body.
His meridians pulsed. His muscles stretched. His very bones trembled.
But it wasn't pain.
It was evolution.
Not only was his flesh strengthening, but his mind and spirit also expanded.
"The original scripture only purified tendons and flesh," Aeron whispered, eyes glowing.
"But this… this purifies the soul itself."
Such techniques were said to be dreams for Grandmasters, let alone for someone still in the Innate stage.
Yet Aeron now held it in his hands.
"With this alone, I'll reach the Master realm years earlier than normal."
He grinned.
When Aeron had first stepped into the Innate realm, it was through sudden insight—not physical power. His inner energy was genuine, but shallow compared to true warriors.
Now, with this Blood-Forging technique, his body was being rebuilt properly.
His foundation would become solid, unshakable.
---
And so it continued.
Days turned into months. Months into years.
---
Five years passed.
Aeron Vale remained within the Sutra Pavilion, devouring knowledge like fire consumes kindling.
He was no longer the small, uncertain boy from before.
He was lean and focused. His eyes shone with wisdom far beyond his age.
His presence could silence a room.
Though only eight years old, many monks swore that his aura felt older than theirs.
They called him: The Living Scripture.
And outside the walls of the pavilion, the world had begun to take notice.
---
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