Morning mist drifted lazily across the plateau when Nathan stepped out of his residence, Lumen curled comfortably around his neck like a silvery scarf. The sun had barely risen, but the Supreme Void Sect was already awake.
Ash was running in circles—panicked circles.
"I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die. Weapons day means death day!"
Cyril sat sharpening a wooden training blade with complete serenity.
Lia stood by the waterfall, wiping morning dew from her sleeves while humming softly.
Nathan observed them silently.
Even now, their personalities were painfully distinct.
Ash noticed him first—and stopped running so suddenly he skidded across the stone and nearly fell.
"G-good morning, Master!"
Cyril rose and bowed.
"Master."
Lia approached with a gentle smile.
"Good morning."
Nathan nodded.
"Today, you will begin learning weapons."
Ash fainted without actually losing consciousness—his body simply stiffened like someone unplugged his soul.
Nathan ignored him.
"I will not give you advanced techniques. Not yet. But a cultivator without a weapon is incomplete. Fighting empty-handed is the last resort—not your primary choice."
Cyril's eyes glimmered with expectation.
Lia's posture straightened.
Ash looked like he wanted to hide in a tree and live there forever.
Nathan extended his hand.
A soft shimmer crossed his palm—too subtle for the disciples to perceive clearly, but Lumen's ears twitched.
The system spoke quietly in his mind:
*DING*
[Inventory Accessed.]
[Selecting Beginner Sect Weapons:
— Tempered Wooden Sword x1 (Uncommon Quality)
— Balanced Spear x1 (Uncommon Quality)
— Crescent-Edge Staff x1 (Uncommon Quality)]
Nathan withdrew a long, smooth wooden sword and handed it to Cyril.
Cyril accepted it reverently.
"It will feel heavier than it looks," Nathan said. "This sword is for building strength through form, not for killing. Do not swing carelessly."
"Yes, Master."
Next, Nathan summoned a simple but sturdy spear and passed it to Lia.
She took it with both hands, eyes widening at its balance.
"A spear teaches precision," Nathan said. "Every inch matters. Your movements are already graceful—but they need direction. This will help."
"I understand, Master."
Finally, he drew out the crescent-edge staff and dropped it into Ash's hands.
Ash stared at it like it was a venomous snake.
"Master, does this mean I'm… a staff cultivator now?"
Nathan stared at him.
"No. It means I trust you least with sharp objects."
Cyril laughed internally.
Lia tried—and failed—not to smile.
Ash looked mortally offended.
The training began.
Nathan led them to the newly formed combat arena. The stone tiles were still clean, untouched by true battle, but today they would gain purpose.
"Your stances from yesterday will be the foundation," Nathan said. "If your stance breaks, your weapon becomes useless."
Cyril raised his sword.
Lia set her spear in a defensive position.
Ash accidentally hit himself in the shin with his staff.
Nathan pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Steady yourselves."
He moved behind each disciple, adjusting posture, correcting angles, and guiding their grips. Cyril's sword pointed too rigidly forward—Nathan lowered it slightly.
"Your strength is your precision. You do not need to kill with one strike. You need to survive the first strike."
Cyril nodded.
Nathan stepped behind Lia next.
"Your spear is an extension of your balance. Your feet guide the weapon, not your arms."
She inhaled, grounding herself, and her stance improved instantly.
Finally, Nathan approached Ash.
Ash held the staff like someone holding a broom for the first time.
Nathan sighed internally.
"Your staff is not a stick you wave around. Let it flow with your movements. Do not grip it as though your life depends on it. That comes later."
Ash nodded seriously.
"Understood, Master. I shall become one with the stick."
"…Close enough," Nathan said.
He moved back to the center of the arena.
"Good. Now observe."
Nathan lifted a simple wooden sword he had prepared earlier.
One smooth step.
A shift of weight.
A single arc through the air.
The wind trembled.
The disciples felt it—an invisible pressure, subtle but undeniable, brushing past their skin like a warning from the world itself.
Nathan lowered the sword casually.
"Your turn."
Cyril stepped forward first. He took a steady breath and mimicked Nathan's form.
His sword moved.
The air shivered slightly—not nearly as much, but enough.
Nathan nodded.
"Good. Too rigid at the end. Loosen your wrist."
Cyril corrected it.
Next came Lia.
Her spear danced like a ribbon in the wind—soft, smooth, and elegant—
but lacked impact.
"Your spear is beautiful," Nathan said. "But beauty means nothing if your enemy walks through it. Redirect your weight."
Lia shifted her stance and thrust again.
This time, the spear felt like it had a purpose.
Nathan smiled faintly.
Then came Ash.
Ash stepped forward, swung the staff—
and spun himself around like a confused top before landing flat on his back.
Nathan stared down at him.
"Ash."
"…Yes, Master…?"
"Try not to kill yourself before your first real battle."
Ash sat up, dazed.
"I'll… do my best…"
Lumen chirped mockingly.
They practiced again and again.
Sweat began forming.
Breath steadied.
Movements sharpened.
For the first time, the disciples were beginning to look like future cultivators—not confused pedestrians lost in a martial arts exhibition.
Nathan observed silently, pride flickering behind his calm expression.
But just as he prepared to end the session, Lumen suddenly tensed.
The fox leaped onto Nathan's shoulder, fur bristling, growl low.
Nathan's gaze shifted instantly toward the forest.
The system responded a heartbeat later.
*DING*
[Warning:
Beast presence approaching sect boundary.]
[Distance: 600 meters]
[Type: Mortal Beast — Stage 2]
[Behavior: Searching. Irritated.]
Nathan's eyes narrowed.
The same beast?
Or another one?
Either way, it was getting bolder.
"Disciples," Nathan said, voice turning firm, "stop."
They froze.
Ash immediately dropped his staff on his foot and tried to pretend it didn't hurt.
Nathan pointed toward the trees.
"There is movement."
Cyril's grip tightened around his sword.
Lia stepped slightly behind him.
Ash hid behind both.
A faint growl echoed from the distance.
Leaves rustled.
Branches snapped.
The beast was not quiet today.
Nathan stepped forward, positioning himself between the disciples and the forest.
"Stay behind me."
"Yes, Master."
The growl grew louder.
A shadow appeared—
large, muscular, and low to the ground—
moving between the trees.
It stopped just before the concealed sect boundary.
Nathan could see it clearly now:
a wolf-like beast with dark bristling fur, glowing amber eyes, and claws that carved the earth with each step.
Ash whispered, "Master… that's not a small beast…"
"No," Nathan said calmly. "It's not."
Cyril exhaled through his nose.
Lia's breath shook softly.
The beast sniffed the air—
then slammed its paw forward against the invisible barrier.
A ripple spread across the boundary like a ripple across water.
Ash squealed.
Cyril tensed.
Lia retreated a step.
The beast roared.
Nathan met its gaze, unflinching.
"You're testing me," he murmured. "Not wise."
He raised his hand—
But instead of attacking, he simply stood there.
Unmoving.
Uncertain.
And yet—
Dominant.
The beast growled back, confused.
It scratched the barrier again—sniffed—stepped back—
Then turned and disappeared into the deepest part of the mountain.
Ash collapsed instantly.
"It came back! It actually came back! Master, we're gonna die, aren't we?!"
Nathan shook his head.
"No. It's probing. Not attacking."
Cyril frowned.
"So the mountain beasts have noticed us."
"They have," Nathan said quietly.
Lia looked at the forest with concern.
"What should we do, Master?"
Nathan turned toward the disciples, his expression steady and unreadable.
"We continue training. We grow stronger. Because danger is not coming."
He paused.
"It's already here."
The disciples stiffened.
Nathan looked once more into the forest's shadowed depths.
Something darker lingered beyond sight.
Something watching.
And waiting.
The mountain was awakening.
And so—as of today—
was the Supreme Void Sect.