The Sword That Refused To Break

The courtyard slowly drowned in silence. Day after day, the same scene repeated itself. For an entire month, the wooden sword slashed—again and again, without pause. The only interruptions came when food was needed. Even during the night, the slashing continued.

“Sigh… it’s been a full month of constant training, yet I’m still so far from creating it. Repetition alone has no meaning. I suppose I’ll have to use the remaining two months for cultivation instead.”

---

Later That Night, Inside the Inner Room

“The herbs should last me three months. If I rush, I might absorb their effects in two.”

Galahad entered a bathtub filled with medicinal water and slowly closed his eyes. Immediately, he felt the medicinal energy seeping into his body. Closing his pores, he refused to absorb the energy directly. Instead, he allowed it to slowly temper his skin, burning away impurities.

Three days and nights passed in this way. On the fourth morning, he felt a bottleneck—the rest of his body was falling behind.

“In truth, a common misunderstanding exists about the Body Tempering Realm. People believe it follows a fixed order: Bone Tempering, then Iron Skin, then Marrow Washing, and finally Body Shedding. But that’s wrong. The Body Tempering Realm is the only stage that can be cultivated in any sequence. It’s just that the other methods are inefficient, so tradition has solidified the illusion of a strict path.

“In reality, if one cultivates all three minor stages simultaneously, the Body Shedding stage can be completed in full, paving the way to the next major realm. But though it sounds simple, it’s as difficult as breaking into the Divine Body Realm itself. One would need either the physique of a divine beast, or to temper themselves with divine beast blood. Even in my past life, that would have been nearly impossible.

“But now… I have this ancient technique. With it, cultivating the Sword Physique—though only in its initial stage—I can simultaneously advance through all three minor stages of Body Tempering.”

Taking a deep breath, Galahad sat upright in the tub. Channeling the medicinal energy, he guided it to cleanse his bones and marrow while using the ancient cultivation technique to open blocked meridians. If successful, he would not only reach the initial stage but push near the middle stage—what others called Iron Skin—though with far greater strength and advantages.

The moment he circulated the technique, agony struck. His insides felt as though they were being torn apart. Blood welled beneath his skin, peeling it open. His face was bloodied.

The pain was beyond anything he had endured, even compared to his past life. Back then, elders had guided him through breakthroughs. Now he was attempting a method born purely of theory, alone.

He wanted to smash his head against the wall. The medicinal water around him turned crimson in an instant, filled with blood. Yet that same blood mixed with the medicinal energy, reentering his body and washing out impurities from the deepest tendons.

Time seemed endless. His will began to fade.

“What revenge? What answers? Maybe… I should give up…”

Darkness gnawed at his mind. His purpose, his hatred, even the grief for his fallen clan—all of it slipped away. Only a faint spark of will remained.

And then—

My sword.

Yes. Revenge mattered. Answers mattered. But more than anything else, he desired the sword. He desired to walk its ultimate path.

At that thought, the ancient technique shifted, revealing its truest form to the one it deemed worthy. The pain melted away. Galahad sank into a trance-like sleep, cultivating instinctively as his body transformed.

---

Two Months Later

Time passed quickly. Leaves withered, autumn reached its peak, and winter crept in. The air grew colder. Yet inside the inner room, nothing seemed to change.

Outside the wooden gate, the old butler stood patiently from dawn to dusk. As the sun set, he muttered,

“Is the young master still in deep cultivation? Today is the day we were supposed to depart.”

Suddenly, an aura surged from within the courtyard.

Body Tempering—first stage. Second stage. Third stage. It didn’t stop.

Fourth stage—and still climbing.

The old butler stood frozen in shock.

---

Meanwhile, in the Majestic Building

“Ohh, how interesting. What a genius of a son. I should prepare a proper gift for him. I wonder… what type of sword does he like? No, forget that. First, I’ll erase his aura before those old fogies in the clan start panicking.”

A deep aura spread briefly, then vanished, followed by hearty laughter.

---

Somewhere Else, in the Technique Hall

An ancient man, looking over one hundred and twenty, sat on a rusty chair. His cloudy eyes turned toward the direction of the aura, then shifted to the clan head’s residence.

“Ha. Like father, like son. How could a lion give birth to a sheep? Our Braymhch clan will rise above this city yet.”

Silence fell after his words.

At least five other powerful existences had sensed the aura before it was suppressed. Some reacted indifferently, others with interest. Whether that interest was good or bad, no one could say.

---

Back at the Courtyard

The aura—suppressed by the clan head—rose once again. It surged past the fourth stage and broke into the Spirit Actualization stage. Though unstable, it was undeniable.

The old butler stood in stunned silence, staring at the wooden gate, unsure whether to enter.

Then, suddenly, a voice called out from within.

“You may enter.”

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