The frontier forest echoed with the rhythmic clang of steel against bark as another hunting squad advanced beneath the twin moons. Towering emerald trees stretched toward the heavens, their branches woven into a dense canopy that filtered the pale blue and pink moonlight into shimmering ribbons. Strange birds with translucent feathers flitted overhead, while insects no larger than a fingernail left glowing trails through the humid air. It was a peaceful scene, which only made it more dangerous.
Leon walked near the center of the formation, quietly observing everything around him—every footprint, every broken branch, and every subtle disturbance in the Qi. General Kaelen had divided the new recruits into several hunting parties. Each group consisted of experienced border guards alongside a handful of newcomers, allowing the recruits to gain practical experience without immediately being overwhelmed. The Feather Race soldiers moved with practiced efficiency, and even Adrian seemed to have relaxed.
"...You're thinking too much." Lyra glanced sideways, her frontier armor showing signs of years of service. A single silver feather rested between her shoulder blades, peeking through her cloak whenever she moved.
"I don't think that's possible," Adrian answered with his usual expressionless face.
She laughed. "I've been trying to make you smile for two hours."
"I smiled internally."
"...That doesn't count."
"My apologies."
She sighed dramatically. "My name's Lyra, by the way."
"I know."
"...Because I introduced myself?"
"You've introduced yourself six times."
"..."
"..."
"...You really don't smile, do you?"
"I smiled internally again."
Leon glanced back for a brief moment before looking ahead once more, silently noting that she was definitely interested, though Adrian remained completely oblivious. Hopeless. A small grin tugged at Leon's lips.
Behind him, Davis leaned toward Ethan. "...Is he flirting?"
"I genuinely can't tell."
"I don't think Adrian can either."
A veteran scout suddenly raised a hand, and everyone stopped. "There."
About forty meters ahead, a horned beast roughly the size of a rhinoceros wandered between the trees. Thick, bark-like armor covered most of its body, and clusters of moss grew naturally along its back. The veterans immediately began positioning themselves.
Leon quietly watched, eager for a new test subject. Since creating Linked Energy Manipulation, he had developed several expressions of it: Self-Reliance Mode provided continuous green circulation that steadily repaired his body, while Boost Mode harmonized red and blue into purple to multiply his physical capabilities. Yin-Yang Strike served as his primary offensive technique, but offense alone wasn't enough; he needed something to address his greatest weakness. A mortal body inevitably weakened after taking damage—muscles tore, bones cracked, and fatigue accumulated until combat effectiveness plummeted. He disliked that rule, wondering if he could find a way to change it.
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Yellow internal energy slowly spread beneath his skin. Unlike the specialized currents, yellow remained fundamentally neutral and pure, entirely without attribute.
The beast charged. One of the Feather recruits panicked, stumbling over an exposed root instead of sidestepping with the formation. His spear slipped from his hands. "...Damn it!"
The horned beast lowered its head, its massive horns racing directly toward the fallen recruit. Everything happened at once as someone shouted for him to move, but the recruit froze. He wasn't going to make it.
Leon moved, igniting Boost Mode as purple surged through his body. At the same time, the yellow energy coating his skin thickened, allowing him to reach the recruit just before impact.
BOOM! The horn slammed directly into Leon's torso, launching both men several meters across the clearing. Pain exploded through his ribs, and he distinctly felt at least three of them crack as blood rose into his throat. But something else happened: the yellow energy surrounding him absorbed the violent impact and slowly deepened into orange.
A wave of power flooded every muscle in his body. It didn't make the damage disappear; his ribs were still broken and his lungs still burned from the very real injuries. However, the energy carried within that impact—the momentum, the violence, and the shock—had been captured. Instead of reducing his ability to fight, the trauma became fuel.
Leon slowly stood up as the recruit stared in disbelief. "...You're still standing?"
Leon experimentally clenched his fist, noting that the damage remained unmitigated, yet his output increased. He squeezed harder as a grin slowly appeared. "So that's how you work."
The orange energy pulsed beneath his skin. The stronger his body became, the more effective Boost Mode became, and because Boost Mode amplified his physique, Self-Reliance immediately accelerated in response. Green-hued energy raced through his bloodstream; his cracked ribs still hurt, but they were already beginning to knit together far faster than before.
The beast charged again, and Leon welcomed it. This time he didn't dodge. Another impact brought another explosion of pain, which translated into more orange energy and more strength. His body screamed and his muscles threatened to tear apart, yet his fists felt heavier than they ever had. Damage didn't weaken him anymore; it strengthened him.
He laughed softly, letting the name settle naturally. "Bitter... Strength." Bitter Strength Mode. Pain remained pain, injury remained injury, and nothing about reality changed. The only difference was that the battlefield no longer rewarded his opponent for hurting him. If they wanted him weaker, they would be disappointed. The more battered he became, the harder he punched.
The beast lunged one final time, and Leon stepped inside its reach. Purple erupted, orange flared, and his fist turned white as a pocket of black disappeared beneath the creature's skull. "Yin-Yang Strike."
The beast staggered, its legs buckled, and then the enormous body collapsed with a deafening crash.
Silence followed as the recruit Leon had saved remained seated on the ground, staring blankly. "...You..." he swallowed hard, "...you actually used yourself as a shield."
Leon shrugged. "It seemed efficient."
The young soldier opened and closed his mouth several times before lowering his head deeply. "...Thank you." Leon simply nodded.
Nearby, General Kaelen had witnessed the entire exchange without saying a word. His expression had gradually shifted from amusement to deep contemplation. That wasn't Body Tempering or Immortal Cultivation—it was Self Cultivation. His gaze lingered on Leon's retreating figure, realizing the possibility that this outsider really had killed those beasts no longer sounded absurd. It sounded troubling.
Kaelen addressed the recruits as they resumed marching, his voice carrying enough volume for everyone to hear. "There are three recognized cultivation paths: Body, Immortal, and Self. The first two have produced countless legends." He clasped his hands behind his back, letting his expression harden. "The third... is the path chosen by the desperate."
Several recruits looked toward Leon, though Kaelen deliberately didn't. "People pursue Self Cultivation because they lack talent, or because they lack options. It offers no established manuals, no inheritance, no great sects, and no guarantee of success." He shook his head. "Man is not comparable to Heaven, nor to Earth. The self is the smallest of the three, and the return on investment is pitiful. If you possess the qualifications for Heaven or Earth, do not waste your future chasing the smallest path."
Leon listened quietly without interrupting or arguing, simply storing the information away. He noted that this was the general consensus, and while they might be right or wrong, it didn't matter. Methods were tools and nothing more. If Self Cultivation ultimately proved inferior, he would abandon it; if it proved superior, he would continue. If combining all three yielded better results...He would do exactly that. The universe didn't care about opinions. Neither did Leon.