At the border of the Riverbend kingdom, there lay a vast forest. Filled with towering trees and demonic beasts. At the edge of the forest stood an ancient temple, which was once dedicated to unknown gods. Its ceiling had already collapsed, and the walls were covered in moss. Some of the idols were still intact, but nobody recognized these deities any longer. No one came to worship here for centuries. The temple and surroundings were completely deserted and silent.
On that day, a group of men rode out of the forest. All of them were riding high-quality horses. At the front was a young man with a pleasant face. He was wearing light-blue robes and had deep brown eyes. His name was Damien Brightshield, from the prominent Brightshield clan. Despite his young age, he was already the clan head. He was on his way back with his guards after a hunting expedition.
As the group approached the ruined temple, Damien suddenly raised his hand.
"Stop!"
The others stopped, right behind him. "What is it, milord?" One of them asked.
Damien didn't respond. He was staring at the temple steps. Something had caught his eye—something unexpected. He got down from his horse and approached the steps.
A baby was left on the top stair. Wrapped in simple white clothes. There was no sign of the person who left it there. There wasn't even a footprint on the dirt.
Damien frowned. He crouched in front of the infant and examined it. It was a boy, and he was sleeping peacefully. Damien saw something tucked into the cloth. He pulled it out. It was a pendant shaped like a flame.
"This symbol..." Damien looked at it, trying to remember. "I saw it somewhere. But where?"
His guards were also gathered around him. As he was pondering, one of them spoke up. "Milord, there's a village half a day's walk to the west. Should we find someone?"
"No," Damien said. "No need to contact others. I will take him back to the clan."
The guards looked surprised. Harwin, the oldest among them, stepped forward.
"Milord, are you planning to adopt it? That won't be a good idea. We don't know whose child it is. What if it's cursed? Or worse—of demonic blood?"
"Harwin, I know what I am doing." Damien said, gently lifting the baby into his arms. The baby stirred in his arms and let out a cry.
"Milord, but—"
"I said I know what I am doing." Damien raised his voice. "I don't believe in omens. But I believe in instincts. Whether this baby is a blessing or disaster, we are taking it with us."
Harwin sighed. "Being childless for years must have clouded my lord's judgement," he thought in his mind.
Damien didn't know what Harwin was thinking; he looked down at the baby and murmured softly. "I will try to find your parents. If they didn't abandon you on purpose, I will give you back. Otherwise, you will stay with me."
He then turned towards his men and barked. "What are you all waiting for? Back on your horses; it's time to leave."
In a few moments, the group continued their journey with the baby, and the forest, the ruined temple, and the surroundings returned to silence.
***
The royal capital—fifteen years later. In the Brightshield clan's private training fields, Bran, one of the clan elders, was guiding the youngsters in martial arts. Around twenty boys and girls were gathered around him as he demonstrated a martial technique.
"The essence of the Spiral Dragonhorn Thrust is not strength, but precision," Elder Bran explained. He was standing before ten human-shaped training dummies, placed in a straight line. He then took a battle stance. "First focus your inner qi onto your fingers; remember to keep them straight and close. Breathe in deeply as you pull your hand back. Take a step forward as you thrust and rotate your palm counterclockwise."
As the youngsters watched, Bran thrust his hand forward. His fingers barely touched the first training dummy, but with a hum, a spinning force erupted from his fingertips.
Vrrrrrrrrr!
The spinning force drilled through the first dummy, then the second, then the third, and just like that, all ten dummies were pierced through in a straight line. They didn't even shake, but all ten dummies had a hole on their chests, right where the human heart would be.
The youngsters were shocked. Some of them gasped aloud, while others instinctively stepped back, their eyes wide with awe and shock.
Bran saw their reactions and looked satisfied. He then ordered the servants to bring more training dummies. He had them place one dummy each in front of every student.
"You know the theory. Now practice," he commanded. "Start with one dummy. Then use two. Then three. Increase the number as you progress. Don't try to replicate what I did. It takes years of practice to reach my level."
"Understood, Elder," the youths replied together.
Bran then began to guide the youngsters individually and correct their posture. He was a good teacher. Bran knew every one of his students like the palm of his hand. Their strengths, weaknesses, limits, everything.
Except for one student—
Vrrrrr!
"Elder, can I have a second dummy?" The energetic voice of a youth in his mid-teens echoed.
Bran cringed. He was all too familiar with that voice, and it wasn't the first time that he had caused a stir during training.
"Orion, take it slow. I didn't tell you to start yet," Bran said helplessly. The black-haired boy who just spoke was standing before the training dummy he just drilled through.
Orion Brightshield laughed awkwardly. He didn't mean to show off. He was just too eager to try and succeeded at the very first attempt.
"Sorry elder... I will wait for your signal next time."
The other youths started murmuring. Some of them looked at Orion with admiration. Others stared at him with hostility. But nobody could ignore him.
The training continued. Bran moved down the line, helping each boy and girl with their stances. He nudged a student's heel back into posture and advised another one to relax his muscles.
"Alright, begin," he finally gave the signal.
Vrrrrrrr!
"Elder, I need another dummy."
Bran's eyelids twitched. Orion had drilled through the replaced dummy right away.
Bran closed his eyes for a moment and took a slow breath to calm himself. "Give him a new dummy, two this time," he ordered.
As the servants carried two more training dummies to Orion, Bran continued to correct others.
"Not like that, Rose. Your fingers aren't aligned well."
"Anna, you are rotating too early. Hold your breath until the right moment."
He then saw Gareth, one of his best students, almost making his dummy rattle.
"Well done, Gar—"
Vrrrrrrrrrrr!
"Elder I need more dummies." Orion's cheerful voice echoed.
Bran choked. Orion had just drilled through two dummies at once. Other students were still struggling with one.
"Orion! I am here to teach. You want dummies? Get them yourself!" He snapped.
"Oh... Okay, elder, I will get it myself." Orion bowed as he ran to the nearby store room with a heavy door. Bran muttered under his breath and returned to teaching others.
A minute later the heavy storage door was kicked open.
Boom!
The students who were practicing all lost their focus and stumbled. Bran raised his head and stared at Orion, who just came out dragging three training dummies.
Bran muttered under his breath as Orion excitedly arranged the dummies.
"Everyone continue, don't mind—"
"Vrrrrrrrrrr!"
Three holes were drilled through, one after the other on the three dummies.
Orion looked pleased. "Alright, with four dummies next!"
As everyone stared at him, speechless, Orion jogged into the storeroom.
"D-don't mind him... remember, the first thing about martial arts—"
BOOM!
The heavy door was kicked open again. Orion came out, excitedly dragging four dummies. Someone among the youths snorted. Bran smiled wryly.
"He is training..." Bran muttered. "And he is good. What can I say?"
Orion soon placed the dummies lined up. And—
Vrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!
"Alright, more!"
BOOM! (The door)
Vrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr! (Drilling through five dummies)
By now, others had stopped trying. They were all staring at Orion and his antics. Bran's patience was at its limit.
"C-can you please not kick the door?" he managed to ask, gritting his teeth.
"Ah! Sorry, elder, it's just that I don't have a free hand. So I have to kick."
Bran cursed in his mind. He turned to the servants. "Help him out."
The servants started to carry the dummies out for Orion. They were careful not to slam or kick the door. Bran sighed in relief. The other youths also started to continue practicing. Now more focused than before.
Gareth stood before his dummy with his eyes focused. He breathed in as he pulled his hand back and thrust!
Vrrrrr! The dummy was drilled through. A hole appeared on its chest.
"Very good, Gareth!" Bran clapped. "Look here, everyone, this is how it's done. Don't mind any disturbances. If you have unwavering focus, success is—
VRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!
The entire training ground fell silent. Bran was in a daze and mechanically turned his head. Six training dummies collapsed near Orion. Each having a fist-sized hole on the chest.
Orion looked genuinely thoughtful as he stood there with his right arm stretched.
"I don't get it," he said in confusion. "Why did Elder Bran say that this takes years of effort? It's really easy."
Pin-drop silence. Then finally—
"WHAT!" more than half the youths yelled at once. Among the twenty-plus youths, only Gareth managed to pierce a dummy. The rest of them were not even able to rattle it. And this guy just said it was easy?
"EASY?" Gareth couldn't hold back. He grabbed his training dummy and threw it hard towards Orion.
"Oi! Watch out." Orion dodged. The dummy hit the nearby wall and fell. Orion stared angrily at Gareth. "Gareth! Are you trying to kill your clanmates? May I remind you that as per clan rules you can only fight—"
"SHUT UP!" Gareth roared. Orion shut his mouth. He just noticed that all other youths were looking at him with eyes full of hostility.
"Did I do something wrong?" he said, gulping.
Bran shook his head in resignation. "Some people are born to make others feel miserable," he muttered. "Alright Orion, you have done well. Now go rest."
"Rest? But shouldn't I try with seven dummies next?"
"NO! We will do it later." Bran said firmly. "You are excused from today's training. Now go!"
Orion was confused. But he bowed and made his way out. "I was just getting into the rhythm." He sighed as he walked off and disappeared around a corner.
Tch... outsider! Gareth growled. "Not even Brightshield blood, and he shows off with our technique."
"Gareth, enough! Jealousy won't get you anywhere." Bran said sharply.
"Jealousy? Elder Bran, he was picked up from some ruins like a stray pup. What right does he have to learn our clan's martial techniques?"
"Gareth, I said enough!" Bran's voice turned cold.
But Gareth didn't give up. He was not in a mood to continue. He left his spot and walked off. "I have a headache. I will come back tomorrow."
Bran didn't stop him. This was a real headache. Right now, he had no idea how to handle it. So he let Gareth walk off.
"You guys, get back to training," he told the rest of the students. They quickly took their battle stances, and the training resumed.