Please give the novel a rating or a review on NovelUpdates
———-

Chapter 5: Learning the Fist and Farewell

Early the next morning, Ashura, already dressed in training gear, appeared in the middle of the drill yard and waited for his father.

A Fengtian arrived looking somewhat weary, yet when he saw the handsome youth who was almost as tall as he was, a surge of pride rose unbidden in his heart.

He thought to himself, “My blood really is strong; all four of my children are this outstanding!”

Across from him, Ashura stared at his father’s twitching lips in puzzlement.

He also noticed faint nail marks on the right side of his father’s neck and was even more confused.

What he did not know was that after A Fengtian told Qin Lan his decision last night, she almost fought him with her magic staff already in hand.

It took all his persuasion to calm his wife, yet he had his own bitter reasons; the Black Water clan was pressuring the king of Olei Kingdom to act against the A family, so sending Ashura away might be the best option.

Regaining his composure, A Fengtian said sternly, “Time is short; I will now teach you our ancestral art, Thunderclap Fist, so memorize it carefully and leave for the academy as soon as you master it, understood?”

Ashura nodded vigorously, “I will learn it with all my heart!”

With that, A Fengtian spoke no more and immediately demonstrated the 8 moves of Thunderclap Fist in the drill yard.

As he demonstrated, he explained the essentials of the martial technique and shared his personal insights.

Ashura stood to the side, watching his father’s every movement without blinking.

On King’s Continent, martial techniques and magic skills were divided into five tiers, from lowest to highest: white, green, blue, purple, and yellow-tier.

The higher the tier, the rarer it was, and the A family’s Thunderclap Fist was a blue-tier martial technique.

Even the royal house of Olei Kingdom might not possess a single purple-tier martial technique, to say nothing of yellow-tier ones.

The blue-tier Thunderclap Fist was an utterly fierce style; once mastered, every punch boomed like thunder and sent inner force piercing through an opponent’s body.

At minor mastery, two thunderclaps sounded with two bursts of penetrating force; at great mastery, three thunderclaps came with three penetrating strikes, each stronger than the last.

A Fengtian had spent nearly 30 hard years on Thunderclap Fist and had reached great mastery.

His speed rivaled rolling thunder and his power could bore through stone.

In all 8 moves, every punch produced three thunderclaps, proof that he had pushed the art to its peak.

After the final punch echoed with three claps, A Fengtian finished, calmed his surging blood, turned, and asked his third son, “This is our A family’s secret Thunderclap Fist; I always wanted to teach you but you refused… now that you have seen it once, how much do you remember?”

Ashura tilted his head, thought for a moment, and replied, “I remembered it all!”

A Fengtian paused, recalled his third son’s extraordinary memory, and said, “Very good; then show it to me once… don’t fear mistakes, just feel the power of the fist.”

Hearing this, Ashura stepped forward, took his stance, and radiated youthful vigor.

He lowered his head and reviewed in his mind every move and key point his father had just shown.

Then he snapped his head up and began to perform the form move by move.

At first A Fengtian watched with a stern face, but the longer he looked, the more shocked he became.

His third son reproduced every strike flawlessly, matching even the small details.

He still wondered whether the internal force was applied correctly… until the final punch produced a crack of thunder.

A Fengtian stood frozen, as if a bolt of lightning had struck him.

When Ashura heard that thunderclap, he was overjoyed.

He knew that the sound meant his form was correct, though only the last punch had produced it.

He turned to his father, hoping for guidance.

Yet when he looked, A Fengtian was staring at him, mouth slightly open and motionless.

Ashura called “Father” twice before snapping him out of his daze.

Suppressing his turmoil, he asked, “Not bad; have you practiced Thunderclap Fist before?”

Ashura shook his head, “I knew my two elder brothers practiced it, but I never watched them; I used to get a headache just seeing martial training.”

A Fengtian exhaled slowly and said, “Then train hard; remember the movement and the power method… when every punch thunders, you may depart.”

The youth nodded firmly, “I will master it as soon as possible!”

Hearing this, A Fengtian waved for him to continue, clasped his hands behind his back, and walked away.

Yet the whitened knuckles of his right hand betrayed his unrest.

He recalled that when he was 14, Adolf had demonstrated Thunderclap Fist to him the same way.

Adolf had performed it three full times before he memorized the moves and skills.

Only on the 8h day of practice did he finally get a thunderclap, and he still remembered Adolf’s pleased nod and praise that he was a promising pugilist.

Now that he taught his own children, the eldest, Anaga, had taken 4 days to produce thunder, and the second, Asubo, had needed 7.

But this third son, whom he used to want to thrash three times a day, produced it on his very first attempt… how could his heart stay calm?

Behind him, peals of thunder kept coming from the yard, confirming it was no fluke.

A Fengtian alternated between frowns and hidden smiles, then suddenly punched a nearby tree, making it shudder and shed leaves.

Half angry, he cursed, “Where was that brat’s effort all these years!”

In the yard, Ashura had no idea he had wounded his father’s fragile pride and immersed himself in Thunderclap Fist training, never leaving all day.

Servants brought him simple meals, which he swallowed quickly before resuming practice.

Several people watched him secretly from outside: one stood hands clasped, one hugged a wine jar, one sat quietly in a wheelchair, one wore a bun, and one had hair and beard all white.

The youth trained tirelessly until dawn’s first light hit the yard, and with it he unleashed all 8 thunderous punches, each one ringing with thunder.

Ashura collapsed to the ground and giggled foolishly, tasting the joy of success in training for the first time.

The watching figures turned and left in silence, and the lighter spring in their steps showed that a new hope had been born within the General’s Household.

At noon, Ashura quietly packed his belongings.

He knew he had little time; he had to reach Saint Gobban Academy quickly for the entrance test… his only chance.

Then a belt was handed to him from behind, and he turned to see his grandfather Adolf’s kindly smile.

Adolf spoke first, “Third boy, fasten this belt; it has storage space inside… only as big as a study, but it will help you a lot on the road!”

Ashura knew this was the belt the king had bestowed on his grandfather when he helped found Olei Kingdom.

It was an honor his grandfather had earned with his life, yet now he was asked to wear it on a journey.

Choking up, the youth cried, “Grandfather, I can’t…”

Before he finished, Adolf waved him off, “No need to say more; it’s merely a storage belt… its greatest worth is to be useful to you!

“I can’t give you better gear; may your studies go smoothly!”

The youth bit his lip and nodded hard, buckled the belt, and probed its storage space with his mind. The space was small but enough for weapons, clothes, and rations.

Adolf looked at his tall grandson with satisfaction, as if seeing his younger self.

Just then Qin Lan entered holding a wooden box, looking at her third son with mixed emotions. This youngest son was the most mischievous and infuriating, but also the best at coaxing her smiles.

“These are medicinal pills your grandfather left; the grade isn’t high but they are practical, and take this set of silver needles as well… be careful out there and don’t let yourself be hurt…”

At her nagging, he would once have covered his ears and run, but now he could not bear to cut her off.

Then Asubo pushed Anaga’s wheelchair in; Asubo had not drunk today and had regained his martial-obsessed demeanor. He took a pair of Twin Swords from behind his back and said, “Ashura, second brother has little to give, but this pair of swords is of decent quality; take them for protection.”

Ashura accepted the Twin Swords with a grin, twirled them once, and said, “Thanks, second brother; with these I’ll look even more like a master!”

Seeing his carefree attitude, Asubo felt much better.

Silent since the incident, eldest brother Anaga also showed a rare smile, took out a pouch of coins, and said, “Third, I have little to give you… take these gold coins for the road!”

Ashura looked at the pouch but did not take it, instead frowning, “Isn’t this money the dowry for sister-in-law?”

Anaga’s smile froze, then he gave a wry grin, “The Black Water clan is powerful; though she refuses them with her life, Prime Minister’s Xu family has already returned the dowry.”

After a pause he added with a laugh, “Take it; I no longer need it. If you refuse, I’ll pass it to your second brother for his wedding… don’t say I favored him when you end up empty-handed!”

Ashura gazed at the brother who always shielded him from danger, who always pleaded and took the blame for his mistakes. He suddenly smiled, “Very well… consider this money an investment in a future powerhouse; once I’m strong, I’ll repay you a hundredfold, guaranteed profit!”

Anaga could only laugh and cry, nodded deeply, and handed over the pouch.

At that moment, a tender white hand stretched out as well. Holding a few gold coins, Azhiya sobbed, “Then I’ll invest in third brother too… remember to return it a hundredfold after you become strong!”

Ashura hugged his sister first. Then he took the coins and said, “I, Ashura, keep my word to young and old alike; someday I’ll give you a whole sack of gold for your dowry!”

Azhiya broke into a smile through her tears and hid, blushing, in their mother’s arms.

The A family had always been frugal; they kept their children’s expenses lean and donated any surplus to wounded soldiers. Those few coins were her years of pocket savings, her entire fortune.

After stowing everything, Ashura turned to leave the room, and his father A Fengtian opened his mouth yet said nothing.

Ashura turned back and declared firmly, “I will return as a powerhouse to protect the family… wait for me!”

With that he swept his eyes over everyone, wanting to etch them into his memory. Then, without lingering, he ran a few steps and scaled the wall.

He knew the Black Water clan had spies outside the gate and would tail him if he left through the front.

He thought, “Black Water clan, just you wait; you forced me to climb the wall today… one day I’ll return and tear down your ancestral hall!”

The running, leaping youth disappeared at the end of the street.

———-
Support the Translation! 🌐✨

Your donations not only show appreciation but also keep the translator motivated! Every contribution helps continue bringing you more of what you love. Thank you for being a part of this journey! 💖

https://www.ko-fi.com/maxoofie