Weakest ?

The sky was clear, a brilliant blue stretching endlessly over Qingming Village. The sun shone warmly, and the entire village buzzed with life. Traders arrived from distant regions, setting up their stalls, while villagers eagerly prepared for the upcoming Moon Festival. Laughter and chatter filled the streets, excitement thick in the air.

Yet, far from the crowd, nestled in the embrace of a towering rocky mountain, the atmosphere was entirely different. Peace and harmony reigned here. Birds chirped melodiously, the gentle rush of a waterfall adding to the serene environment—until a loud burst shattered the calm.

A figure crashed into the river below with a heavy splash.

"Ah, man... what a drag," the boy muttered, rubbing his head as he sat up on the riverbank. It was Sheo. He exhaled deeply, frustration evident on his face. "Creating a technique is no joke."

He had already attempted this over fifty times today. This wasn’t his first struggle with creating a technique, either. Before he had any energy, he had tried developing his own sword style but had failed miserably. Reflecting on that experience didn’t help much now, but at least this time, he had some direction. He knew what he wanted to form the base with.

"I’m not doing any traditional thrust or slicing techniques," he muttered. "There are already too many of those, and creating something entirely new is next to impossible."

He had learned a mid-level thrusting skill from Elder Shuna, but it didn’t suit him. He tried visualizing different scenarios, but it was like solving a puzzle with missing and jumbled pieces.

The first time he felt inspired to wield a sword was when he saw a Steel Fang Eagle hunting a Wild Tiger. That moment, burned into his memory, came rushing back as if it had happened yesterday.

Sheo's eyes snapped open. He stood up, grasping his wooden sword. Moving towards a tree, he took a stance, recalling the eagle's swift and unpredictable movements. He swung his sword—and just before it touched the tree, he disappeared. A moment later, he reappeared from a completely different angle and slashed again. He repeated this five times, each strike coming from an unpredictable direction.

Then, on his final strike, pain shot through his hands, and his sword slipped from his grasp. His entire body ached, but a grin formed on his face. He did it. The imaginary move that had existed only in his mind had now taken form in reality.

Yet, it was far from complete. His stance was unbalanced, his speed inconsistent, and his strikes lacked the power to do real damage. There were countless weak spots in his form. But this was only day one, and he had taken his first step forward.

For the next few hours, the mountain echoed with bursts of energy and the sound of bodies crashing. The sun hung lower in the sky when, finally, a real breakthrough happened. Sheo executed the technique again, and this time, his energy balanced properly. His sword struck the tree, leaving a shallow mark on its thick bark.

He let out a breath, shaking his head. "I’m not delusional enough to think I can cut this tree in a single day." Still, he felt satisfied. Progress was progress. As the sun set, he rested for thirty minutes before making his way back down the hill.

Meanwhile, back at Qing Orphanage, chaos had erupted.

Rumors spread like wildfire—the so-called trash of the orphanage had defeated its genius in a single strike. The main hall was packed with students eager to witness what came next. At the center stood Luzi, the defeated genius, unmoving since morning, waiting for the one who had bested her. Her loyal followers scoffed, claiming Sheo was too much of a coward to show up.

But everyone knew the truth. Sheo trained outside every day without fail.

Three elders stood on the higher platform, watching the commotion unfold. Crusha, the most laid-back among them, smirked. "Sheo sure knows how to annoy a girl."

Zuri chuckled. "This mess has gone on too long. There's no way words will settle things today."

Shuna simply smiled and nodded. Having watched Sheo grow up, she had expected great things from him—but not this early. She had personally trained him in swordsmanship and knew he was a genius. However, his lack of energy had always held him back. His will was strong, but without power, he couldn’t use his full potential.

"It’s like a master chef who knows all the recipes but doesn’t have the ingredients or fire to cook them," she thought to herself.

As the elders conversed, the hall suddenly fell silent.

Sheo entered the orphanage, walking absentmindedly, lost in thought. Then he stopped, feeling something was off. He scanned the room and was shocked—hundreds of students were gathered, all staring at him like they were about to witness something legendary. He quickly checked to see if he had accidentally interrupted a duel, but no, all eyes were on him.

At the center of it all, Luzi stood with murderous intent in her eyes. She was glaring at him, seething with rage.

"Spar with me." Her voice was sharp, impatient.

Before Sheo could even reply, she launched an attack.

His reflexes, honed from years of training, kicked in instantly. He dodged with ease. Luzi wasted no time, drawing her sword that gleamed under the hall’s lights. Wind swirled around her as she moved, preparing another strike.

Sheo sighed. There was no avoiding this.

He drew his wooden sword, meeting her attack head-on. Their blades clashed, locked in a deadlock. The crowd gasped when they realized—Sheo was fighting her with a dull wooden sword.

Luzi's frustration boiled over. "You bas—"

She unleashed a flurry of sword techniques, incorporating spells into her attacks, but Sheo dodged each one effortlessly. The audience watched in stunned silence, jaws hanging open.

Yet, only the elders saw what was truly happening. Sheo wasn’t just dodging—he was leading her into a trap.

By the time Luzi reached the exact center of the room, she was exhausted. She had burned too much energy too fast, driven entirely by pride and anger. A terrible way to fight.

Sheo sighed. "Here goes nothing."

He dashed forward, his wooden sword aimed at her head. Luzi instinctively raised her blade to block. But just as their swords were about to clash—

He vanished.

Her heart skipped a beat. Before she could react, she felt a sharp pain in her right arm—her protective wind spell shattered by a wooden sword. Her mind barely had time to process it before another strike landed on her left leg, knocking her off balance. Her sword clattered to the ground.

Sheo’s blade stopped just behind her.

Luzi trembled with a mixture of shame, anger, and disbelief. She refused to accept defeat. Gritting her teeth, she tried to stand. "I… I haven’t lost yet!"

"That’s enough."

A tall woman entered the hall, her authoritative voice cutting through the tension.

It was Bulma, the First Elder.

"You lost. If this had been a real fight, you would’ve lost your arm and leg. You were careless and fought like a child. I expected better."

Luzi bowed her head in shame. "I’m sorry, teacher."

Bulma turned to Sheo. "Do you understand what you were doing wrong?"

Sheo nodded. "I know my weakness. Against a true expert, I wouldn’t last a single move."

Bulma nodded. "Creating a technique is not easy—especially a sword art. Don’t use it in an actual fight until it’s complete."

Sheo bowed respectfully. "Understood."

"Good. You may leave."

Sheo glanced at the crowd, then at Shuna, before quietly walking away. The hall slowly emptied, but the legend of what had happened today was just beginning to spread.

Back in his room, Sheo sat cross-legged, circulating his energy and meditating. His energy flowed like a smooth river, following the path described in the Matrix Technique. He still didn’t know the level of this mysterious method, but it was easily a thousand times more efficient than his previous technique—if not more.

Sheo was sharp-minded. Over the past ten years of being considered "nothing," he had honed his senses and predictive skills. He could think of multiple outcomes to a single situation in the blink of an eye. But he had always lacked the energy to act on those predictions—until now.

He sensed someone approaching. Then, a knock came at the door, followed by it gently swinging open. Sheo didn’t move. He already knew it would be Elder Shuna and had left the door unlocked in anticipation.

After a few more cycles of energy circulation, Sheo opened his eyes. All the tiredness of the day had vanished. Sitting on his bed, Elder Shuna looked at him with curious eyes.

Sheo took a deep breath and began explaining what had happened the day before—well, most of it. He spoke of the strange man who helped him and how his condition was cured. But he left out key details: the Sword Mind and the Matrix Technique.

Shuna, however, got stuck on one thing. “Damaged energy paths?” she asked, frowning. “How could that be? You were never attacked during your premature state. If your energy paths were that damaged, it should have happened after your awakening…”

Then her eyes widened as a thought struck like lightning. Could it be... his energy paths were already damaged before he was brought to the orphanage? That would mean… he awakened his gene energy before the age of two! That’s insane...

She didn’t voice this theory out loud. Instead, she asked in a more serious tone, “Did you make that man your teacher?”

Sheo paused, then nodded. He expected disappointment. But instead, a gentle smile formed on Shuna’s lips.

“I’m glad,” she said. “It’s a blessing to find a true expert willing to teach you.” She chuckled softly. “Don’t forget, I’m still your teacher too.”

She then added, “Why don’t you show me your energy now that you’ve awakened it?”

Sheo hesitated. He glanced around the room, unsure if it was safe. Seeing this, Shuna snapped her fingers. A flame barrier surged around them, sealing the room from the outside world.

Taking a deep breath, Sheo opened his eyes. They gleamed with confidence and power. As he circulated his energy, the very air around them changed—bending to its new master. Crackling lightning began to dance across his body.

Then, with a simple gesture, he summoned a lightning-formed sword. Shuna’s eyes widened in surprise. She could feel it—his Rising Nemesis Level energy was already greater than Luzi’s, who was at half-Nemesis level.

The lightning vanished into Sheo’s body as if it had never existed.

“That’s impressive,” Shuna nodded. “A lightning-derived energy type is very rare. I’ll see if I can find any techniques that suit it.”

Sheo bowed slightly. “Thank you.”

Shuna continued, “Your sword art—was that your own creation?”

“Yes,” Sheo confirmed.

“You have a solid foundation,” she said, “but you're trying to blend speed and strength all at once. Focus on one at a time. Build them separately, then merge.”

Sheo nodded. He had sensed this flaw himself.

After a brief pause, Shuna flicked her hand, and a book materialized from her storage ring. She handed it to him. “This is a movement technique I found in an ancient ruin. It’s extremely difficult and requires strong, pure energy. I tried it with flame, wind, and water—but it never worked. Maybe lightning is the key.”

The cover read: 9 Path Movement Technique.

Sheo flipped through the pages, absorbing every detail. After memorizing it, he handed the book back. His brows furrowed. “This technique... it doesn’t mention any specific energy type.”

Shuna nodded. “Yes. It feels like parts of the text are missing. Don’t practice it until you completely understand it. Anyway, I should go—it’s already past midnight.”

With a few more words, she left. Sheo practiced his energy circulation a bit more, then drifted to sleep.

The next morning, a conference was held at the orphanage. All the students were gathered as the four elders stood on raised platforms. Elder Bulma stepped forward and began the announcement.

“Today,” she said, “I am assigning a mission. A dungeon was recently discovered in the nearby mountain range. It restricts those above the Nemesis Level, making it perfect for our top junior disciples.”

She gestured to a tall girl who stepped onto the stage. She was beautiful, with long hair and a striking presence—but her cold, expressionless eyes warned others to stay away.

“This is Elisa,” Bulma continued. “She will lead this expedition. She specializes in daggers and close-combat. A pinnacle-level Nemesis user.”

Then came the real surprise.

“We have also chosen two more juniors: Luzi and Sheo.”

A ripple of shock spread through the crowd. Even Sheo’s eyes widened in disbelief. He looked toward Shuna, who was smiling knowingly.

So that’s why she came last night... he realized.

“Sheo and Luzi, come to the stage.”

The two stepped forward and stood beside Elisa. While Luzi’s selection was expected, Sheo’s inclusion left many speechless.

“The three of you will depart tomorrow morning for the Jilop Mountain Range,” Bulma concluded. “You must return within one month—before the Moon Festival. We believe this dungeon may be the grave of an ancient expert. It was well-hidden and protected by powerful seals.”

After the announcement, the crowd dispersed, leaving only the three juniors.

Elisa spoke coldly, “Meet me here tomorrow at 6 a.m. sharp.”

Luzi and Sheo nodded.

Later, Sheo visited his training spot. Missions like this were rare for him, and he was thrilled. But he calmed himself and turned his focus to the 9 Path Movement Technique.

He realized it wasn’t hard—just incomplete. Like a puzzle missing a few key pieces. Without them, it was an entirely different technique. Still, he believed he could adapt it using his Sword Art.

He wrapped his legs in lightning energy and visualized a movement path.

Let’s try it.

With a blur, he moved several meters instantly. A wave of happiness surged through him. He had done it—the missing energy was replaced by his pure lightning, and fueled by his Sword Mind, the technique activated.

For hours, he practiced. Within three hours, he could confidently say he had reached the Minor Level of mastery.

He tested it with his sword art, dashing forward and executing five to six slashes. His speed had tripled—but his motion was too linear. Too predictable.

He dug deeper into the technique’s theory.

According to the text, a master of this technique could shift between nine paths almost instantaneously. It offered immense speed, but stopping mid-way could cause injury. At early stages, however, using fewer paths was safer and more stable.

He chose to try two paths.

Energy surged through him. He disappeared, hit the first path—but lost control before reaching the second. He crashed straight into the waterfall.

Coughing and soaked, Sheo crawled out and sat on a rock. His body ached.

“I see,” he muttered. “I used all my energy on the first path. I had nothing left for a transition.”

This time, he visualized three points in space.

His body vanished and reappeared at the first... then the second... and finally the third. He succeeded.

Hours passed. He steadily reached five paths with decent control. Any more was impossible—his level just wasn’t high enough.

Now it was time to integrate the movement into his sword style. But the sun was already high. He decided to call it a day and prepare for tomorrow’s mission.

As he descended the mountain, he spotted the long stairway below.

Grinning, he picked five points in space—and in five seconds, he was at the bottom. Normally, it would have taken five minutes.

But the strain on his energy was significant.

Not smart to overuse this... he thought.

Back in his room, Sheo packed clothes and essentials into his storage ring. He glanced at his student uniform and smiled. He practiced energy circulation for a while longer, then went to sleep.

Tomorrow would be interesting.