A young man walked toward the old well in the yard of a two-story wooden house. He drew water with a wooden bucket and a cloth rope. “Arga!” someone called from the side. The young man stopped his work and turned toward the voice. He saw a girl waving. Arga returned her wave and offered a smile. But a moment later a haughty-looking youth appeared behind the girl. He glared at Arga and made a throat-slitting gesture. The girl turned and was startled to see the young man standing there. “Bhirawa! You followed me again!?” she snapped in annoyance. “Why are you greeting that trash? He doesn’t deserve a greeting from anyone,” Bhirawa said with a sneer in Arga’s direction. “But he’s our senior! You shouldn’t act like that, should you!?” the girl protested, still upset that Bhirawa followed her everywhere she went. At her words Bhirawa laughed aloud. “A senior? How can someone who can’t do anything be called a senior in our sect? He’s even weaker than a cat! It’s an embarrass

Narada turned toward Arga, who lay on the ground clutching his right leg. The middle-aged man shook his head and clicked his tongue. From the look in his eyes, it was clear how disappointed he was with his disciple’s actions. “This is truly outrageous! I never imagined I had raised a wolf,” he muttered softly as he stepped closer to Arga. The man crouched and pressed a point on the young man’s thigh. After the acupoint strike, Arga appeared calmer, the pain subsiding somewhat. “Thank you, Master…” Arga whispered. Master Narada did not respond. He stood, gazing toward the trees. “If you do not change your ways, I will show no mercy to those of you who have broken the rules of our Sect,” he said in a quiet voice that still echoed through the forest. Bhirawa’s five friends immediately emerged from hiding and knelt before Master Narada. “Forgive us, Master… We were blinded and committed disgraceful acts against Senior Brother Arga…” said the young man who had earlier broken Arga

Arga’s eyes slowly opened. The first thing he saw was a ceiling made of palm leaves.He could still feel the throbbing pain in his back. Slowly, he tried shifting his body to sit on the bamboo cot. A creaking sound came from the old bamboo bed.His eyes caught sight of a cup made from bamboo, filled with some kind of liquid. Steam was still rising from it, a sign that the drink had just been brewed.From outside the hut came the sound of wood being chopped.With all his strength, while enduring the pain, Arga walked while holding onto the wall of the hut.His face twisted in pain. But his curiosity outweighed the pain, and he kept moving toward the door.When he reached the doorway, Arga was startled. The hut he was in stood high atop a tree. His eyes looked down to where the sound of wood chopping came from.Thin smoke rose beside a bald-headed man who was busy chopping firewood.That thin smoke came from food being cooked by the bald man.“Who is he… Could he be the one who saved me

Three years passed quickly. Arga had mastered all the techniques and internal energy that Barata had taught him. Barata’s training had been grueling, but Arga graduated after completing the final stage — the third stage.Arga remembered the beginning of his training. Barata had told him to chop wood, fetch water, and search for precious stones. Barata said those gems could channel internal energy, and they were extremely valuable. One red stone could be worth hundreds of taels of gold.The first stage lasted a year: Arga had to cut one thousand pieces of wood, each exactly the same size. That exercise was about balance, and Arga succeeded perfectly.He also learned to carry water quickly, even while running. That practice strengthened his arm, shoulder, and leg muscles — the foundation for stable stances in combat. Everything had to be strong.The purpose of these drills was to toughen Arga’s body; during a fight, muscular strength and endurance would keep him standing even when utter

Arga fixed his gaze on the man who had just arrived. He sensed a different aura. The man named Marga was somewhat stronger than the band of losers he had dealt with earlier in the tavern.“Who are you, really!?” Marga barked harshly.Arga only sighed as he looked at the sturdy man. Just by glancing at Marga’s body, he could already see several weak points.Feeling ignored, Marga immediately launched a swift attack at the young man with the red headband.His right fist swung with frightening force. If it landed, it could have shattered bones instantly.But Arga easily evaded it. He shifted to the right, and with lightning speed, his left hand struck Marga’s shoulder.Two of Arga’s fingers pressed against Marga’s right shoulder, the one he had just used to attack. At once, Marga felt his right arm go limp, completely useless.“What has this man done to my arm!?” Marga thought angrily. He tried to move it, but nothing happened.Seeing how Arga had dodged and countered his strikes so effo