As they walked beside him, Sagan realized that, let alone being out of breath, they didn't even seem tired. He was still digesting the power he had just witnessed. He knew his father and uncle were powerful, but what he saw was overwhelming. He was also aware that he couldn't even see most of it.
What was that? I couldn't even see most of it, even though they clearly slowed down for me.
"So, what do you think, kiddo? Impressed?" his uncle asked with his signature grin.
Sagan barely responded, his mind still wandering. "Y-Yes, Uncle... that was unbelievably impressive."
Hands down, that was better than movies. I couldn't wait to do that myself.
Seeing his nephew's eyes filled with awe and amazement, Hyuk and Jianhong waited for him to calm down—which he did, relatively fast.
Even though he'd calmed down, that battle was now engraved in his memory.
His father spoke as he sat down. "Do you know why I called your uncle here, Sagan?"
Sagan glanced at his uncle. The answer seemed obvious. "Is it because of what happened in the Awakening Ritual, Father?" he replied, half-confident, half-hesitant.
It has to be. There's no other reason to call someone like Uncle Hyuk unless it's huge.
His father smiled warmly and asked again, "Why do you think that?"
Now feeling a bit more confident from that subtle confirmation, Sagan answered, "We both have the same dragon-shaped sign. Mine is on my shoulder, and his is on his face."
"You are correct," Jianhong said with approval. "Do you remember what the Awakening Ritual was?"
As he was asked again, Sagan realized this might turn into some kind of quiz. Well, he was always ready anyway.
Okay. Test time. Don't mess this up.
"Yes. The Awakening Ritual is a ritual designed to awaken the subject's innate physique and its potential," Sagan recited from one of his books.
"Correct—but incomplete. Not all physiques are equal. Some are far more extreme. That's especially true for yours." He paused to let Sagan take that in. "Your physique is known as the True Dragon Martial Body. Its origins can be traced back to the era of myths, and it only appears once every millennium—give or take a century."
True Dragon Martial Body…? Every thousand years? What the heck is in… no, is my body? And I thought being a demigod was unique enough.
"Does that mean my body is special?"
"Yes, my little star. Very special. That's why I asked my brother—the last known person to possess that body—to teach you about it. But before we start your training, you need to choose which martial arts you want to learn," Jianhong explained.
That embarrassing name again… Focus, Sagan, this is important; you can rant about that later.
"Can I learn yours, Father?" Sagan asked, putting his questions about his body aside for now.
Jianhong gave a bitter smile before answering. "No, you can't, Sagan. Because my martial arts are flawed at their core."
Flawed? If fathers martial arts have such issues how he moves so fast… and how did he sliced that mountain?
"I don't understand."
"It's understandable. Let me explain. When I was born, my body was so weak and fragile that even the smallest impact could damage me..."
What...?
"...It was chronic, and it persisted even after I joined Wudang. I was so weak that even wooden training swords—let alone real ones—were too heavy for me to use..."
This... this can't be the same man. No way. Father was weak?
"...One day Grandmaster Golden Crane himself came to watch our training. He understood my situation instantly with just a glance and chose me as his youngest disciple. He created a technique entirely dependent on the soft sword and mastery of flow. Thus, Ten Thousand Rivers Martial Arts was born. A martial art that used none of its user's power.
I refined it again and again until, one day, I became one of the Ten Absolutes and later managed to ascend to the heavens. But that's a story for another time. This martial art was made solely for me. It's incredibly inefficient—so much so that it barely works. You, on the other hand, have the absolute opposite kind of body."
Sagan looked at his father's lean yet firm body with curiosity. His father never seemed fragile to him. Well, he gave such a feeling, but he also saw him do some superhuman things. Then he remembered reading something about this in his father's library. He dived into his memories and found it:
Right. Something about physical refinement and transcendence—metamorphosis? After reaching Fusion, the body and art become one…That explains both this and why father looks so young.
"So… which martial arts can I learn?" Sagan asked, a bit impatiently. He wanted to be able to do all those cool things now.
"I have two techniques suitable for you. The first is my brother's Heavenly Demon Martial Arts. This art belongs to the Sun Moon Divine Cult and is known as the second strongest. Its signature is purple flames and a vast Qi reserve."
"Second? What's the first?" Sagan couldn't resist his curiosity. Thankfully, his father answered before his thoughts spiraled.
"Starry Skies Martial Arts," Jianhong replied.
Sagan searched his memory, but he had neither read nor heard of that art before.
Starry Skies...? That name doesn't even come up in my father's journals. How can the strongest art be something I've never heard or read about?
"Starry Skies Martial Arts? I've never heard of it."
"I'd think you were an oracle if you had. Because Starry Skies Martial Arts has never had a user," Jianhong explained.
"Why? I don't think anyone would refuse to grow powerful," Sagan said, confused.
"To understand that, I need to explain how and why this art was created. Did I ever tell you what an Absolute is?"
"No. You've mentioned it before but never really explained. I assume it's a title?" Sagan asked thoughtfully.
"Yes. Absolute is the title of the half-transcendents—the pinnacle of martial artists. Before we were born, martial arts were in decline. Year by year, the talent pool was shrinking..."
So it's not just legends. Things were really bad back then.
"...Before our time, the number of Absolutes never exceeded four. But we had ten—me, Hyuk, the Plum Blossom Sword Saint, the Abbot of Shaolin, the Sage of Beggars, the King of Shadows, the Tyrant of Fist, the Empress of Ice, the Poison Phoenix, and the Blood Demon.
Our generation was called The Nova because we all felt like we were the last lights of a dying star.
Because of that, my other brother, Plum Blossom Sword Saint, came to me with an insane ambition."
Jianhong paused, took a sip from his cup. Some servants brought Sagan a few snacks. Seeing his father slip into storytelling mode, Sagan prepared himself with his snacks.
Here we go… story mode activated. Time to listen and snack.
After finishing his drink, Jianhong continued. "I remember it like it was yesterday. It was around midnight. I was resting, watching the starry sky..."
Midnight. Of course. Always midnight with you guys.
"...He charged up the mountain like a storm, and when he looked at me, his eyes were brighter than the stars. He told me about his plan to create the greatest martial art. He knew—we all knew—that we were the last brilliant lights of our era..."
That's heavy. And kind of tragic. But also… cool. Like, mythical kind of cool.
"...He wanted us to leave as we lived—standing tall, with pride and defiance...
So we started to work. And boy, wasn't that fun. Do you still remember, brother?" Jianhong asked.
"Of course! It was a disaster, nephew—a complete disaster," Hyuk said, laughing. "Each of us thought we were the best in our own path. Nobody listened to anyone. It was pure, untamed chaos."
Now that is something anybody can see. Too many chefs, one divine kitchen.
"...So how did you finish it?"
"We beat some sense into them," both said at the same time.
"Didn't you say you were equals?" Sagan asked suspiciously.
"Well, we were equals one-on-one. But me, Myung, and Hyuk ganged up."
Unfair. Absolutely unfair. But also kind of smart...
"Their faces were hilarious when we attacked them three-on-one."
Both burst into laughter before Jianhong continued.
"Long story short, we each contributed our specialty to the technique. Abbott and Tyrant made the body arts; Hyuk and Blood Demon created mind art for it, etc. But we stumbled upon a giant problem."
"What problem?"
"Well… the idea was good on paper. But we forgot about compatibility. For example, soft sword arts need flexibility and a lean build, which clashes with the muscle density needed for the Tyrant's power, etc.
Always the catch. Nothing is ever simple.
...So we decided to place every requirement on talent."
Jianhong explained further, noticing the confusion written all over Sagan's face.
"All martial arts sacrifice something to gain power. Fire arts sacrifice ice, and vice versa. We put everything into talent and foundation. That's why this art has never had a user. The bare minimum requirements include: the True Dragon Martial Body, innately high dexterity, poison resistance trained from infancy, high bone density, IQ over 100… those are just the major ones. There are more minor conditions, but they're less important."
"And you meet all of them, my nephew. Mostly because your father literally feeds you liquid gold."
Now even more confused, Sagan asked, "Liquid gold?"
"Yeah, or liquid gems, even. This entire estate is made of wood that only grows in Heaven's gardens. Even the air and water here are treasures!"
…Excuse me? Wait, that explains why I am a lot bigger than the kids in the city.
"...I don't even want to know what your father used in that ritual, because that body normally doesn't awaken that easily. It took me ten years. But seriously, what the f—heck did you use in that bath?"
"Not something big. Just some old wine from my master. He told me he stole it when he was young. It was just one bottle, though," Jianhong replied with a grin.
Hyuk visibly paled with every word. "Your m-master's old wine?! You overprotective maniac! You are the definition of a helicopter parent. Why do you even have that?!"
'What kind of wine is that anyway? Wait a minute…
While Jianhong barely held back his laughter, he didn't expect to find himself in the same situation.
"Doesn't that mean I can drink alcohol now? YIPPIE!" Sagan yelled, rushing off before his father could react.
"NO! Sagan, I said no! Wait, you little road runner—Bai, don't let him near any bottles!" his father shouted, playfully running after him, letting his son enjoy the last moments of his childhood.
Martial arts were amazing, but training, especially training with the Heavenly Demon, not so much.
*****************
AN: With this chapter we really start Sagans journey and put him in the center of story with the inside of his mind. He is obviosly not like 7 years old because of his demigod heritage and the effect of his growing conditions.Anyway the book really starts now which is something I am exited becouse writing this book is much easier and enjoyable than my other one.Who couldhave guess trying to merge two small universe is lot easier than fixing the mess called dcu and GW. Anyway I wont spoil anything but I hate plot armor bullshit(Prophecies dosent count) so if something look like it even smells like it just wait everything will have an explanation. Thank you for reading and have a magnificent day my friends.
Here is a drive link to my backup. If something happens to webnovel.
https://docs.google.com/document/d/13X4IhYUT5yvHdGN7KN2Z9Dp0nzV-IGk0/edit?usp=drive_link&ouid=114150506712981331742&rtpof=true&sd=true