The Final Assessment

Asher collapsed onto the iron bed, devoid of the strength to even lift a finger. Under Ronan's relentless tutelage, he had repeated the basic movements of Crescent Moon from afternoon until night. A simple leg sweep practiced all day long still fell short of Ronan's standards. It was clear that this monotonous action would accompany Asher for a long time to come.

The military's combat technique, "Ten Strikes," if broken down, consisted of moves so basic that even civilians could execute them. However, to refine each movement to perfection, practicing thousands of times, was beyond the perseverance of ordinary people. Take Ronan's demonstration of Crescent Moon, for instance—its speed, precision, and power all had stringent requirements.

If these standards weren't met, it was just a simple leg sweep.

Moreover, the essence of Crescent Moon lay not in the sweep itself but in maintaining one's center of gravity throughout. Only by finding the balance point between attacks could one truly master Crescent Moon.

Mastering Crescent Moon's technique and extending it to the weapon in hand, considering the weapon as an extension of the body, would qualify Asher as competent. This is why the Ten Strikes, though primarily composed of punches and kicks, are revered as the soul of all combat techniques due to their expansive adaptability.

Staring at the ceiling, Asher's gaze had gone numb. The three of them were now assigned to separate rooms, a step up from their previous accommodations. The rooms, still made of corrugated iron, contained a few simple pieces of furniture in addition to the iron bed. 'Rampage' leaned in the corner by the bed, like an inconspicuous iron rod.

The iron door was tapped lightly, followed by a girl's voice from outside, "Are you there? Asher."

Asher was surprised; it was Melly. The third to ignite her spark, she was a well-developed fourteen-year-old girl. Her appearance wasn't striking, but her long legs constantly drew the attention of instructors and soldiers.

Conversations among the youths were rare, especially for Asher, who was wholly devoted to his training. He hadn't spoken much with Melly—or any boy, for that matter. He wondered what she wanted now.

Upon opening the door, Melly slipped inside. Her hands nervously fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, her breath quickening slightly as her eyes glanced over the black steel broadsword. Then, with an awkward smile, she said, "I guess you just got back."

Asher had never been this close to a girl, let alone shared a room. At his age, he should have been aware of the dynamics between men and women. However, Asher's life since the age of five had been largely isolated from human society, leaving him quite ignorant in this regard. Instinctively, he felt nervous, puzzled why he could remain calm facing a ferocious beast but felt tense around the seemingly harmless Melly.

He sat on the bed, looking down to hide his confusion, and blurted out, "Is there something you need?"

Melly approached and sat beside him, saying, "I want to be your partner."

"Partner?"

Asher looked up, almost bumping into Melly's face. He quickly recoiled, and she nodded, "That Mauro, I can't stand him. So, I thought, maybe we could team up, and then he wouldn't stand a chance."

She paused before adding, "My plan is simple: I just want to survive. I've heard that in two months we'll have an assessment. When that time comes, only one person can leave alive. If we work together, taking down Mauro shouldn't be difficult."

"And after that?" Asher frowned.

"I'll run away, and then you can go back to the camp and report that I was killed too. I may have ignited my spark, but I used the Awakening Elixir three times. According to the instructors, I'll live at most another ten years. So the chance to change my fate means nothing to me. I just want to live well for the time I have left. It's that simple." Melly met Asher's gaze with clear eyes.

After a minute, Asher whispered, "You shouldn't have told me this..."

"No, I really want to be your partner. I can help you, and I can... make you happy..." Melly gently took Asher's hand and placed it on her thigh.

It was the first time Asher had touched a girl's skin. Though Melly's skin was not smooth due to the training, it gave Asher an unfamiliar sensation. As Melly guided his hand further up her thigh, Asher instinctively knew what was to come.

Just as the temperature in the metal hut began to rise, Ronan's voice suddenly called from outside, "Melly, get out here. I know you're in there. Don't test my patience."

Melly's expression changed, and she quickly ran out. A loud slap followed, along with Ronan's angry scolding. When Asher stepped outside, Melly was gone. Turning to the lieutenant, Ronan was looking back with a mischievous smile, "You should thank me, kid. Otherwise, you wouldn't have the energy to train tomorrow."

"Now get back to bed and sleep. Forget about women. What you need to think about is how to survive. With strength, you'll have any woman you want." Ronan glanced in the direction Melly had disappeared, "As for her, she's just a little whore."

Over the next month, Asher repeated the tedious training every day. The happiest moments were the two hours of meditation, one of the ways to train Source Energy. For now, there were two main methods for refining Source Energy: meditation, which involved consciously maneuvering the Source Energy in a regular pattern to enhance it, and combat.

This method, known as "battle nourishment," meant using combat to cultivate combat power. In life-or-death struggles, the spirit and will are highly focused, and Source Energy flows tens or even hundreds of times faster than in meditation. Thus, those who survive a deadly fight often experience a surge in strength.

Of course, relying solely on one method is not viable; combining both is the most beneficial way to refine Source Energy.

A month later, Asher met the basic requirements for Crescent Moon. He managed to decapitate a metal dummy with a single sweep, barely meeting the speed, power, and precision criteria. Ronan then allowed him to practice with Rampage, where the same movement with a different weapon increased the difficulty exponentially.

However, with the foundation laid by previous practice, Asher only needed half the time to execute a standard Crescent Moon with Rampage. And by then, his repeated exercises and meditation had allowed him to condense three Source Energy vortices.

That day, Ronan began instructing Asher on advanced Crescent Moon techniques.

Asher's task was to find and master the balance point between attacks, which Ronan called the breath of combat.

"Just like our normal breathing, there's a subtle balance between inhaling and exhaling that keeps the air in our lungs level. Finding the balance point between attacks will make your combat rhythm as natural and smooth as breathing. The smoother the attack, the fewer the openings, meaning you can suppress your enemy for longer. Remember, combat is about suppression, looking for opportunities, and delivering a fatal blow. Don't waste time on superfluous actions; we're soldiers, assassins, not performers on a stage!"

From that day on, Asher's physical and strength training were halved. The extra time was devoted to practicing advanced Crescent Moon techniques, and he trained until exhaustion before Ronan would dismiss him. Since that peculiar night, Asher hadn't spoken a word to Melly. An occasional nod was the extent of their interaction.

As Asher's skills progressed rapidly, Mauro and Melly kept up with their specialized training. Two weeks flew by, and Asher had begun to grasp the intricacies of combat. He could now execute five consecutive Crescent Moons with Rampage. This meant that once he seized the opportunity to attack, his opponent would have to wait until he had slashed five times before finding a chance to counter.

If Asher's Source Energy were deeper, his skill more refined, the number of consecutive slashes could increase. When he could execute over a hundred in succession, he would have mastered a more popular combat skill: Thousand Moons.

Those adept at Thousand Moons could easily earn the rank of lieutenant in a regular army, just like Ronan.

On the last day of the fifth month, the three youths were given a day off. They were free to do anything except leave the camp. Tomorrow, they would face the final and most crucial assessment of the training camp.

They would be thrown into the woods behind the camp, and over the next three days, they had to eliminate two of their number to qualify for leaving the camp.

With the decisive battle for survival and fate looming the next day, Asher didn't rest. He continued to hone his skills against the metal dummies in the air-raid shelter. Meanwhile, Mauro and Melly locked themselves in a metal hut for a day of frenzy. It seemed that after being interrupted by Ronan that night, Melly had shifted her target. She had teamed up with Mauro, indicating that tomorrow Asher would face their combined assault.

Before sunset, Asher left the shelter. Inside lay several dummies, slashed to pieces. On one of them were seven cuts of equal length and depth. Ronan smiled upon seeing these marks; Asher's skills had taken another leap forward, adding two more strikes, equivalent to a 30% increase in power.

And this time, it had taken only a day. Ronan's expectations for the white-haired youth grew.

After a night of restful sleep, Asher awoke with the dawn's first light. He picked up Rampage from the corner, his fingers tracing the cold blade. Then, looking up, his crimson eyes blazed with an intense desire for battle!