Quantum Immortal

The first rays of dawn broke over the horizon, casting a golden glow across the village. Wuji stood in the orphanage courtyard, sweat dripping down his brow as he performed his morning exercises.

His muscles ached, a familiar burn from the relentless training he'd been putting himself through for over two years now. Yet despite his physical progress, there was a gnawing feeling in his gut—a sense of incompleteness.

No matter how strong he became, Wuji had a growing realization that sheer physical strength wasn't enough. After hearing the bard speak of the sect exams, he knew that those who succeeded didn't just need strength; they needed precision, agility, and complete control over their bodies.

They needed to react in an instant, to feel the flow of energy in a battle, and respond with reflexes honed to perfection. Without that, no amount of muscle would help him pass the sect exams.

As he paused from his exercise, Wuji clenched his fists, deep in thought. 'Just training the body isn't enough,' he mused. 'I need to sharpen my reflexes. To fight is not just to endure but to dominate, to respond before your opponent even moves.'

His mind raced through possible solutions, but only one came to mind—sparring. Actual combat would hone his reflexes, heighten his senses, and prepare him for the unknown dangers of the sect exams. But he also needed guidance.

Later that day, Wuji gathered his friends—Mei, Jinhai, and Zhen—near the edge of the village forest, where they often met to discuss their progress. He had been thinking deeply about their next steps and knew it was time to bring up his plan.

"We've been training our bodies for two years now," Wuji began, his tone serious as he addressed them. "But just being strong isn't enough. If we want to pass the sect exams, we need to be faster, sharper, and more precise. We need to know how to fight, really fight. Not just hit harder, but respond quicker. That's why I think we should start sparring."

Jinhai, who towered over the rest with his broad shoulders and powerful build, grunted. "Makes sense. My body feels strong, but I've noticed I'm slow to react when someone makes a sudden move. A good opponent would see through that."

Mei, always agile and light on her feet, nodded. "I've been working on my balance, but I know it's different when you're facing an actual enemy."

Zhen, the quietest of the group, simply nodded in agreement, his eyes reflecting the same determination as the others.

"But sparring isn't enough by itself," Wuji continued. "We need to learn how to use weapons. Real weapons. And for that, we'll need help from the village guards."

Jinhai raised an eyebrow. "The guards? They're not exactly generous with their time."

"They won't teach us for free," Wuji agreed, "but I've thought of a way we can afford it. They'll agree to train us if we pay them. A silver coin per month per person. It's not cheap, but we can make it work by doing odd jobs around the village. I've already started making money by selling my wood carvings."

He paused, looking over at Mei, who had been listening intently. "I'll pay for you, Mei," Wuji said. "You're younger, and you're like a sister to me. It's only right that I help."

Mei looked touched but hesitated. "I don't want to be a burden, Wuji..."

"You're not a burden," Wuji replied firmly. "We're all in this together. I want us all to succeed, and this is the best way I can help."

Mei smiled and nodded, accepting his offer.

Jinhai and Zhen, however, both shook their heads. "We appreciate it," Jinhai said, "but we'll pay our own way. We can't let you shoulder everything for us."

Zhen chimed in quietly. "It wouldn't feel right. We can find work. We'll manage."

Wuji respected their decision. He knew that they, too, had their pride, and in truth, it only made him more certain that they were in this together as equals.

With their plan in place, the four of them approached the village guards. After negotiating with a grizzled veteran named Old Bao, who had served as a guard for over two decades, they secured a deal. One silver coin per month per person, and in exchange, the guards would teach them how to wield weapons.

Old Bao had laughed when they first approached him, skeptical that a group of children could even afford such a fee. But when Wuji showed him the silver coins he'd earned from selling his carvings, the man's laughter faded, and he agreed to the arrangement.

Each of them chose a weapon that suited their strengths.

Wuji, inspired by the tale of the Mad Swordsman, chose the sword. Its balance of speed and lethality appealed to him, and he dreamed of one day using it to dominate his enemies.

Jinhai, with his massive frame and strength, gravitated toward the war hammer, believing that absolute power could crush any obstacle.

Mei, swift and agile, chose daggers, favoring their speed and versatility.

Zhen, quiet and precise, opted for a short sword, something quick and light that suited his careful, deliberate nature.

Their training with the guards was brutal. Old Bao was merciless, teaching them the basic stances, how to grip their weapons, and how to balance their bodies in combat. Each day they sparred with one another, their movements clumsy at first but gradually sharpening as they learned the nuances of their chosen weapons.

But training wasn't enough. Wuji knew that real combat would teach them far more than just sparring in a controlled environment. And so, after weeks of training, they began venturing into the forest to hunt wild beasts.

-----

The first time they faced a wild beast, it was a disaster.

They had wandered deeper into the forest, looking for a beast strong enough to test their abilities. Eventually, they found one—a wild boar, large and aggressive. It charged at them with terrifying speed, and for a moment, they froze.

Wuji was the first to react, raising his sword to parry the boar's tusks. The force of the impact sent him stumbling backward, and he barely managed to hold his ground. Jinhai, seeing Wuji struggle, rushed forward with his hammer, swinging it down at the boar's back. But the beast was quicker than expected, dodging to the side and ramming into Jinhai's legs, knocking him off balance.

Mei darted around the beast, slashing at its hind legs with her daggers, but her strikes were too shallow to do much damage. Zhen, meanwhile, stood at a distance, waiting for an opening with his short sword.

The fight dragged on for what felt like an eternity. They made mistake after mistake, their inexperience showing with every misstep. In the end, it was sheer luck that saved them—Wuji managed to land a lucky strike that cut deep into the boar's neck, killing it instantly.

They were exhausted, bruised, and shaken. Wuji himself had suffered a deep gash on his arm from one of the boar's tusks, and Jinhai's leg was swollen from where the beast had rammed into him.

But despite their injuries, they had learned something valuable. Real combat was nothing like sparring. The wild beasts didn't follow predictable patterns. They didn't give you time to think or plan. You had to react, and you had to react fast.

-----

Over the next few months, they continued venturing into the forest, hunting wild beasts and learning from each encounter. There were more mistakes, more injuries, but with each battle, they grew stronger, more capable. Their reflexes sharpened, their movements became quicker and more precise, and their understanding of combat deepened.

Wuji, in particular, took to the sword with an intensity that bordered on obsession. He practiced relentlessly, not just in the morning but late into the night, his mind filled with visions of the Mad Swordsman carving through his enemies with ruthless efficiency. The sword became an extension of his body, its weight, and balance as familiar to him as his own hands.

Jinhai, too, improved dramatically. His hammer strikes were slower than Wuji's sword, but when they connected, they hit with the force of a mountain. Mei's agility made her nearly untouchable in combat, and Zhen, though quiet and reserved, had developed a precision with his short sword that was unmatched among them.

Yet, despite their progress, Wuji knew that the road ahead was long. The sect exams were still eight years away, and they had much to learn.

---

One night, after a particularly grueling training session, Wuji lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. His mind raced with thoughts of the future, of the sect exams, of Qi cultivation, and of the path that lay ahead. But something else lingered in his mind—an uneasy feeling that he couldn't quite shake.

For weeks now, he had felt as though he was being watched. It was a strange sensation, subtle yet persistent, as though unseen eyes were observing his every move.

As sleep finally overtook him, Wuji's dreams were filled with shadowy figures. Among them was a presence—a celestial being, distant and powerful, watching him from the heavens above. It was as though the heavens themselves were taking an interest in his life, in his progress.

"He's progressing well," the being whispered, their voice echoing through the heavens. "Perhaps it's time to nudge him in the right direction… The boy may prove useful."

And so, the wheels of fate turned, as forces beyond Wuji's comprehension began to weave his destiny into something far greater than a mere village boy's ambition.