With the book spread open before him, Draco immersed himself in the ancient techniques of Qi cultivation. His fingers traced the intricate diagrams, his mind absorbing the wisdom contained within the pages. As he delved deeper into the text, he felt a growing sense of excitement and determination building within him.

The first technique he decided to try was "Qi Channeling," a foundational skill that required precise control of breath and movement. With a focused mind and steady breath, Draco began to follow the instructions, assuming the prescribed poses and flowing through the sequence with practiced ease.

Step by step, he moved through the motions, his body responding to the subtle flow of energy around him. With each breath, he felt a tingling sensation coursing through his limbs, a sign that the Qi was beginning to respond to his commands. The air around him seemed to hum with latent energy, as if the very essence of the world was awakening to his presence.

Draco's movements became more fluid and graceful, his breath syncing with the rhythm of his body. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to be carried by the current of Qi as it pulsed through him like a mighty river. It was a sensation unlike anything he had ever experienced before, a feeling of connection to something vast and powerful beyond comprehension.

As he continued to practice, Draco couldn't help but marvel at how natural it felt. His father had always spoken of the challenges and hardships of cultivation, yet here he was, effortlessly channeling the energy within him as if it were second nature.

With a sense of growing confidence, Draco moved on to the next technique in the book: "Dragon Fist." This martial art technique was said to harness the power of the dragon itself, unleashing devastating blows with incredible speed and precision.

As Draco assumed the stance of the Dragon Fist, he felt a surge of energy coursing through his veins, his muscles humming with anticipation. With a sharp exhale, he unleashed a series of punches and kicks, each movement flowing seamlessly into the next.

To his surprise, Draco found himself executing the technique with remarkable skill and precision. His movements were fluid and controlled, each strike landing with a satisfying impact. It was as if the martial art had always been a part of him, waiting to be unleashed.

But even as Draco reveled in his newfound abilities, a nagging doubt lingered at the back of his mind. In the letter his father had spoken of the challenges of cultivation, yet here he was, mastering techniques with ease. Was it possible that he was simply a natural talent, a genius in the art of Qi cultivation?. He had always considered himself as an unremarkable child of an unremarkable couple living in an unremarkable village, it was hard for him to believe he could be a genius at something his father of all people considered hard.

As the afternoon sun began to dip below the horizon, Draco reluctantly called an end to his training session. Despite his initial reservations, he couldn't deny the progress he had made. It seemed that his journey into the world of cultivation was off to a promising start.

But as Draco packed up his things and prepared to head home, another thought crossed his mind. The book had mentioned that the blood of wild beasts could aid in cultivation, hastening the process and enhancing one's abilities.

Draco glanced towards the dense forest that lay beyond the clearing, his mind racing with possibilities. The idea of venturing into the unknown in search of a wild beast both thrilled and unnerved him. What if he encountered danger? What if his mother found out and forbade him from going?

But the lure of power and potential was too strong to resist. With a determined nod, Draco made up his mind. He would venture into the forest and hunt down a wild beast, no matter the risks.

And so, with the fading light of day as his guide, Draco disappeared into the shadows of the forest, his heart pounding with excitement and anticipation. Little did he know, his journey was only just beginning, and the true depths of his potential were yet to be revealed.

With a sense of purpose, Draco made his way back to the village, his thoughts already forming a plan. The first step was to acquire the right weapon. He headed straight to the blacksmith's forge, the rhythmic clang of hammer on metal growing louder as he approached.

Garros, the village blacksmith, was a sturdy man with a grizzled beard and muscular build. He looked up from his work as Draco entered, his eyes narrowing with curiosity.

"Afternoon, Draco," Garros greeted, wiping sweat from his brow. "What brings you here today?"

"Good afternoon, Garros," Draco replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "I was wondering if you could make me a knife and a short sword."

Garros raised an eyebrow, his expression one of mild curiosity. "A knife and a short sword? Planning on joining the army already?"

Draco hesitated for a moment before replying, "Not quite yet, but I thought it would be good to start practicing. My father always said it's never too early to prepare."

The blacksmith nodded thoughtfully, his eyes studying Draco. "True enough. Training early can make a difference. But you're sure you need a sword? Most folks around here stick to simpler tools for training."

Draco's mind raced as he formulated his response. While Dragon Fist was primarily a fist technique, the principles of Qi cultivation and martial arts were versatile and could be adapted to various weapons. "I'm practicing my family's sword technique and I think my training will go smoother if wild an actual sword". While this was not exactly true it was close enough for Draco.

Garros considered this for a moment before nodding in agreement. "Alright, lad. I'll make you a knife and a short sword. Come back tomorrow, and they should be ready."

Draco felt a surge of relief and excitement. "Thank you, Garros. I really appreciate it."

With the arrangements made, Draco left the forge and began the walk back home. The anticipation of the coming day filled his thoughts, and he couldn't help but imagine the adventures that awaited him in the forest. The next step in his journey was about to begin, and he felt more ready than ever.

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The next morning, Draco returned to the blacksmith's forge, his heart racing with anticipation. Garros greeted him with a nod and handed him the freshly crafted knife and short sword. The weapons felt balanced and sturdy in his hands, the craftsmanship evident in their design.

"These should serve you well," Garros said, a note of pride in his voice. "Remember to practice diligently and stay safe."

"Thank you, Garros," Draco replied, feeling a sense of gratitude. "I will."

With the weapons secured at his side, Draco set off towards the forest once more, determination burning in his eyes. He knew the journey ahead would be fraught with challenges, but he was ready to face them head-on. The path of the dragon lay before him, and he was eager to unleash his true potential.

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As he walked through the village, Draco couldn't help but notice the familiar sights and sounds of daily life. Children played in the streets, their laughter echoing through the air. Villagers went about their routines, tending to gardens, repairing homes, and preparing for the upcoming festival. It was a scene of simple, contented life, yet Draco's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts about his future.

He reached the outskirts of the village and entered the dense forest that bordered Green River. The trees loomed overhead, their branches intertwining to form a canopy that filtered the sunlight into dappled patterns on the forest floor. Draco took a deep breath, savoring the earthy scent of the woods as he ventured deeper into the wilderness.

With each step, the sounds of the village faded away, replaced by the rustling of leaves and the distant calls of wildlife. Draco's senses sharpened as he focused on his surroundings, his eyes scanning for any sign of movement. He knew that wild beasts roamed these woods, and he needed to be prepared for anything.

Draco paused by a stream, the clear water bubbling over smooth stones. He knelt down and took a sip, the cool liquid refreshing him. As he straightened up, his eyes caught sight of tracks in the mud—large paw prints that indicated the presence of a sizable creature. His heart quickened with anticipation.

Following the tracks, Draco moved cautiously through the underbrush, his hand resting on the hilt of his new short sword. The forest seemed to hold its breath, the only sound the soft crunch of leaves beneath his boots. He felt a surge of adrenaline, his mind and body attuned to the hunt.

The tracks led him to a clearing where the undergrowth was trampled and broken branches littered the ground. Draco's gaze swept the area, his eyes locking onto a massive form at the far edge of the clearing—a wild boar, its tusks gleaming in the sunlight as it rooted around for food.

Draco's breath caught in his throat as he observed the beast. It was larger than he had expected, its powerful muscles rippling beneath its coarse fur. The boar raised its head, its eyes scanning the clearing as if sensing an intruder. Draco knew he had to act quickly and decisively.

With practiced ease, he shifted into a fighting stance, the principles of Dragon Fist guiding his movements. The boar snorted, pawing the ground as it prepared to charge.

Draco waited until the last possible moment before lunging forward, his short sword slicing through the air with deadly precision. The blade connected with the boar's side, the force of the blow staggering the beast. The boar let out a furious bellow, its tusks swinging dangerously close as it retaliated.

Ducking and weaving, Draco evaded the boar's attacks, his movements fluid and controlled. He struck again, the short sword finding its mark and drawing blood. The boar's strength began to wane, its movements growing sluggish as it succumbed to its injuries.

With one final, powerful strike, Draco brought the beast down, its massive form collapsing to the ground with a heavy thud. He stood over the fallen creature, his chest heaving with exertion and exhilaration. The hunt had been successful, and the blood of the wild beast would aid in his cultivation.

Draco took a moment to catch his breath, the reality of what he had accomplished sinking in. He had faced a formidable opponent and emerged victorious, his skills and determination carrying him through. It was a testament to the power of martial arts and the potential that lay within him.

Carefully, Draco collected some of the boar's blood, storing it in a small vial he had brought for this purpose. He knew that this was only the beginning, that there were greater challenges and greater rewards awaiting him on the path of cultivation.

As he made his way back to the village, Draco felt a sense of pride and purpose. He had taken his first step into a larger world, one filled with possibilities and dangers. The path of the dragon lay before him, and he was ready to embrace it with all his heart.

As Draco made his way back home, the vial of wild boar blood carefully concealed in his bag, he couldn't shake the thrill of his successful hunt. He replayed the battle in his mind, each strike and maneuver etched vividly in his memory. The exhilaration of facing a formidable opponent had ignited a fire within him, one that yearned for more challenges and adventures.

When Draco reached the front door of his home, he took a moment to compose himself, steadying his breath and wiping any traces of sweat from his brow. He couldn't let his mother see any signs of the fight. With a deep breath, he stepped inside.

Darcia was in the kitchen, humming softly as she prepared dinner. The warm, inviting scent of her cooking filled the air, and for a moment, Draco felt a pang of guilt for keeping secrets from her. He loved his mother dearly and didn't want to cause her any worry.

"Draco, you're back," Darcia greeted with a smile, her eyes lighting up as she saw him. But then her gaze sharpened, taking in his disheveled appearance and the telltale signs of exertion. Her smile faded into a worried frown. "Were you in a fight?"

Draco hesitated for a split second before deciding it was better to admit to a false fight than reveal the truth about his encounter with the wild boar. "Yeah, I had a run-in with Roger."

Darcia's eyes widened with concern. "Roger? That bully? Are you hurt?"

"No, Mom, I'm fine," Draco reassured her, forcing a smile. "It wasn't anything serious. Just a few punches thrown, but no one got hurt."

Darcia's expression softened with relief, but her worry was still evident. "Draco, you know how I feel about violence. I've always told you that it's not the answer to our problems. Fighting only leads to more trouble."

"I know, Mom," Draco said, trying to sound contrite. "I didn't want to fight, but Roger started it. I had to defend myself."

Darcia sighed, her eyes filled with a mix of frustration and love. "I understand, but I want you to promise me that you'll try to avoid violence. There are better ways to handle conflicts."

"I promise," Draco replied, feeling a pang of guilt for deceiving her. He knew his mother only wanted what was best for him, and he hated causing her any distress.

Darcia's expression softened, and she reached out to gently touch his cheek. "I just want you to be safe, Draco. You mean the world to me."

"I know, Mom," Draco said, his heart swelling with affection. "I promise I'll be careful."

Darcia smiled, but there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. She turned back to the stove, stirring the pot of stew. "Draco, have you thought about what you want to do in the future?"

Draco felt a knot form in his stomach. This was a conversation he had been dreading. "I have, Mom. I’ve been thinking a lot about it."

Darcia nodded, her back still turned to him. "I know your father has always talked about the honor of serving in the army, but there are other paths you can take. The village could use someone with your skills. There are many peaceful ways to live a fulfilling life."

Draco knew what his mother was hinting at. She wanted him to stay in the village, to find a job that would keep him close to home and out of harm's way. He understood her concerns, but the thought of staying in Green River forever felt suffocating. He yearned for adventure, for the chance to see the world and make a name for himself.

"I know, Mom," Draco said carefully. "But I also want to see the world. I want to have adventures and make a difference. And right now, the best way for me to do that seems to be joining the army."

Darcia turned to face him, her eyes filled with a mixture of love and sorrow. "I understand your desire for adventure, Draco. But the world is a dangerous place, especially now with the war. I worry about you every day, and the thought of you being out there, in harm's way..."

"I know, Mom," Draco interrupted gently. "And I promise I'll be careful. I don't want to cause you any more worry. But I feel like this is something I need to do. To find my own path and see where it leads."

Darcia's shoulders sagged slightly, and she sighed. "I can't stop you from following your heart, Draco. I just want you to be safe and happy. Whatever you decide, know that I will always support you."

"Thank you, Mom," Draco said, feeling a wave of relief. "I promise I'll think about it carefully."

As they sat down to dinner, Draco's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. He knew his decision would shape his future, and he didn't want to disappoint his mother. But the pull of adventure and the promise of unlocking his true potential were too strong to ignore.

After dinner, Draco retreated to his room, the vial of wild boar blood still hidden safely in his bag. He knew that his journey was only beginning, and the choices he made now would define his path. The path of the dragon lay before him, filled with challenges and opportunities. And with his mother's love and support, he felt ready to face whatever the future held.

As he lay in bed, Draco's thoughts turned to his father and the legacy he had left behind. The book, the techniques, and the promise of power through cultivation were all pieces of a puzzle that Draco was determined to solve. He knew that the road ahead would be difficult, but with each step, he felt himself growing stronger and more confident.

The night passed slowly, filled with dreams of distant lands and heroic feats. When the morning sun finally broke through his window, Draco awoke with a renewed sense of purpose. Today, he would continue his training, honing his skills and preparing for the challenges that lay ahead.

With his heart set on the path of the dragon, Draco knew that his journey was just beginning. And no matter what obstacles he faced, he was determined to rise above them and forge his own destiny.