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Chapter 51: Begin

Thorne spent the next hour changing the gym to his liking. He first put the chairs away and ensured that any obstacle that could intrude on Thorne's desired training method was gone.

He also explored the different closets and supplies littered throughout the gym. There were closets with wooden poles and shields. Thorne even saw a deflated plastic ball that resembled a basketball from Earth.

After that, there wasn’t much left to do, and Thorne meditated. It wasn’t meditation in the traditional sense, where the purpose of meditation was to grow closer to oneself and find inner peace.

Instead, it was a practice used to grow closer to the world's energy.‘They said that the energy here will be really dense,’ Thorne remembered from the elder grandmaster's speech, ‘she wasn’t wrong. It feels like the energy is as dense as air.’ When the team first arrived in the world, Thorne hadn’t noticed the extreme density of energy due to the distraction of the desert.

He was too focused on making it through the unforgiving terrain. Now, though, as he sat in peace, Thorne noticed how incredible the word was in terms of energy.

Brown spectrum energy of Earth and minerals was so common that Thorne had to actively filter it out when he meditated. The amber spectrum and a fully transparent energy that Thorne assumed represented the energy of wind were also very present in the atmosphere. 'If I spend enough time, I can use this energy,' Thorne thought with a smile. The last stage that I have to reach in the novice grade is the ability to absorb and use the natural energy of the world. Only at that point can I become a grade two cultivator.'

As Thorne was meditating, he felt something strange occur in the school halls, just a little distance away from him, ‘Here they come.’

Thone sighed as he got up. He had sensed a disturbance in the natural energy; it was the newly awakened novice students.

Thorne had left one chair in the gym, and he seated himself comfortably while he waited for his class to enter; ‘It will be interesting to see if they're disrespectful to me.’ Thorne thought, smirking.

A loud creak sounded as the double doors exploded open. A horde of students piled into the gym. ‘Damn.’ Thorne waved at his nose, grimacing. ‘Teenagers are nasty as hell.’

There were dozens of kids. ‘So, mostly male, human, teenagers,’ Thorne nodded as he surveyed his new students. ‘That makes sense, ' he thought. These demographics had been well within his expectations.

The students came rampaging through the doors, their white uniformed bodies flying into the large gym. Most of them were of the amber spectrum, as the soldier had said, but for every five ambers, there was one red. ‘That’s good.’ Thorne nodded, ‘I thought there'd be fewer reds. I can make this work.

The students became encapsulated by chatter and conversation as soon as they entered. Some were laughing heartily and roughhousing with each other, while others were whispering to each other under their breaths while throwing veiled looks at Thorne.

For his part, Thorne was simply leaning against his chair, watching the circus in session. The first one to step up to Thorne was an older teenager with the amber spectrum.

He was above average in height, standing at about six feet tall. His tanned and dry complexion was just like everyone else, a consequence of the harsh desert sun. As he walked closer, Thorne noticed something interesting about the young man; ‘I wonder what happened?’ Thorne pondered as he saw a black eyepatch covering the boy’s left eye.

“Where are the chairs?” The boy demanded in a coarse voice as he reached Thorne.

Thorne squinted up at the boy; “Do you see them anywhere?” he asked calmly.

“No.” The boy responded while glaring at Thorne.

Thorne smiled, “Then they aren’t here.” He then projected his voice to reach the rest of the students and even imbued a bit of his red energy in his vocal cords as he spoke: “Everyone, seat yourself on the ground in front of me.”

The fluorescent lights hanging from the gym's roof illuminated the shock in the chattering students as they stopped their speech and looked over to where Thorne was seated.

“WHY?” The eyepatched boy shouted, veins popping up his neck, “We usually sit in the chairs. I’m not about to sit on the ground like an outskirter.”

Thorne sighed as he stared at the young man, “I don’t care about what you think.” Thorne uttered as he stood up.

He gathered energy in his hands as he looked sternly at the boy. The room was silenced entirely, and everyone watched with bated breath as they watched the situation occur. “You will do as I say...Or…” Thorne materialized a ball of pure red chaos in his hand.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Biting his lips, the boy swiveled his head back to his friends. “Fine, " he grunted out with a snarl, seating himself on the ground.

“Good,” Thorne said with a small smile as he plopped himself back in his chair. “Come on, everybody.” Thorne motioned.

With the occasional mumble and a general look of discontentment, the different students complied and followed the young man's example. They sat in two rows, all looking up at Thorne, awaiting his following words.

‘Wasn’t too difficult,’ Thorne thought with a smile.

All right, everyone.” Thorne started, looking over his group of students, “I have a few questions to ask you all before we start.”The kids looked around at each other in confusion. Some nudges and whispers floated throughout the class as they tried to understand Thorne’s intentions.

“Stand up if you can feel the energy circulating in your body.” He said, “Oh, and don’t lie.” Thorne said, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he surveyed the students.

There was silence and stillness. No one moved or spoke as they looked at Thorne. “Hmmm,” Thorne mused, scratching his chin, “so none of you can feel your energy, not even a little bit.”

An awkward lull fell over the group again as they simply looked up at Thorne unresponsively. “Well, I sort of did…once.” a boy said tentatively.

“Oh,” Thorne looked at the boy. He was the most scrawny amber cultivator he had ever seen. The boy stood only around five feet nine inches and had a body that spoke of never having worked out.

“Explain,” Thorne said with a small smile.

“Uhm, once when I was out,” The boy started, stumbling over his words just a bit, “I met a soldier who attacked me for food. I got beaten pretty bad.” He mumbled, looking down at the hardwood floor as some of the students let out quiet giggles.

“That’s fine,” Thorne said, looking at the laughing students. "Everyone gets beaten up at one point. Explain how you felt your energy, though. That’s what's important here.”

The boy looked up at Thorne; “So when I was getting…beat. I felt the energy move. It's not the best way to describe it.” The boy said with a self-deprecating smile. “But after the soldier left, the energy moved and healed my bruises and cuts.” the boy's face lit up in ecstasy, "It was...amazing. It felt like the world was finally helping and letting me off the hook."

“Thank you, " Thorne said, nodding at the boy. Standing up, Thorne pushed the chair away and pointed toward the nearest dueling square.

"That is exactly what we’ll be doing today.” He smirked, “The red... practitioners will attack the amber practitioners for the entirety of the class until you activate your energy.”

The students looked up at him. Many were gaping and staring in shock; “But isn't that dangerous?” One of them said.

“Yes,” Thorne replied with a shrug. But you're training to be combatants, no?” He looked over at the students, who nodded in reply to Thorne’s question, “You can't be combatants if you don’t know how to fight.”

He then looked at the students; “Every red practitioner, pair up with four amber practitioners.” Thorne then walked over to a locked closet in the corner of the gym.

With a clench of his fists, he shattered the lock and opened the area. Inside, various different weapons and equipment lay in dust-filled heaps. “Red practitioners grab a wooden pole. That will be your weapon. Amber practitioners do not take anything.”

The students, especially the amber practitioner, stared at him in horror. “Are we supposed to endure the attacks just like that?”

“Yes.” Thorne nodded.

“But…” the student who was about to rebuke Thorne trailed off upon seeing him lift up his hand. “I will explain,” Thorne sighed as he saw the kids' horror-struck expressions.

“To activate one’s energy, like the boy over here did,” Thorne pointed at the scrawny student who had been beaten up, “You must participate in actions congruent with your spectrum.”

Holding a wooden pole, Thorne pointed it at one of the red spectrum students; “For example, red spectrum practitioners will gain feeling of their energy from participating in acts of combat and destruction.” He then pointed the stick at an amber student; “While amber students gain feeling from enduring attacks or battling through exhaustion.

Understood?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at the students.

The mass of kids gave a few reluctant nods, and the red-spectrum students heaved themselves up to get the wooden poles.

“Don't stop unless I tell you to.” Thorne shouted as the kids hustled around the gym to different dueling rings, “For the amber students, only move on after you’ve been sufficiently beaten, or you can't take it anymore.”

Thorne looked over the students with a smile as he saw them get in the correct positions; “If this is too much, you may leave.” Thorne spoke indifferently with a shrug, “Though I will say this, if you stay in this class and follow as I say, there will be no practitioner in the city that can rival you.”

Thorne grinned wide as he held up his wooden pole; “BEGIN!”

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Closing his eyes, Aral braced himself as he saw the wooden pole fly at his chest. “ARG!” he grunted as the weapon connected. His chest—devoid of muscle despite his status as an amber practitioner—exploded in horrible pain. He lurched backward and just barely opened his eyes as he heard a whooshing noise.

CRACK!

The wooden pole’s smooth wood struck his face again! A piece of wood splintered off from the training weapon and cut into Aral’s cheek, causing droplets of blood to streak down his face.

“Do you feel it?” Aral heard. Dazed, he spun his head around and tried to get his bearings in the dizzy version of the world he had been forced to endure. It was the teacher. The body teacher who had forced Aral to do this. ‘Why is it always me.’ he thought while tears dripped down and mixed together with the blood on his face. ‘An outskirter, a stupid outskirter. I’ll never be like the practitioners. Once an outskirter, always an outskirter, I get beat by soldiers and now by students. Why!’ he despaired, his lip trembling as the pole came crackling down. The weight of heaven and earth followed it, and the wooden weapon soared right into Aral’s exposed shoulder!

“ARGH!” he grimaced in pain.

“Answer the question?” the calm voice of the teacher spoke again. “WHAT QUESTION?” Aral cried out.

Aral felt a warm hand fall on his shoulder; “Do you feel the energy.” This time, the teacher’s voice was passionate; “Amber is the lifeblood of anyone who wishes to endure. It is structured and defined. A machine of one’s own willpower.” The soothing hand squeezed into Aral’s shoulder, causing his eyes to fly open under the pain, “You must have willpower!” The man bit out, “If you want to be weak, leave! Endure the pain, embrace it, learn to use it!” The teacher shouted, his voice projecting his fiery zeal throughout the gym.

“If not…” Aral looked up and saw the dual practitioner shrug, “Then you will be forever weak and pathetic.” Aral saw the man’s figure slowly stomp away from Aral’s collapsed body. “Begin again!” he shouted.

‘Am I weak?’ Aral thought as sweat ran down his face. His tear-streaked eyes spotted another of the amber students stepping forward to replace him. “N-No.” he sputtered, crawling up to his hands and knees. “I will stay.” He gasped out while coming to a stand and wiping away the blood, sweat, and tears. He eyed the smirking red practitioner. Aral almost averted his eyes in terror but then remembered the teacher’s words. ‘I will be strong!’ he proclaimed, and he met the red practitioner’s eyes with intensity and fervor. “I will stay!”