Chapter 616: Path of A Knight

When they were all done, Thoren returned the Thousand Soul Registry to his inventory and brought out three ancient scrolls.

As for all the two hundred men signing the contract, it was not surprising. Only a fool in this chaotic time would not sign the soul contract.

Many awakener families even did worse to their people. Just for a chance to grow stronger and improve their strength for a chance of survival. Many awakener families and many organizations did many inhuman experiments.

Some families forced people into their experiment while others enticed the ordinary people with reward and better lives. Even if people knew the awakener families were lying, their choice of survival was limited.

Many for the sake of their family would join the experiment just for the chance to live a better life and a bright future. And looking at the Starfall family did not ask to undergo any dangerous experiment.

How could they hesitate?

Thoren eyes moved across the faces of the two hundred men and saw the curiosity in their eyes before his eyes fell back on the three scrolls.

These were scrolls he had obtained from the Abyssal Market.

After studying the Abyssal Market for a long time, he had come to a conclusion. The Abyss might be terrifying, a world destroyer that had swallowed thousands of worlds.

Yet, the Abyss provided each world a chance to survive and grow stronger.

Only that this chance was difficult to achieve.

But with him opening the Abyssal Market, he had received that chance.

And since that time, his path would be different from those who did not open the Abyssal Market.

This was what gave him the confidence to strengthen his family beyond what ordinary humans could comprehend.

He held the three scrolls up. Each one radiated a different aura. The first pulsed with a deep crimson light, warm and steady.

The second shimmered with a cool silver glow, sharp and precise.

The third was darker, a violet hue that seemed to swallow the light around it.

"These are cultivation techniques," Thoren said. "Not the diluted potions you have been using. Not the temporary boosts that fade with time. These are true techniques. They will reshape your bodies. Strengthen your cores. Push you beyond human limits."

The men stared at the scrolls with wide eyes. Even the commander, who had seemed unshakeable, took a half step forward.

His scarred face went pale.

His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again.

No sound came out.

He had watched ordinary men push their bodies to the limit and beyond. He knew exactly what the ceiling was for someone without awakening their profession.

And now Thoren was telling them that the ceiling no longer existed.

The two hundred men stood frozen in their formations. Some forgot to breathe. Others swayed on their feet as though the ground had shifted beneath them.

A few exchanged quick, disbelieving glances, searching for confirmation that they had heard correctly.

Every hunter in the world knew the gap. An awakener could crush a hundred hunters without breaking a sweat.

The difference was not one of degree but of kind. It was the difference between a candle and the sun.

Everyone in the Federation had accepted this truth long ago. Ordinary people had made peace with being useful but ultimately expendable.

They had accepted that their lives were worth less than those of the awakened.

And now Thoren was telling them that, that might not be so. That they might become something more. Something important.

Not an expendable piece of trash.

Just the thought made their heart pound heavily against their ribs as if it was going to burst.

Ardyn also felt his heart slam against his ribs.

His breath quickened, and for a moment the world tilted. He had known his son wanted to create something powerful.

He had supported the private military because he understood the need for security, for loyal men in these chaotic times.

But this?

Cultivation techniques.

True cultivation techniques.

Not diluted potions.

Not temporary enhancements.

The kind of power that entire families and guilds had gone to war over. The kind of power that was supposedly impossible for ordinary humans to possess.

His mind raced.

How did Thoren have a cultivation technique?

Where did he get it?

Why had he not told him before?

The questions piled up, each one heavier than the last. He wanted to grab his son by the shoulders and demand answers.

He wanted to understand.

He forced himself to breathe. Slow but steady. He swallowed the storm of thoughts and locked them away for later.

As for Thoren, he was not bothered by his father’s reaction. His gaze remained fixed on the men.

"Three techniques, three different paths," he continued, his voice calm and clear. "Many of you thought becoming a hunter was already glorious. But let me tell you. It is nothing. You are nothing but bigger ants."

The words landed like hammer blows but no one argued as they could not.

"But now, what you will become after practicing these techniques would give you a chance to face an awakener."

Boom.

The word echoed like a deafening thunder.

The commander took an involuntary step back, his weathered face slack with disbelief. His hand rose to his chest, pressing against his heart as though to keep it from bursting.

The two hundred men broke formation without meaning to. Some stumbled backward. Others dropped to their knees. The weight of the revelation was too much.

However, Thoren was far from finished. He did not give them a chance to recover from their shock. He continued with the same calmness from the beginning.

"Hunters are for the weak. But now, I am going to make you a Knight."

The word landed like a thunderclap.

"Right now, your current strength is nothing but a Third Level Apprentice. Far from a real knight."

The crowd went utterly silent.

Knights.

The word felt foreign to their ears, like something pulled from the pages of the old stories tales of brave warriors and noble champions that mothers read to their children before bed.

Knights were legends.

Myths.

Figures from a time before the Abyss, before awakeners, before the world turned cruel.

And now Thoren was telling them they could become one.

"As long as you keep practicing the technique, if not all of you, most of you will likely become a knight," Thoren continued.

"The first scroll is the Wolf-Howl Breathing Art. The second is the Bear Mountain Crushing Technique. And finally, the third is the Raven-Shadow Death Method."

He paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink into their minds.

The men stood frozen.

Their eyes were wide, their mouths slightly open. Some trembled. Others clutched their chests or their heads, as though trying to hold themselves together.

Ardyn was no different. His thoughts had spiraled beyond coherence. He simply stared at his son, seeing him for the first time as something more than the boy he had raised.

Thoren continued.

"Those who practice the Wolf-Howl Breathing Art will become vanguard. You will be the first to charge, the last to retreat. Your bodies will become weapons. Your lungs will carry the fury of the pack."

The Wolf-Howl Breathing Art was the first of the three paths.

It was a technique designed for those who would stand at the front, who would meet the enemy head-on and refuse to yield.

The breathing pattern mimicked the rhythm of a hunting wolf; deep, controlled inhales followed by sharp, explosive exhales.

Each cycle tempered the body, expanding the lungs and strengthening the heart until the practitioner could push beyond ordinary limits.

Those who walked this path would gain the ferocity of a wolf. Their movements would become swift and predatory, their instincts sharpened to a razor’s edge.

But the true gift of the Wolf-Howl Breathing Art lay in the wind itself.

As the practitioner advanced, the breathing technique would gradually align their internal energy with the wind element.

"The Bear Mountain Crushing Technique is for strength and power. You will break through walls. You will crush armor. You will stand where others fall."

The Bear Mountain Crushing Technique was the second path.

It was a technique forged for those who would become the anvil upon which enemies broke. The breathing pattern was slow and deep, each inhale drawing power from the earth beneath their feet.

Those who walked this path would gain the ferocity of a bear. Not the swift, predatory cunning of the wolf, but something older and more primal.

They would learn to absorb pain and keep advancing. They would learn to break through shields, to shatter walls, to crush armor beneath their fists. Their presence on the battlefield would be a statement.

"And the Raven-Shadow Death Method will create assassins. You will move unseen. You will strike without warning. You will be the shadow that swallows your enemies whole."

Listening to the three different paths, everyone inside the training ground felt their hearts rise into their throats.

They were not merely going to have a chance to become a Knight.

They were going to become specialized Knights.

The thought alone made their blood boil. Their hands clenched into fists. Their backs straightened.

The fear and disbelief in their eyes began to burn away, replaced by something fiercer.