Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

In the afternoon, in the backyard of Red Leaf Manor.

The sunlight was blocked by thick clouds, and the air was chilly.

With his upper body bare, Xilun scooped out a large dollop of the breathing technique ointment from the black ceramic jar and carefully applied it evenly to his iron-hard skin.

Since his baptism, through countless extreme trials and life-or-death struggles, his physique has become increasingly robust.

With broad shoulders and a wide back, and smooth, explosive muscle lines, he is no longer the thin man he once was, but rather a fierce physique with a strong back and a powerful build.

He had also grown taller, to about 1.85 meters, and standing there, he looked like an unshakeable iron tower.

Xilun exhaled a deep breath of hot white mist, feeling the ointment seep into his skin, bringing waves of burning stinging sensation.

He turned his head and saw the weapons rack to the side. He strode over, picked up a long spear, and held it firmly in his hand.

This is an ordinary iron spear without any extraordinary characteristics. It is extremely heavy, weighing about ten kilograms. The spear is two meters and four inches long, and the shaft has a cold, dark color. The spear tip gleams with a chilling light in the dim light of the day.

Lund, who was opposite him, had also changed into a gray and white tight-fitting training uniform. His face was terribly serious, showing none of his usual cheerful and easy-going elder demeanor.

His eyes were as sharp as a hawk's, fixed intently on Xilun.

"Starting today," Lund's voice was cold and stern, leaving no room for negotiation, "you will spend at least four hours a day here with me for basic marksmanship training."

I will hold you to the strictest, even the most brutal, standards.

You must meet my complete satisfaction for you to pass.

If you slack off even the slightest bit, I will personally break your legs.

Having said that, he noticed the iron spear that Xilun was gripping tightly in his hand, snorted coldly, and said:

"You're not qualified to hold a gun yet. Put it down."

Xilun was taken aback, but still put the iron spear back on the shelf as instructed.

"Among cold weapons, the spear is the king of all weapons, and also the most difficult long weapon to master."

Lund walked slowly in front of Xiren with his hands behind his back. "As an extension of the arms, this weapon has extremely demanding requirements on the user's body control, sense of distance, and power generation skills."

Even I, after twelve years of honing my marksmanship amidst life-or-death situations, wouldn't dare claim that my marksmanship has reached its peak.

He stopped abruptly, pointed at Xilun's legs, and said:

"To practice shooting, you must first practice your legs! Shooting technique emphasizes the unity of waist and stance."

The power does not originate from the arms, but rather from the soles of your feet. Using the reaction force of the earth, it is transmitted to the waist for twisting and amplification, and finally flows down the spine, shoulders, and arms, all the way to the tip of the spear!

Therefore, the first step in mastering the basics of marksmanship is to ensure that your legs are firmly planted.

You must ensure your feet are firmly planted in the ground, like an old tree rooted to the earth. Even if a thousand pounds of force were to strike you head-on, your body must not sway even an inch!

"Secondly, one must practice internal energy cultivation."

Lund pointed his fingers like a sword and made a light tap in the air. "You must completely merge the strength in your body with the cold gun in your hand, and condense it into an inseparable whole."

Once you've mastered this inner strength, the spear will no longer be just an iron rod, but a true extension of your arms. This will allow you to wield the spear as effortlessly as your own, with the spear tip appearing instantly at the slightest thought.

After Lund finished explaining his theory, he looked intently at Xilun and said:

"If you can train your legs to be as firm as an abyss and as immovable as a mountain, and then perfectly train that energy into your spear, then you will have passed the basic training in spearmanship."

Xilun listened intently, memorizing every word. He then asked:

"Teacher, how long would it take to practice these two fundamental skills to meet your requirements?"

Lund thought for a moment and said:

"Ordinary extraordinary individuals, without special physical constitution, would probably need to train hard for about a year."

With your superhuman physical abilities and that powerful breathing technique, you should be able to get close to the basics in about three months.

Xilun paused, his brows furrowing slightly.

Does it really take this long to practice just the tedious basic skills? He doesn't have much time left before the junior knight fighting competition.

Lund seemed to see through his thoughts and coldly rebuked him:

"Don't underestimate these basic skills! As the saying goes, one minute on stage requires ten years of practice off stage."

If you master these two fundamental skills, you will find it much easier to learn any complex marksmanship techniques in the future.

A solid foundation is invaluable in the ring or in life-or-death battles. Your resilience and endurance will be your most lethal assets. Don't try to take shortcuts!

He pondered for a moment, then his tone softened slightly:

"This afternoon, you can familiarize yourself with the training process and the way to exert force. Tomorrow will mark the official start of the hellish training."

After saying that, Lund turned around and walked to a large iron box in the corner of the yard. He took out four black iron rings with rough textures on the surface and walked back to let Xilun take them.

When Xilun reached out to take it, his hands suddenly felt heavy, and his body involuntarily leaned forward.

He was secretly alarmed: So heavy? These four seemingly small iron rings were actually quite difficult to hold.

Seeing that Xilun seemed to be struggling, Lund explained calmly:

"This is a high-density weighted ring specifically designed for first-tier extraordinary individuals when practicing those 'torture techniques' that torment the physical body."

Now put one on each of your wrists and one on each of your ankles.

"After you've put it on, take the rifle and come with me to the back of the mountain."

Xilun looked at the heavy iron ring in his hand and felt extremely strained.

He bent down and fastened two slightly larger iron rings to his ankles outside his trouser legs. With a crisp "click" as the mechanism closed, the iron rings immediately locked tightly against his skin.

Xilun frowned, and the cold and heavy feeling instantly spread up his calves.

He took a deep breath, letting his tense muscles relax slightly, and then firmly fastened the remaining two iron rings to his wrists.

Suddenly, he felt his entire body become incredibly strained, as if gravity had suddenly increased several times over.

He tried to take two steps forward, but each time he lifted his foot, it took several times more effort than usual. Although he could still walk, the sluggish feeling, as if he were sinking into mud, was extremely uncomfortable.

After dressing in this way, he walked to the weapon rack and picked up the iron spear that weighed about ten pounds again.

After putting on the weighted iron rings, the iron spear, which was not too heavy to begin with, suddenly felt quite heavy in his hand. It was very difficult to swing his wrist, and he even had to exert force to keep the spear steady.

Sylvanas managed to maintain a normal walking posture as she followed Lund out through the back door of the manor.

The view is of rolling green hills and clear waters, with the air filled with dampness and the fragrance of earth.

A river rushes down from the mountain, its waters gurgling and churning, white waves splashing as it eventually merges into a wide river in the distance.

Between the waters, there are many huge rocks that have been smoothed by years of erosion.

Lund stopped on the riverbank, glanced at Siron, his gaze lingering on his slightly trembling wrist, and asked, "How does it feel?"

Xilun weighed the bracelets and anklets in his hands, feeling the soreness and pain in his muscles, pursed his lips, and answered truthfully:

"It's a bit heavy, and it's even inconvenient to walk now, let alone fight."

Upon hearing this, Lund's lips curled into a cold smile, and he said:

"It's good that it's heavy. I was worried that it was too light and wouldn't provide you with enough pressure."

Remember, it is under immense pressure that you are forced to reach your limits.

He pointed to the iron rings on Xiren's body and said in an unquestionable tone:

"From now on, except for the few hours you sleep each night, you will have to wear these four iron rings tightly on your body all the time to get used to this weight."

You can't take it off while eating, walking, or even going to the toilet!

Furthermore, it must never be removed during marksmanship practice; otherwise, the entire day's training will be forfeited!

Having said that, he pointed to the rushing water and shouted, "Come up!"

Xilun glanced at him, and without any hesitation, took off his leather shoes and threw them on the shore.

Barefoot, I waded into the icy river water, step by step.

The water wasn't deep, just up to his calves, but the current was very rapid.

The icy water, mixed with fine sand and pebbles, slammed against Xilun's legs, making him feel a tingling, itchy sensation, while simultaneously exerting a strong force that tried to overturn him.

Lund stood on a dry rock on the shore, looking down at him, and gave the first instruction:

"Now, go upstream along the river until you reach the part of the mountain where the current is strongest."

During this time, your feet must never leave the river, and you must not step on any stones for leverage.

After saying that, Lund added, his tone even more severe:

Hold your gun with both hands and place it steadily in front of you, with the tip pointing straight ahead.

Ideally, there shouldn't be the slightest vibration; even the impact of a flowing water shouldn't cause the gun to deviate even an inch!

Xilun was taken aback. The river was so swift that just going upstream was extremely exhausting.

He also had to overcome the heavy iron rings on his ankles, and he had to hold a long spear that became extremely difficult to control after being loaded with weight, while also ensuring that the spear did not tremble even slightly. This was really asking too much of a man.

But he didn't refute it. Instead, he took a deep breath and exerted force with his legs, as if he were taking root in the mud.

He held the spear firmly with both hands and slowly tried to move upwards step by step against the enormous resistance of the water.

Because the bottom of the water was covered with moss and smooth pebbles, there was nothing to hold onto, and Siron's feet kept slipping.

As he moved, his body inevitably swayed, causing the spear in his hand to roll back and forth constantly, making it impossible for him to maintain stability.

Xilun walked with great difficulty, and fine beads of sweat quickly appeared on his forehead.

Unfortunately, the iron rings on his wrists were so heavy that every time he adjusted his posture it felt like he was lifting a boulder, and the ankle rings made every step he took a painful, tearing pain in his muscles.

He gritted his teeth and began to activate the "Great Sea Whale Guiding Technique" within his body, using the surge of qi and blood to relieve muscle fatigue.

With a series of booming sounds like ocean waves emanating from within his body, his steps gradually steadied.

And so, through countless near falls and struggles to regain his balance, he walked until he reached the bend in the mountainside where the water flow was most turbulent, before finally stopping.

At that moment, a huge torrent of water roared past his feet, the force of which almost broke his calves.

Even when I tried my best to stand firm, it was very inconvenient, and my body swayed slightly in the water.

At that moment, Lund spoke up, his voice cutting through the roar of the water:

"Now, hold the gun properly! No matter how sore and trembling your arm is, you must not let the gun fall into the water."

At the same time, dig your feet firmly into the mud and sand of the riverbed, so that no matter how swift the current, your body won't sway even slightly!

Xilun pursed his lips tightly, tasting a hint of blood.

He frantically activated the Great Ocean Whale Guiding Technique, feeling the power coursing through his meridians.

Gradually, a strong tingling and numb sensation came from his arms and legs. The iron spear in his palm was like a disobedient loach, shaking back and forth, showing no sign of settling down.

Moreover, with heavy iron rings hanging from his hands, maintaining this stiff posture while holding the gun was extremely strenuous.

He gritted his teeth, his cheeks puffed out, and began to try to channel the violent energy within him, little by little, into the cold barrel of the gun through his palm.

According to the teacher, one must cultivate one's inner energy into the spear so that one can wield it as easily as one's own arm.

He tried to channel his strength into the gun, but this strength was his own violent power, falling haphazardly onto the fragile barrel, only producing a teeth-grinding creaking sound, as if it would break the gun in the next second.

How can we twist this dispersed force into a single rope and evenly wrap it around the gun barrel?

He endured the physical torment while deep in thought.

As time went on, the muscle soreness increased exponentially, as if countless ants were gnawing at his bone marrow.

Lund sat upright on a flat rock on the shore, his eyes closed, seemingly practicing his own mysterious breathing technique, the rise and fall of his chest faintly accompanied by the sound of wind and thunder.

But Xilun always felt that there was a sharp, knife-like gaze watching him intently, even through his eyelids, and that if he relaxed even slightly, he would be met with a torrential downpour of punishment.

He showed no sign of slackening; his eyes held only a chilling stillness and unwavering determination.

After an unknown amount of time, his internal strength was exhausted several times over due to this extreme consumption.

Each time he was exhausted, he would rely on his extremely strong willpower to greedily breathe in and out little by little from the surrounding air and the cold water, and then pour it back into his arms.

Only when darkness had completely fallen and the river had turned as black and cold as ink did he hear Lund's emotionless voice:

"Today ends here. Tomorrow, continue to train your waist and legs for stability by standing by the stream on this mountainside; use iron rings to support your spear and train your precise control over your strength."

"When you can perfectly envelop the gun with your qi, so that it doesn't tremble even slightly in your hand, and your legs remain as still as rocks despite the rushing river, and your mind is as calm as still water, then you've truly mastered the basics."

Xilun nodded slightly, without saying a word.

He dragged his leaden legs out of the icy water, his whole body steaming with heat.

He moved his muscles, which were so sore they were almost numb, and walked to the shore, about to reach out to untie the iron ring on his ankle.

When his hand touched the cold mechanism, he paused, thought for a moment, then withdrew his hand and thought, "Never mind."

He pulled down his trousers, concealing the iron ring beneath his clothes, and, carrying the heavy iron spear, limped after Lund, heading towards Red Leaf Manor.

He planned to get used to the terrifying weight of the iron rings in his normal life from now on, whether it was eating, sleeping or traveling.

Only by making this sense of oppression a part of his body can he unleash truly deadly power the moment he is relieved of the burden.