Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

Lund did not comment on Sarah's words. His gaze remained fixed on Siron's face, as if he were weighing something.

"This Balk," Lund said slowly, "I remember him as a senior second-tier extraordinary being."

His tone didn't convey any dissuasion; he was simply stating the facts.

You must be careful.

Xilun nodded slightly.

"I won't take any action unless I'm absolutely certain," he said. "At the very least, I'll investigate thoroughly first."

These words were spoken with composure, lacking the impulsiveness and eagerness often seen in young people.

Lund listened with some relief. His biggest worry wasn't that Xiren wasn't strong enough, but that hatred was clouding his judgment—an extraordinary being driven by rage often dies faster than an ordinary person.

But Celen is clearly not that kind of person.

His anger was cold.

"Anything else?" Lund asked.

Xilun remained silent for a few moments.

Outside the training shed, the sea breeze rustled through the branches of the old elm tree.

The distant sea shimmered like scattered silver in the sunlight, looking calm and beautiful—completely unlike the black abyss that had swallowed everything just a few days ago.

"Because of many conflicts," Siren began again, "I have a grudge against a certain baronial family."

He didn't give specific names, but Lund and Sarah were both intelligent and didn't need any further hints.

"Although neither of us may dare to harm the other further, we never know what might happen."

Xilun held the wooden gun horizontally in front of him, shifting his gaze from the gun to the sunlit courtyard outside the training shed.

"I wish to have the power of complete freedom."

His voice wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally clear.

"No one can hurt me anymore."

After those words were spoken, the training shed remained silent for a long time.

Lund gazed at his disciple.

The poor kid who was struggling at the bottom of the North District a year ago now stands in front of him, broad-shouldered and exuding a calm aura that comes from being tempered by countless trials.

His eyes were calm, without resentment or hostility, only a cold-blooded clarity.

He knows what he wants.

He knows what he lacks.

He knew how to get it.

Lund suddenly remembered himself ten years ago—the boy who was shoved into the patrol car by his father in a downpour and could only watch helplessly as his father took up a knife and went to his death.

If only I had that strength, that clarity of mind back then...

He snapped out of his thoughts, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"Have you explained it clearly?"

Xilun nodded.

"Then let's start practicing shooting."

Lund took a wooden gun from the gun rack with his right hand, gripped the middle of the gun with one hand, the tip pointing downwards, his posture casual yet subtly disciplined.

He walked to the open space in the center of the training shed and stood facing Xilun.

"I've been watching your Natan heavy gun skills these past few days."

Lund said, "My fundamentals are solid, my power trajectory is clear, and my breath control is becoming more and more coordinated with the gun. All I'm missing is the final layer of understanding."

Xilun pricked up his ears.

"The difference between master and expert level is not in the amount of strength or speed," Lund slowly raised the wooden spear, the tip pointing forward, "but in 'intention'."

"meaning?"

"Gun intent." Lund's gaze sharpened. "Expert-level marksmanship involves the body moving, with the gun following. Master-level marksmanship involves the intent moving, with both the body and the gun following the intent."

He suddenly drew his gun.

Without any warning, without any charging motion, and without even any obvious body movement—the tip of the spear simply "appeared" three inches in front of Xilun.

Incredibly fast.

But Xilun's reverberation chamber captured that instantaneous change in sound waves—the air was compressed and torn apart by the gun tip, and then tiny vortices formed on both sides of the gun body.

The whole process was clean and efficient, without a single unnecessary vibration.

"See?" Lund holstered his gun. "I didn't use much force just now."

Xilun frowned.

He did see it—or rather, "heard" it. The sound waves generated by Lund's muscle contraction during the firing of his gun were extremely weak, far less loud than when Siron thrust his gun with all his might.

However, the speed at which the spear tip reached the target was more than twice as fast as that of Xilun.

"It's not about power driving the gun," Lund said. "It's about intention driving the breath, the breath driving the body, and the body driving the gun. Only when all four are in harmony can one be a master."

He handed the wooden gun to Xilun.

"Your problem now is that your strength is too great, which has become a constraint. Your physical fitness far exceeds that of others of the same level, and you habitually rely on brute force when drawing your gun, which causes a slight disconnect between your breath and the gun itself."

Xilun took the wooden gun and lowered his head in deep thought.

Lund is right.

During this period, he has been pursuing faster, heavier, and more powerful shooting effects, but he has neglected the aspect of "gun intent".

Just like a blacksmith with immense strength who can smash iron to pieces, but may not be able to forge a fine dagger.

"For the next two weeks," Lund said, sitting down on a bench by the shed, "when you practice shooting, reduce your strength to 30% of your usual level. Don't aim for speed or power; just ensure that with each shot, your intention, energy, body, and gun are completely synchronized."

"Thirty percent?"

"Thirty percent." Lund nodded firmly. "Once you can achieve unity of all four elements at thirty percent power, gradually increase the power. When you can maintain this state even when firing at full power... that's a master."

Xilun gripped the wooden gun tightly and took a deep breath.

He assumed a starting stance, deliberately suppressing the surging blood and qi within his body, and controlling his strength to about 30% of his usual level.

Then draw your gun.

The spear tip thrust out, much slower and with less force than usual.

But Xilun focused all his attention on "intention"—he imagined his intention as a line, starting from the center of his forehead, passing through his shoulders, arms, and palms, and finally reaching the tip of the spear.

A complete, uninterrupted line.

The first shot broke the cord at the shoulder.

The second shot extended the line to the elbow, then broke apart.

The third shot barely reached the palm of my hand, but disappeared off the gun.

Xilun frowned, put away his gun, and went again.

Lund leaned back on the bench, his right hand resting on his knee, watching quietly.

Sarah observed for a moment, then whispered, "I'm leaving."

Lund nodded without turning around.

Sarah took one last look at the young man in the training shed who kept firing and failing, yet showed no signs of impatience. A slight smile played on her lips as she turned and left the manor.

For the entire morning, Xilun used only 30% of his strength to repeatedly practice the four basic forms of Natan Heavy Gun Technique.

Thrust, pick, sweep, smash.

Each movement was as slow as walking on water, and the force was as light as caressing the air.

But his brow remained furrowed, his mind highly focused, trying to let his "intention" permeate every shot.

Lund sat on the bench, occasionally offering a word or two of guidance.

"Relax your shoulders; your trapezius muscles are too tight, and you're not breathing properly."

"Don't consciously control your wrist; let it rotate naturally with the gun."

"Yes, that's the feeling—one more time."

By noon, when Saiwei brought lunch into the training shed, Xiren was soaked in sweat, not from exertion, but from the sweating caused by intense mental tension.

"Let's eat first." Lund stood up and stretched his stiff right leg.

The three of them had a simple lunch at the stone table next to the training shed.

Savi prepared easily digestible broth and soft bread, clearly taking Lund's physical condition into account.

During the meal, Lund kept observing Xiren's condition.

This young man's recovery ability is truly amazing—he recovered most of his energy from the intense mental exertion of the morning in just the time it takes to eat a meal.

His eyes regained their clarity, his breathing became steady and powerful, and the flow of energy within his body returned to its normal rhythm.

"This afternoon," Lund put down his soup bowl, wiped his mouth with a napkin, "I'll show you something."

Xilun looked up.

Lund stood up and walked to the center of the training shed.

With his right hand, he took the last intact wooden gun from the rack—this one was slightly longer and thicker than the others, made of old oak, and its surface was polished extremely smooth.

Lund stood in the center of the open space, holding a gun in one hand, facing West Lund.

"The Red Star Spear," he said.

Xilun's eyes narrowed slightly.

This was the same marksmanship Lund used in the old grotto at Seven Piers—that night, even though he was seriously injured and his spirit was corrupted, Lund still used this marksmanship to confront that terrifying divine remains head-on.

Xilun had witnessed the power of that shot firsthand; crimson light condensed at the tip of the spear, like a falling star, piercing through the black water and the tide of resentment, and striking straight at the core of the monster.

That was the most beautiful shot he had ever seen, and also the most terrifying.

"As I said before, the core of this marksmanship lies in compressing all your energy, muscle power, and killing intent into a single point for release."

Lund slowly raised the wooden gun, the tip pointing forward. "It has extremely strong penetrating power, but it also puts a great strain on the body."

He took a deep breath.

At that moment, Xilun's echo chamber detected an extremely subtle change—the breath within Lund's body began to circulate in an unusual way.

It doesn't spread throughout the body like the Great Thunder Sound Breathing Method, nor does it travel along the meridians like the Profound Yin Breathing Method; instead, it... contracts.

All the energy was converging towards a single point.

That spot was in the palm of Lund's right hand, where he was holding the gun.

"Watch closely."

Lund drew his gun.

This time, Xilun saw the whole process clearly.

First, the feet—Lund's right foot moved slightly forward half an inch, his toes gripping the ground, and the power transferred from the ground to his calf.

Then there's the waist—the waist muscles act like a tightly wound spring, catching, rotating, amplifying, and transmitting the power from the lower limbs to the upper body.

Next comes the shoulder—the shoulder blades suddenly retract, combining the power from the waist with the explosive force from the upper body and channeling it into the arm.

Finally, there's the gun—all the power, energy, and intention converge, compress, and release at the tip of the gun.

The whole process was incredibly fast; from the start to the spear tip thrusting out, it was only a blink of an eye.

But thanks to his reverberation, Xilun could "hear" every single step clearly.

The moment the spear tip pierced through the air, an extremely sharp tearing sound rang out. It was not an ordinary sound of air being torn apart, but the sound of air being compressed to an extreme and then exploding.

A faint, dark red light gleamed from the tip of the wooden spear.

The light was fleeting, but Siren saw it.

"..."

His pupils contracted slightly.

Even though Lund is now seriously injured and only uses his right hand, his strength is probably less than 20% of what it was at its peak—but the sheer force of this one shot was enough to make Xilun feel an almost instinctive sense of danger.

If this shot was fired with full force...

"The principle behind the Crimson Star Spear is very simple," Lund said, sheathing the spear and turning to face Xiren. "It's all about 'compression.' Compress everything into a single point, then release it. Power, aura, will, killing intent—everything."

He walked up to Xilun and drew a circle on the ground with the tip of his spear.

"In ordinary marksmanship, the power is dispersed."

He drew many lines radiating outward from inside the circle. "Even in master-level Natan heavy gunnery, the power is evenly distributed along the gun. The advantage of this is stability and endurance, making it suitable for long-term combat."

Then he placed a dot in the center of the circle.

"The Crimson Star Spear concentrates all its power into this one point."

He looked up at Xilun, "The advantage is its extremely strong penetrating power; even an opponent a whole level higher than you might not be able to withstand a single blow. The disadvantage is—"

"It puts a tremendous strain on the body," Siren interjected.

"Yes." Lund nodded. "Usually, a third-tier body is needed to withstand this level of compression. If a second-tier extraordinary person tries to force it, at best their muscles will tear, and at worst their meridians will rupture."

He looked at Xilun with a scrutinizing gaze.

"But you are different."

Xilun raised an eyebrow.

"Your aura density far surpasses that of others of the same level."

Lund said, "The Great Thunder Breathing Technique has given you an extremely strong foundation in internal vibration, while the Profound Yin Breathing Technique has made your aura calm and refined. With the two combined, the concentration of aura within your body is probably approaching the level of an ordinary third-tier cultivator. In addition, the Bone Forging Iron Armor Ascetic Training Technique strengthens your physical body..."

He paused.

"Your body can barely withstand the basics of the Crimson Star Spear."

A glint flashed in Xilun's eyes.

"However—" Lund held up a finger, "before learning the Crimson Star Spear, you must first master the Natan Heavy Gun Technique."

Why?

"Because the 'compression' of the Crimson Star Spear is based on absolute control over one's own power."

Lund's tone turned serious. "If you can't even perfectly control your own power, and you try to compress it, there's only one outcome—loss of control."

He pointed to the wooden gun in Xilun's hand.

"Natan's heavy gun technique is a fundamental skill. It is a fundamental skill that integrates gun, body, and spirit."

Once you've mastered it to a master level, it means you've reached the pinnacle of control over your own power. Only on that foundation should you learn compression – that's the right path.

Xilun paused for a moment, then nodded.

"I see."

"Alright." Lund put the wooden gun back on the rack. "Next, I'll demonstrate the basics of the Crimson Star Gun—'Focus Point'."

He stood back in the center of the open space, this time without a gun.

“Focusing doesn’t require a gun,” Lund said. “It’s a way of circulating energy. You need to learn to concentrate all the energy in your body into a single point in a very short time.”

He extended his right hand, palm facing up.

"For example—the palm of your hand."

Siren stared at Lund's right palm.

At first nothing happened, but after a few breaths, his echo chamber picked up an extremely subtle change.

The energy within Lund's body began to flow, converging from his limbs and bones towards his palm.

The feeling was like countless tiny streams flowing from different directions to the same low-lying area.

Lund's palms were slightly red.

It wasn't a blood-red color, but a deeper, almost dark gold red.

"This is the focal point." Lund withdrew his hand, the red in his palm quickly fading. "Condense your energy to a single point, and then maintain it. The longer you maintain it, the higher the density of the compression, and the stronger the penetrating power when it is finally released."