Chapter Seventeen: Hogwarts Academy?

Whether one pursues martial arts or the Way of Heaven, in the initial stages, the ability to generate internal energy—if paired with the right cultivation method, an innate talent suitable for the path, profound cultivation, and exceptional comprehension—may allow one to open all the meridians throughout the body, especially the Ren and Du channels. This would give rise to true qi, marking the formal entry into the ranks of cultivators. As the true qi within gradually condenses, one transitions from the stage of Qi Refining to Foundation Establishment, where true qi becomes elemental energy, and from Foundation Establishment to the Golden Core stage, where it becomes true essence, then to the Nascent Soul stage where it evolves into vital breath, and finally steps into the realm of Great Perfection.

This journey is extraordinarily arduous. Extraordinary talent, the guidance of a brilliant teacher, fortunate encounters, and above all, the cultivator’s own unyielding will—lacking any one of these, there is not the slightest chance of success. Since ancient times, let alone in this era of dwindling spiritual energy where cultivators have become rare and withered, even in the heyday of cultivation, countless so-called prodigies of peerless brilliance found themselves stuck at the threshold of Qi Refining, unable to advance a single step for life!

The best sign of stepping into the threshold of Qi Refining is true qi projecting beyond the body!

Although Lei Dong could tell that Wu Yun clearly had no idea how to control his true qi—probably having stumbled into this breakthrough unintentionally while practicing Tai Chi, and not fully understanding what had happened—the spiritual energy swirling around him, the true qi surging forth from his body all attested unmistakably that he had indeed stepped into the realm of cultivation.

On this point, there could be no doubt.

Ever since Lei Dong had succeeded in cultivation, perhaps out of a desire to have a fellow cultivator to share his secret and ease his loneliness, or from the innate joy of discovering a “kindred spirit,” or perhaps simply out of some mischievous curiosity, or even the faint call of an inner longing, he had, over a long period, taken every opportunity to give each person he came into contact with a thorough “examination.” With his late Golden Core cultivation, though he could not yet use divine sense to observe the meridians within another’s body directly, as long as he touched a person’s acupoint and circulated his true essence, no secret of the body could escape his perception.

But in all these years, from his parents down to the friends he had grown up with, everyone had, without knowing, been subject to Lei Dong’s “intimate contact,” and every time, the result was the same disappointment: aside from himself, it seemed there was not a single person in the world with even the slightest aptitude for cultivation.

Although Lei Dong felt a touch of disappointment, he was not particularly surprised—after all, in any era, those with the gift for cultivation have always been a rare minority. But now, on the very first day after entering the Recon Academy, he had discovered that someone here had, without realizing it, already crossed the threshold into the world of cultivation!

“Could there be more surprises?” Lei Dong’s gaze swept over Wu Yun on the stage, over Duty Officer Luo Haoran, and over the more than twenty men standing rigidly at attention below the dais, wide-eyed and awestruck by the force Wu Yun exuded. Lei Dong stood silent, lost in thought.

For over an hour, this question turned again and again in Lei Dong’s mind, to the point that he hardly noticed as all the “veterans” took their turns on stage demonstrating their ferocious, lethal combat skills and deafening gunfire. None of it could distract him in the least.

Not until Lei Tiangang, dazed and distracted, announced the end of the welcome ceremony and ordered the squads to return, did Lei Dong finally make up his mind, deciding to take an action that would be considered taboo in any unit and by any commander: to report a matter over his superior’s head!

“What? Are you serious?” In the spacious office hung with all manner of maps, Lei Tiangang stared in disbelief at his son standing straight before him, his deep voice trembling ever so slightly—something rare for a man usually proud of his composure.

As the commander of the Republic’s most elite special operations force, he knew full well what it would mean for the entire unit, the whole academy, and even the country, if it were truly possible to organize a team composed entirely of cultivators!

Of course, that depended on Lei Dong actually being able to find enough candidates among these thirty men.

Looking at his son’s eager face, Lei Tiangang no longer hesitated, nodding firmly. “Very well, do as you say!”

That afternoon, the Recon Academy and Dragon Fury Unit suddenly conducted the most bizarre physical examination since their founding.

There was no infirmary reeking of medicine, no array of instruments, not even the curious doctors and nurses. Each cadet called into the small, makeshift examination room faced only an ordinary table, a white cloth hung over it, and a slender, fair hand with a mysterious sheen extending from behind the cloth—the owner unknown.

According to the prior notice, every cadet had only to bare their arm and let that hand rest gently on their pulse. The whole process took less than a minute.

They entered the room puzzled and left even more so, unaware that within this single minute, their fates had taken a strange, profound turn.

The next morning, Lei Tiangang issued the order to reorganize the third squad of the Dragon Fury Unit, a smaller team with only seven members. Besides Lei Dong, the new recruit, some members from the first and second squads were reassigned, while former members of the third squad were redistributed.

On the order for appointments, it was written: Squad Leader: Huang Xiwen. Hand-to-hand Combat Instructor: Lei Dong.

The announcement caused a sensation.

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“Is this the Recon Academy, or is it bloody Hogwarts?” As Lei Tiangang’s orders came down, Lei Dong looked at the roster for the third squad and couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

Wu Yun, 25, early stage of Qi Refining, skilled in ancient Tai Chi, specializes in battlefield assault.

Huang Xiwen, 29, skilled in martial arts and combat command, specializes in battlefield assault.

Song Jingang, 27, skilled in weapon manufacture, specializes in fire support.

Luo Haoran, 27, skilled in intelligence analysis, specializes in explosive devices.

Lang Tianyu, 29, skilled in stealth and concealment, specializes in sniper tactics.

These men, aside from Wu Yun, had no foundation in cultivation, not even the slightest exposure to cultivation techniques, yet in fact, every one of them possessed exceptionally strong and resilient meridians and acute sensitivity to spiritual energy—a prodigy for cultivation!

Damn, what a windfall! Lei Dong couldn’t keep the smile off his face. And when he saw the last name, his jaw dropped.

“Bei Shiliang, 27, skilled in calculations, specializes in battlefield communications and demolitions, skilled in electronic warfare.” Nothing special there. But then, a note: “Hobbies: vocal music, the arts!”

Seriously? There’s an artsy type here? Lei Dong stared for a long moment before coming to his senses.

But soon, another fact struck him with greater force: out of only twenty-nine people in the Recon Academy, six possessed the gift for cultivation—a ratio of twenty percent! It was impossible not to marvel that this academy truly was the home of the Republic’s elite forces. Even more intriguing, this squad—smaller than a standard ten-man team—was fully equipped with an assault trooper, sniper, machine-gunner, and demolitions expert, with no need to reassign anyone’s primary combat role. Was this mere coincidence, or the workings of fate?

Most importantly, in this era of dwindling spiritual energy, to find so many fit for cultivation was nothing short of miraculous!

However, Lei Dong’s satisfaction evaporated as soon as squad training began after breakfast that day.

Recon Academy’s training, though similar to other special forces units Lei Dong had experienced, was even more varied and audacious. Mornings began with grueling physical conditioning, designed to push every cadet’s mental and physical limits. After breakfast came combat skills training, followed by specialized technical training and academic courses in the afternoon.

Among the core skills, hand-to-hand combat training occupied the first hour each morning.

As soon as Lei Dong entered the combat training room—lined with equipment and dominated by a large boxing ring at its center—he sensed something odd about the atmosphere. Wu Yun was winking at him; Lang Tianyu and Bei Shiliang could not hide their astonishment; squad leader Huang Xiwen appeared calm, but Song Jingang and Luo Haoran regarded Lei Dong with a touch of hostility.

During selection, under Zhang He’s relentless pressure, Lei Dong had read several psychology books. A single glance told him what these guys were thinking.

Huang Xiwen, as squad leader, could not openly reject him. Song Jingang, Luo Haoran, Lang Tianyu, and Bei Shiliang, however, were deeply suspicious: how could a rookie, freshly assigned to Dragon Fury and still a private, become a squad’s hand-to-hand combat instructor?

After all, Wu Yun had served as the unit’s combat instructor for years, the undisputed champion whom everyone admired. Now, with the sudden creation of the third squad and Wu Yun’s relentless “train-till-you-drop” style still fresh in their minds, this new kid was suddenly to be the instructor? What was going on?

Yet, as seasoned members of both the academy and Dragon Fury, they were certain that Lei Tiangang—the commander they respected most and known for his fairness—would never play favorites. Which meant this kid must actually have some real ability?

But was he even twenty? Did he have any hair on his chest yet?

Suspicion, resentment, inner conflict—all these emotions made the atmosphere tense and uncomfortable.

Only Wu Yun’s attitude seemed out of place. This matter directly involved him—the academy’s top combat instructor—yet he looked utterly unconcerned, even winking at Lei Dong. Was there some conspiracy? Or had he sensed something?

Truth be told, when Lei Dong learned he was to be appointed instructor, he too was puzzled—why would a cadet become a teacher? Only after asking Lei Tiangang did he learn that in Dragon Fury, all training—physical, combat, tactical, and technical—was conducted not only by instructors but also by cadets themselves, who took turns as teaching assistants.

Academic subjects like culture, psychology, and mechanical engineering were taught by special guests—leading experts or people with unique backgrounds—who were not part of the academy’s regular staff and might not even know whom they were teaching.

Still, such a sudden appointment put Lei Dong in a tough spot. Seeing Song Jingang and Luo Haoran’s disgruntled looks, he sighed inwardly: his old man sure knew how to make things difficult! There was only one solution—he’d have to establish his authority as quickly as possible. But how? Like that fat guy in the novels—kick down a tree, bend a steel railing with one leg? Glancing at the punching bags, barbells, and iron-clad wooden dummies, Lei Dong sighed—they were all public property; he’d have to pay for any damage!

“I know some of you find it odd for me to be your combat instructor, and some aren’t convinced,” Lei Dong thought it best to win over these straightforward soldiers first. In a unit where strength was everything, only blunt honesty worked; ultimately, respect came from ability. So he got straight to the point: “Some of you might be wondering if I’m up to it, or if I’m even old enough yet.”

His frankness had the desired effect—Song Jingang and Luo Haoran’s expressions eased somewhat. But Lei Dong’s next words reignited their anger.

“Enough talk. Let our fists decide.” Lei Dong curled his lip, pointing to the ring. “You’re all elite troops of the Republic. Who wants to spar with me? I’ll show you that not only am I old enough—I’m in my prime!”

With an air of slight disdain, Lei Dong completely infuriated Song Jingang and Luo Haoran. Song Jingang strode forward, leapt onto the ring, and shouted, “I’ll go!”

Without another word, Lei Dong climbed into the ring, casually taking his place and smiling, “Come on, then.”

Lei Dong’s easy manner annoyed Song Jingang even more. Seeing Lei Dong so nonchalant, he fumed, “This guy’s way too cocky.”

But Song Jingang quickly realized this might be a ploy to provoke him into making a mistake. Evidently, this kid wasn’t entirely clueless. Suppressing his anger, Song Jingang took a deep breath, left fist guarding his head, right fist forward in a boxing stance, eyes locked on Lei Dong as he circled closer.

In contrast to Song Jingang’s caution, Lei Dong was utterly at ease, standing relaxed, right hand behind his back, left index finger curling playfully. “No need to be so polite—let’s get on with it. I’m in a hurry for the next match!”

For some reason, seeing Lei Dong’s relaxed demeanor only made Song Jingang angrier. Noticing Lei Dong standing open, leaving his center exposed, Song Jingang slid in with lightning speed, sending a right straight punch hurtling toward Lei Dong’s face.

“Impressive!” Lang Tianyu and Bei Shiliang exclaimed almost in unison. The punch was flawless in speed, power, coordination, timing—and, more importantly, it even carried a trace of killing intent! The kind of murderous aura only a veteran of countless battles could possess—unseen but unstoppable, chilling to the bone.

Lang Tianyu thought, if it were him in Lei Dong’s place, beyond dodging and seeking an opening, there’d be no other option.

Luo Haoran’s eyes widened, waiting to see this cocky rookie laid low by the blow.

Even Huang Xiwen smiled with satisfaction and nodded: the hard training lately hadn’t been wasted!

But in the next instant, a light “pop” sounded, followed by a heavy thud. “Damn!” Song Jingang howled in pain!

Those watching—Huang Xiwen, Wu Yun, and the others—barely saw what happened. One moment, Song Jingang was attacking; the next, he cried out in pain, flying more than five meters before crashing into a corner of the ring, unable to rise.

Lying on the floor, Song Jingang’s head spun. Lei Dong’s light strike had been terrifyingly powerful; he had to lie there for a long while before the nausea in his chest and the dizziness in his head subsided enough for him to recall what had happened.

A moment ago, driven by anger, he had struck with all his might, feeling his power, speed, and momentum exceed all previous limits. Combined with his own charge, this blow approached the “unified force” Wu Yun had once taught him. Fueled by confidence and momentum, he believed he could floor even a bull, let alone a man!

He watched his punch—fast as lightning—slam toward Lei Dong’s face, so hard the wind seemed to wrinkle Lei Dong’s skin, and yet Lei Dong did not move.

“Frightened stiff? Even if you have some skill, without real combat experience, you’re still a rookie!” Song Jingang smirked, already picturing Lei Dong being smashed by his punch.

Yet, the next instant, as his heavy punch was less than an inch from Lei Dong’s face, Song Jingang’s smirk froze on his face.

Lei Dong moved. Song Jingang didn’t even see how. Suddenly, his wrist was caught in a crushing grip. Before he could react, a tremendous force jerked him off balance, sendi