Destiny in Cinders

An Jing's exploration of Direlife Manor was unsuccessful. For the first time in ages, his sleep was troubled. Dreams filled with bestial roars, visceral images of flesh and blood, the sound of teeth grinding, and the frantic pounding of his heart left him restless and anxious. Only the clear hum of a sword provided a hint of respite.

Plagued by strange visions, fitful slumber and a heavy heart, An Jing felt listless during his morning training. However, no one suspected anything amiss as most of the children who consumed the meat exhibited similar conditions, some far worse.

But it wasn't all bad. Within days, they all began to discover the effects of the "beast flesh" and "herbs" they had ingested. First, their recovery time shortened significantly, and their strength visibly increased. Challenging moves and stamina-draining drills began to feel effortless. Naturally, the instructors immediately intensified the training upon noticing this, yet the children rarely experienced that lack of energy or the hollow ache of insufficient nourishment.

The same was true for An Jing. The intense training, ample sustenance, and herbs fully restored his body from the ravages of the snow calamity. Because he received far more beast flesh than the others, his newly developed muscles, which started out soft, quickly gained density and firmness as they integrated with his increasingly sturdy bone structure. Though, he still seemed unremarkable from the outside as his strength was apparent only by touch.

As time passed, the children grew at an astonishing pace, but an increasing number were eliminated. Those who consumed more resources yet failed to fulfill expectations were removed.

On the morning twenty days later, Ye Xiuyuan too was gone from Direlife Manor. Departures had become the norm, and there was a continuous flow of people leaving the mountain. Gu Yeqi wiped her tears away, while Cang Linzu secretly retreated to the toilet to cry, feigning apathy on the outside.

Zhan Feng was so upset he couldn't finish his dinner. It was Ye Xiuyuan who had patiently taught him to write and read. Without his guidance, Zhan Feng wouldn't even be able to read the Imperial Sky Classic. He had once been a simple beggar who lived only to eat his fill, but he also yearned to learn how to read and write because he knew that literate folks ate better.

Despite Ye Xiuyuan's frequent allusions to classic texts, his recounting of past family prosperity, his hesitation and sighing, he was essentially the strategist of An Jing's small group. He was cheerful, full of clever ideas, and liked by everyone.

Some time later, Zhan Feng left as well. The tall, straightforward boy had even muttered to himself before bedtime that he would persist for as long as possible just to eat more meat, a luxury he wouldn't be able to enjoy once he left the mountain.

As more and more familiar faces left, half of An Jing's roommates departed, and the original group of over two hundred children residing at Direlife Manor gradually dwindled to just over one hundred.

An Jing remained silent and composed. Some secretly complained about An Jing's apparent ruthlessness, while others argued that he wasn't cruel. They maintained that he remembered their names, but perhaps knew that those children were simply too weak to keep pace, and that their departure was ultimately for the best. Some even claimed that An Jing was the one who determined who stayed or left. Others insisted he was just a ruthless machine, a natural-born genius interested only in training and studying.

However, An Jing remained noncommittal. He wasn't as heartless or as sentimental as they imagined him to be. The moment the eliminations began, he knew the outcome was inescapable. Many around him would fall behind and be expelled. So he took it in silence, committing them all to his memory.

The children's initial grief was raw and honest. Yet, repeated separations eventually numbed their hearts and they slowly came to view loss as the norm. They found joy and pride in remaining in Direlife Manor, viewing it as validation of their excellence. The friends they lost had only been in their lives for a few months, so they felt a flicker of sadness, but nothing more profound.

The loyal few cherished their friendships and hoped to meet again, while others gradually forgot. The intensifying regimen reduced each day to a cycle of relentless training, total exhaustion, voracious consumption, and mindless sleep.

Outwardly, An Jing said nothing, but a quiet wave of doubt rose in his heart. Because he alone remembered every face, An Jing knew that at least nine out of ten who left were those who were unable to control the urge to roar after consuming the meat. They didn't absorb the beast flesh as efficiently and exhibited slower growth.

What does the beast flesh and herbs do? And whose voice was it that warned me to stay away from the apothecary? Why did they warn me? These questions weighed heaviest on An Jing's mind.

Ever since that first meal, the children were regularly fed beast flesh and an herbal brew every ten days. Fewer children were overcome by the intense heat of the meat and the effects of the herbs, yet the cost of this adaptation appeared to be a shift in their personalities.

The change was subtle, yet undeniable. They were becoming increasingly calm and composed. But was it really composure, or perhaps a sign of their personalities becoming polarized to the extremities?

The calm grew calmer, the silent more withdrawn. Those with strong feelings developed an indifferent exterior, though their warmth and enthusiasm for their closest friends intensified.

Even An Jing wasn't immune. As his bond with Gu Yeqi and Cang Linzu deepened, he found it increasingly difficult to form friendships with the other children. If he felt this way, then what about the others? Was this caused by the beast flesh or the herbs?

An Jing wasn't sure. He only knew that his dreams were becoming increasingly unsettling. His sleep was constantly broken by strange sounds that stirred an inexplicable rage within him, those of ferocious beasts grinding their teeth, swords clashing, and rivers of blood rushing. But these weren't important; rather, the real question was why Direlife Manor was doing this.

Could it be puberty? Does training deathsworn or awakening lifearcs require extreme personalities? An Jing speculated.

The children gathered by Direlife Manor were entering adolescence, a period defined by rapid growth spurts. The meat of wild beasts could accelerate development, making them stronger and more robust, while the herbs suppressed impulsivity, thereby preventing a rebellious phase that would otherwise hinder progress during this crucial window of rapid growth. Those lacking impulse control were abandoned and sent down the mountain because they couldn't successfully transition through the phase of rapid growth.

Coming from a martial clan, An Jing was acutely aware of the changes in his body. Considering all these factors, the use of herbs to inhibit their emotions wasn't at all surprising. With the children secluded within the manor walls, under the constant influence of instructors and lecturers, experiencing a shift toward radical temperaments was inevitable. Could his strange dreams just be a byproduct of growing stronger?