Corey looked into the eyes of Jeremy despite him wanting to continue. When he saw the determination and flicker of excitent and anticipation in his eyes, Corey could not help but scoff in irritation.
"The final pillar," Corey turned and took five steps back. "The final pillar is called Harmonization. It is the art of synchronizing your breath with action. Each step, each strike, and each defense would be woven into the sa rhythm."
"If you’re able to achieve this, you’ll start moving as if your entire body is an indivisible weapon. If you stumble even slightly, if you break the harmony, your strength collapses. So you’ll need to master to the point where you’ll be controlling your breath even in your sleep, when you eat, when you drink water, and even when you take a shit."
Jeremy’s lips twitched. "I’m a Mystic Being. I don’t need to shit."
Smack
"Shut up. If I say you shit, then you shit." Corey suddenly appeared in front of Jeremy and flicked his forehead. Jeremy mumbled a curse underneath his breath as he held his forehead.
Despite it being just a flick, it felt like a rock had been flung at his forehead.
’I didn’t even see him move. How vast is the difference between the two of us?’
Jeremy exhaled deeply as he slowly rubbed his forehead.
He looked at Corey, and he saw him breaking a branch from the tree.
"Did you have to flick that hard?" He asked with a slight furrow of his brows.
Corey looked at him, and he scoffed while shaking his head. "I didn’t even use up to 1% of my strength to do that."
Jeremy’s expression changed slightly, but he didn’t say anything in response and rely waited for Corey to continue his teachings.
"Hmm. As I was saying, you need to engrave the breathing control into your very soul. Now... try."
Corey stood in front of Jeremy with his arms crossed, and then Jeremy began practicing. He inhaled, trying to keep his lungs steady. But Corey’s voice cut in instantly as he used to stick to touch Jeremy’s chest.
"Your chest rises too high. Lower it. Use your diaphragm."
Jeremy adjusted with a slight frown on his face as he noticed where Corey was touching with the stick.
"Your exhale is uneven. Smoothen it. Think of mist, not the wind."
He tried again.
"Too shallow. You’re starving your blood. Deeper."
Minutes stretched into an hour, and Corey remained in the sa spot with the correction stick.
anwhile, Jeremy’s face suddenly grew red, his body trembled, and his throat felt raw and strained from the countless efforts and changes he had put in just an hour. Sweat soaked his shirt, and each breath beca an uphill climb.
Corey remained impassive, and corrected him at every falter. His Eyes of Omniscience noticed and guided each adjustnt, whether it was the flex of a rib, the twitch of a vein, or the uneven vibration of his heartbeat.
He saw everything, and a slight frown could be seen on his face as he used the stick to guide Jeremy and his lips to speak to him.
’Hmm... Just as I suspected.’
Corey exhaled softly, and then he gestured to the side using the stick.
"Try to move while breathing."
Jeremy obeyed. He tried to get up, but he stumbled and lost control of his breathing.
Corey shook his head. "Regain control of your breathing and try again."
Jeremy panted, and then he inhaled deeply before exhaling deeply.
It took him approximately fifteen minutes to be able to regulate his breathing, and then he tried again.
But he stumbled once again, and lost control of his breathing.
Corey said nothing, and just watched with folded arms. anwhile, Jeremy had a determined expression as he tried once again.
It took him another fifteen minutes to be able to control his breathing, and then he tried again.
But he failed.
It took him five trials in total before he was able to stand on his two feet while controlling his breath, and Corey nodded.
"Now, take a step forward."
Jeremy took a few minutes before he had the confidence to take his first step. Although he took the first step very slowly.
First Step.
Second Step.
Third Step.
Fourth Step.
Jeremy took six steps in total before his vision beca blurry, and every muscle scread in pain. He wanted to take another step, but his body refused.
"Do not gasp. Do not falter. Control the breath, or the breath will control you."
Jeremy wanted to look at Corey, but his whole attention was on his breathing.
He was trying to control it, but he knew that he was going to fail despite his attempts.
’Damn it.’
Disappointnt flashed in Jeremy’s eyes, and just as he was about to stagger, he felt the familiar tip of the branch on his back.1
Suddenly, sothing clicked the mont Corey’s stick touched his back. His inhale filled his chest, but not with panic or anxiety like before, but with heat. His exhale emptied not with weakness like usual, but with steadiness.
"Walk." Corey commanded, and he moved.
His step flowed smoother than before, and his arms swayed much better compared to before. For a brief instant, his body felt... lighter.
A few seconds later, Corey removed the stick, and Jeremy instantly collapsed to his knees, gasping, but his eyes were wide with shock. "I... I felt it. My body... it was... it was twice as strong compared to now."
Corey crouched before him, and spoke with a low and absolute voice.
"This is just the tip of the iceberg. Rember that feeling, Jeremy. Burn it into your soul. Breath Control will not make you the strongest overnight. You are not talented. You will bleed, fail, and struggle. But if you persist, which I’m sure you will... you will carve strength into your flesh one breath at a ti. And when others falter, you will still be standing."
Jeremy looked up at him with his chest heaving, and sweat dripping from all over his body. A burning gaze could be seen in his eyes. "...Teach more."
Corey’s lips twitched, and just as he was about to reply, a voice drifted into their ears.
"I’m sorry, my King. But that’s enough training, we have to leave."
That sounds wrong even as I wrote it
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