Douluo Continent: Martial Soul - Agave, Self-created Earth God Position

school starts.

Sabo rushed to the classroom.

The other students had already found their seats in the classroom.

Only the front seats were empty.

Sabo had no choice but to sit in the seat closest to the podium.

after awhile.

A young teacher walked to the podium, looked around,

Once everyone had quieted down, write the three characters "伍柒柒" on the blackboard.

Turn around and introduce yourself.

"I am your homeroom teacher, Wu Qiqi, a level 45 Soul Master. My martial soul is scissors. For the next six years, you will all be my students."

"Next, this young man will begin."

Wu Qiqi was referring to Sabo.

Sabo stood up. "Hello everyone, I am Sabo. My martial spirit is Agave."

After the introductions, it's like starting a train, one thing after another.

"Hello everyone, my name is Ma San..."

"Hello everyone, my name is Zhao Si..."

"Hello everyone, my name is Ding Wu..."

"Alright, now that everyone has gotten to know each other, let me tell you about the course schedule."

"Our academy has classes from Monday to Thursday, with classes in the morning and practice time from noon onwards. We rest from Friday to Sunday."

"There are two semesters a year, each lasting 22 weeks. After completing 22 weeks of classes, there is a break, and students return when the new semester begins."

"Of course, you can also train at the academy instead of going home during the holidays."

"However, from the second year to the sixth year, things changed. Classes were held from Monday to Friday, with Saturday and Sunday off."

"I will post the class schedule at the door, and everyone can check it after class."

"Today's topic is how to cultivate soul power."

……

The morning classes ended quickly.

Sabo begins today's training plan.

Thinking of his grandfather's words, "Level three innate soul power means you have to put in ten or even a hundred times more effort than others."

Ten times, a hundred times the effort.

Simply cultivating soul power is not enough.

The growth of soul power is a slow process that cannot be rushed or skipped.

But he can work on things other than soul power—for example, his body.

Two days ago, during the initial test of his martial spirit, he had already deeply realized the limitations of his body.

He was exhausted after only activating his martial spirit for a short time.

That won't work.

The body is the boat, and the soul is the water.

If the boat isn't big enough, it will capsize no matter how much water it's filled with.

He needs to build the ship big and sturdy enough to carry more soul power.

Only in this way can one go further on the path of cultivation.

You can't start running with weights right away.

Just a normal run.

The route was planned last night.

Start from the main gate of the junior college, run along the base of the junior college wall, circle around it, and then return to the main gate.

The entire route is approximately five kilometers long.

The plan is to run five laps.

Saab wasn't fast, but he was very steady.

His strides were not long, and his pace was not high.

But every step was taken very firmly.

After finishing the first lap, his breathing became heavy.

Sweat seeped from his forehead and into his eyes, forcing him to blink constantly.

He wiped himself with his sleeve and kept running.

By the third lap, my calves started to ache.

Each step requires overcoming additional gravity.

My calf muscles feel sore and swollen, as if someone is twisting them.

Sabo gritted his teeth, shifting his attention away from the soreness and beginning to mentally restrain himself.

"If you can't finish these five laps, you have to do five hundred push-ups."

"Effort...will definitely...be...rewarded!"

By the time he reached the fifth lap, his clothes were soaked with sweat and clung tightly to his body.

His lips were dry, and his throat felt like it was blocked by something.

His breathing became increasingly rapid, and his steps began to become erratic, no longer possessing the steady rhythm he had before.

The steps became an almost instinctive movement.

But Saab did not stop.

When we were two kilometers from the finish line, we encountered a group of people.

Three men and two women, the badges on their chests indicating they were senior students.

They were standing by the roadside chatting.

As Sabo trudged over with heavy steps, all eyes were on him.

"Hey, who's this? Running in the hot sun?" a tall boy said with a grin.

Another boy squatted down, glanced at him, and said, "Little guy, are you trying to train yourself into a soul beast by working so hard?"

The other two girls covered their mouths and laughed, their laughter clear and crisp, but there was something unsettling about it.

Sabo ignored them, but his stamina had finally reached its limit.

Without noticing, I tripped over a small stone.

Sabo landed sprawled out in the grass.

He mustered his strength and tried to stand up and continue.

Laughter and whispers came from not far away.

"The one at the third level of innate cultivation, right?"

"Bishop Salas's grandson?"

"That's it? Running like a dog chews its own food, and you call that cultivation?"

"Don't talk nonsense, or he might hear you. He's a disciple of Chrysanthemum Douluo! He might report you."

Sabo gripped the ground with both hands, his fingers digging five furrows into the grass. His fingertips were covered in dirt.

He exerted tremendous effort and finally managed to stand up, ignoring the ridicule and sarcasm of others.

Ignoring the small wound on his knee, he continued running.

When he reached the college gate, he looked up and shouted, "I did it..."

He then lay down helplessly on the grass by the door.

After resting for an hour, he dragged his heavy steps and walked wearily into the college.

Cross the square in front of the teaching building and walk through the tree-lined path in the dormitory area.

I climbed up to the second floor step by step and pushed open the dormitory door.

He took off his clothes, which were covered in mud and sweat, and threw them into the basin.

Afterwards, I hung the washed clothes on the balcony.

He opened his storage ring, took out a small portion of soul beast jerky, and chewed it heartily to replenish his nutrition.

He stopped chewing once he was no longer so hungry.

Take a piece of high-quality whale glue from the ring, put it in a clay pot, and slowly melt it over low heat.

Then he took out several rare herbs from the ring.

He pounded the herbs into a dark green paste, put it into the bath tub next to him, and stirred it vigorously.

When the time is almost up, pour the whale gelatin from the casserole into a bowl.

The pungent smell of fish hit me right in the face. "How about we add some honey?"

In the end, he didn't add honey; instead, he pinched his nose and drank it down in a few gulps.

She stripped naked again and sat in the bathtub.

The dual effects of the medicine exploded both inside and outside the body.

First, there were the herbs in the bathtub.

The cool liquid clung to Sabo's skin, sending waves of icy sensations through him.

Sunburned skin and aching muscles seemed to greedily suck in the coolness.

The burning pain quickly subsided, replaced by a deep, bone-chilling comfort.

Next came the oral administration of whale gelatin.

That domineering power surged through his meridians.

Ice and fire clashed repeatedly within Sabo's body, with every inch of his bones emitting subtle popping sounds.

Sweat mixed with the medicine seeped from his skin. He clenched his teeth, his face contorted.

A six-year-old body enduring pain beyond its limits.

Gradually, the domineering nature of the whale gelatin was tamed by the continuous medicinal bath, and the burning sensation no longer surged forward.

Instead, it transforms into a warm current, seeping into every part of the body.

When the pain subsided, he opened his eyes. His body was covered with a layer of black impurities and emitted a foul odor.

This is a sign of cleansing and purifying the marrow.

Seeing that it was getting late, he took a quick shower to wash off the dirt.

He went to sleep, after all, he was at the age where he was growing.