8 Doubt

"This is a core?"

I felt something pulsing from within. It feels rather strange. Somehow, it both felt intimate and foreign.

"Maybe because it is just newly formed? Strange."

I stood up from bed stretching my strained body. Who knew building a core would burden then body so much. I am glad that all those training paid off.

"Where should I go? I don't even know any martial arts yet so maybe I should go to Dad?"

I walked out of my room thinking about what I should do. Along the hallway, various people greeted me. They were the maids and servants in our household.

"Hm? Young Master? Where are you going? Are planning to go out?"

I was greeted by a giant man with broad shoulders and clear-cut facial features. Not only were his arms bulky but also his hands were large. He was the head servant of the house, Trien.

"I'm not sure. I've just formed my core but I don't know any martial arts. I was thinking that maybe Dad could teach me some."

"Forming a core?"

Besides Trien, A maid had uttered in askance.

"Yeah. A Spirit Core. Uncle said that I needed to form a core before I could be considered to be on the path of cultivation."

The bewilderment only grew on the maid's face. Before she could speak further, Trien glared at her signalling her to stop.

"If the Young Master is looking for Master, he's in his study right now. I'm sure he can you with your current dilemma."

I gave him a nod as I went on my way to Dad's study.

"Dad."

I knocked thrice.

"Come in."

I slid open the door and soon found Dad sitting on his huge black armchair. He was reading a thick book while wearing glasses made for reading. He looked up and laid his book on his laps.

"What is it? Is something wrong?"

"Something wrong?"

"Mm. Are you feeling strange or something of the sort?"

"Not really, I guess? It just feels awkward having a core and all."

"Mm. That's normal. It's just your body is not accustomed to the core yet. So what brings you here?"

"I want to learn martial arts."

Dad gave a stern look at me before standing up and heading towards the bookshelf by the window. He searched with his fingers and stopped on an old tattered book. He stroked the spine gently and looked at it endearingly. He finally picked up the book from the shelf before softly handing out out to me.

"This is the first martial art your father learned when he was a child. This martial art is called, 'Nine Mountain Tigers'. It's a set of fist exercises, but, in the end, it only does one move."

"Only one move?"

"Mm. Look closely. I shall demonstrate it slowly. How much you comprehend depends on your abilities and luck."

Dad took his stance and slowly waved his fist in the air. It formed a strange feeling as if there's concealed might within grace. It was like a hidden tiger crouching in tall grass waiting for its moment to pounce and devour its target. Dad continued his set of fists before releasing out a slow but powerful fist forward. Boom! One large shock wave echoed throughout the room as slight tremors reverberated on the ground. My hair and even the clothes on my body fluttered from the residual force of the fist.

"This fist..."

"It's called, the 'Preying Tiger's Fist'."

"Nine Mountain Tigers... Preying Tiger's Fist..."

I closed my eyes as I whispered those names trying to engrave it to heart.

"Well. You should go now. You can practice on your own. Don't disappoint father as this was a martial art personally given by your Uncle."

"By Uncle?"

"Mm. Now, go. I'm busy."

"Thanks Dad!"

A smile suffused on my face as I left with frolic in my steps.