Strongest Family System

After leaving his father's study, Robert did not stay. He had a clear path ahead of him and no time to waste. He walked quickly across the compound, heading for the alchemy building at the eastern edge of the Osborn estate. Inside, lanterns cast a gentle glow on the walls, which were lined with shelves filled with jars, ores, and herbs.

He entered his private chamber, shutting the heavy wooden door behind him. The air inside was warm, carrying the faint fragrance of aged medicinal plants. With a single thought, he opened the system storage, and bundles of herbs appeared in neat stacks across the table—gleaming leaves, dried roots, and translucent stalks that shimmered faintly with spiritual energy.

Robert found his spot in front of the furnace, rolling up his sleeves as he did so. He worked with a steady hand, and the flames flickered gently from his fingertips.

Within the cauldron, the herbs were meticulously sorted, purified, and mixed into a vibrant liquid essence, their shades glistening like precious gems.

He focused his inner strength to steer the blend, carefully removing any impurities until the mixture transformed into thick pills.

Time slipped away unnoticed.

By the time evening shadows stretched long across the alchemy hall, three neat trays of pills rested on the table, each one glowing faintly with growing light. Three hundred Spirit Root Nourishing Pills, all of them third-line grade—decent, steady, but far from the perfection he sought.

Robert exhaled slowly, wiping his brow. "Three hundred… More than enough for the disciples to advance. But to craft a fourth-line or higher, my soul power must grow sharper still."

His gaze lingered on the pills, pride tempered by resolve. He withdrew a Soul Recovery Pill from the system and swallowed it, feeling warmth surge through his mind. Half an hour passed in meditation before he finally rose, refreshed.

He left the alchemy building behind, stepping out into the cool night air. The compound was quieter now, with torches burning along the training fields. Robert walked toward the eastern ground and soon heard the sound of blades cutting air, fists striking targets, and breath drawn in rhythm.

Five figures moved under the pale moonlight—his sister Essie among them, her strikes crisp, her aura steadier than when he last sparred with her. Ronan's broad frame thundered with each movement; Emer's speed carried him across the field like a shadow. Sarah and Talyen pushed their limits as well, sweat running down their faces, yet determination burning in their eyes.

Robert stopped at the edge of the training ground and called out. "All of you. Come here."

The five turned instantly, wiping their foreheads as they approached. Essie was the first to speak, her tone curious but warm. "Brother, what is the matter? Did something happen?"

Robert met her gaze, then looked at all of them. His voice was steady, carrying weight. "The competition in Celestial Brook City draws closer each day. "We cannot afford to waste a single moment. Starting tonight, we will train side by side—honing our strengths and eliminating our weaknesses."

Five of them nodded after exchanging looks. They had determination and trust in their eyes.

Essie asked again, softly this time. "Where should we practise?"

Robert's lips curved faintly as he gestured eastward. "The new training grounds are at the far side of the clan. They were built recently, wide enough for true combat practice. There, no one will disturb us."

Without hesitation, they agreed. "Good."

Together, the six of them walked across the moonlit compound, their footsteps in rhythm. Behind them, the Osborn clan stirred faintly with new strength—the dense qi settling into every stone, every courtyard, every breath drawn by its disciples. Ahead of them, the east wing awaited, its grounds silent, its future echoing with the promise of battle cries and breakthroughs.

The night was young, but the Osborns had already begun to move.

For the first time in many years, Robert felt it clearly: the clan was not merely surviving anymore. It was preparing to rise.

Long shadows danced across the new training grounds as the morning sun illuminated the eastern walls of the Osborn estate. The expansive field, surrounded by tall practice dummies and reinforced walls built to endure the force of cultivators' strikes, boasted a freshly laid stone floor.

Robert watched as his five friends gathered one by one while he stood in the middle, hands clasped behind his back. Each bore the burden of expectation along with the excitement of youth.

Essie twirled her sword, her stance steady, her eyes burning with confidence. Her skill, Four-Direction Cleave, gave her strikes layered force, while her Drifting Leaf Shift footwork made her movements fluid and hard to predict.

Sarah adjusted the grip on her blades, her expression calm and reserved. She had trained in Dual Serpent Fangs, a ruthless twin-blade technique, and her Featherlight Ascension movement skill allowed her to weave in and out of reach like a darting swallow.

With muscles as taut as coiled ropes, Ronan whirled his spear in wide arcs, ready for battle. His spear skill, Heaven-Piercing Thrust, was direct and devastating, while he, too, had trained in Featherlight Ascension to carry his bulk faster than most expected.

With a graceful stance, Emer kept his hands steady on the hilt of his blade. He opted for the Azure Petal Flow—Blooming Form: Crescent Bloom Arc, a stunning combination of precision and elegance.

He was incredibly agile thanks to his Wind Strider Technique, which made it seem as though his feet were barely touching the ground.

Taylen clenched his fists, qi flickering faintly around him. Though he lacked polish, his growing strength was undeniable; his body hardened through persistence and grit.

Robert's gaze swept over them all. He himself had begun refining his own skills further—his Shadow Step – Level 2: Breath Sync (Minor Success Achieved) and Twin Dragon Fang – Level 2: Coiling Scales Technique (Minor Success Achieved) were becoming sharper with each session.

"All of you are strong," Robert began, voice steady but commanding. "But strength alone does not win battles. Alone, you are swords and arrows. Together, you must become a blade no enemy can withstand."

Essie tilted her head. "So, brother, what will you have us do?"

He raised a hand and pointed to the sparring circle. "We begin with what you lack. Pair up. Show me how you fight."

They nodded. Ronan and Emer clashed first—brute force against speed. Ronan's strikes landed like thunder, shaking the ground, but Emer darted away with nimble steps, his counters sharp but shallow. Robert's eyes narrowed. Emer could evade but lacked finishing power; Ronan could crush, but only if his enemy allowed him to catch them.

Sarah faced off against Talyen, her two blades slicing through the air like striking snakes. Yet, every time Talyen closed the distance, she found herself stumbling. He was strong and relentless, his fists radiating with qi, but his lack of precision created openings that Sarah could exploit if she were bold enough to seize the moment.

In a heated exchange, Essie faced off against Robert, their blades ringing out in a sharp, synchronized rhythm. Each strike was a challenge to the other's balance. Essie's Four-Direction Cleave had a solid heft to it, and her Drifting Leaf Shift allowed her to maneuver with surprising agility. However, Robert's skill was evident; his movements flowed seamlessly, embodying the grace of Shadow Step and the powerful cadence of Twin Dragon Fang. He pressed her back with unwavering determination, halting just before he could strike her shoulder.

"Enough." His voice cut across the grounds as the sparring ceased.

He faced them all, expression calm but unyielding. "You see it, don't you? Each of you has talent. But your weaknesses are too clear. A skilled enemy will exploit them without mercy."

Silence hung heavy in the air. None dared deny it.

Robert broke the silence with a plan. "From today, we train as a unit. Emer—your speed will mean nothing if you cannot strike hard. You will work with Ronan. His strength will cover you, and your speed will sharpen his clumsy footwork. Together, you will strike as hammer and dagger."

The two exchanged a glance, then nodded firmly.

"Sarah," Robert continued, turning to the dual-blade wielder. "Your close-quarters skill is sharp, but you hesitate when pinned. Talyen will cover you. His fists may lack refinement, but his endurance can guard your position. Learn to rely on one another."

Talyen thumped his chest, grinning. Sarah only inclined her head, but her eyes glinted with determination.

"As for you, Essie," Robert said, his tone softening just slightly, "you will be my partner. You have fought in real battles. You understand pressure.

We will lead the formation together.

Essie's lips curved into a small, proud smile.

Robert straightened, his aura pressing lightly against them all. "This is how we will train. Not just as individuals—but as one blade. If one of you falters, the others will carry the weight. If one of you strikes, the others will create the opening. This is how we will survive the Celestial Brook competition. This is how the Osborn clan will rise."

Their eyes lit with fire. For the first time, they were not just disciples or siblings—they were comrades, bound by purpose.

Robert clapped his hands once. "Form pairs. Again. This time, fight to defend the person at your side rather than to prove yourself.

The training ground erupted once more with the clash of fists, blades, qi, and movement techniques. Dust rose into the air as the six moved in rhythm, their flaws slowly being hammered into strength under Robert's watchful gaze.

The sun climbed higher, and with every strike, every shout, and every bead of sweat, the Osborn clan took its first true step toward unity.

By noon, Robert knew one thing with certainty: when the competition arrived, they would not be seen as scattered disciples. They would be seen as a unit forged in fire—an unbroken formation bearing the Osborn name.