The Rise of a Special Forces Soldier Abandoned by a Wealthy Family

Cold Thorn vs. Little Siberian Wolf.

The cage of the Cold Thorn is the quietest.

His little Siberian wolf had fierce eyes, but seemed somewhat anxious because the aura of its target was erratic.

Cold Thorn's figure moved along the edge of the cage's shadow, his eyes as cold as ice, as if he were not experiencing a life-or-death struggle, but rather conducting a calm observation.

When the wolf cub finally couldn't hold back and pounced, Leng Ci dodged with a very slight, almost predictable sidestep, and the wolf fang only tore the corner of his clothes.

In the instant they passed each other, Cold Thorn's hand moved! So fast it was almost invisible!

He pointed his fingers like knives, concentrated all his strength into one point, and with penetrating force, stabbed the little Siberian wolf hard in the Adam's apple!

"Woo!" The little wolf let out a short, mournful cry, its movements instantly freezing, struggling to breathe, staggering a few steps before collapsing to the ground, where it painfully suffocated to death.

The whole process was almost silent, and Cold Thorn didn't even get much blood on his body.

He watched the wolf die silently, his eyes completely calm, as if he had just accomplished a trivial task.

When the four exhausted, blood-soaked children emerged from the iron cage, Baroque clapped his hands, his face beaming with undisguised satisfaction.

"Very good! The beastly instincts are beginning to awaken! But it's not enough!"

He led the children to a sandy area. Silence, like a ghost merging into a dream, was already standing there.

Xue Yan was fiddling with some strange plants, minerals and small tools, and a strange smell began to fill the air.

Baroque was the first to step forward; his teaching style was rough and direct.

"Remember the feeling of killing that beast! But you are human, and that's where humans have the advantage!" He pointed to his temple.

"And here!" He swiftly swung his hand in a chop, striking the throat of a human-shaped wooden stake, which cracked with a sickening sound.

"The Adam's apple, temples, back of the head, spine, eyes, genitals... these areas don't require much strength; as long as it's precise and swift, a single strike can be fatal!"

He explained the techniques of generating force and the structure of the human body in detail, with each demonstration accompanied by terrifying destructive sound effects.

Then, he silently stepped forward.

His presence instantly diminished, as if a wisp of smoke could dissipate it.

"Killing is not a performance." His voice was so deep that it required extreme concentration to hear.

"It's art, it's efficiency."

He demonstrated how to move in the shadows without making a sound, how to approach from behind, and how to instantly sever a target's life with his arms and wires.

His movements were simple, precise, and deadly, devoid of any beauty, yet chilling.

Next came the dagger lesson. In his hands, the military dagger seemed to come alive, transforming into streaks of cold, icy light—

Thrust, slash, pick, wipe – each move targets the vital points, demonstrating how to take a life in the fastest and quietest way.

Finally, there's Xue Yan.

He pushed up his glasses, and the look in his eyes behind the lenses was as calm as if he were conducting academic research.

"Physical methods have their limitations, but chemistry is everywhere."

He casually picked up an inconspicuous blade of grass next to him. "This is aconite. If properly extracted, even a fraction of a milligram can stop a strong man's heart."

He then picked up a brightly colored mushroom. "This one can create the most terrifying illusions, potentially making the enemy lose their senses."

He demonstrated on-site how to extract, mix, and invisibly poison—by dissolving it in water, applying it to a blade, or even turning it into powder and blowing it into the air.

Then, he would use another plant to prepare an antidote or a hemostatic powder.

"Knowledge is power; it can kill or it can save. It's up to you to choose."

His tone remained calm throughout, yet it sent chills down one's spine more than the roars and chilling silence of a baroque.

For the next three months, every day felt like a cycle between blood and death.

At dawn, they might be thrown into new cages to fight off hungry wolves, tigers, or even venomous snakes, bare-handed or with only a dagger.

Zero's attacks became increasingly precise and efficient.

Cold Thorn's killings became even more silent and stealthy.

The iron block's power and ferocity increased day by day.

The little sparrow is forced to maximize its dexterity and utilization of the environment.

In the afternoon, they received a series of "baptisms" from the three mentors.

Baroque hammers are linked to their fighting skills and ferocity.

They honed their stealth, assassination, and weaponry skills in silence.

Xue Yan then force-fed them knowledge of poisons and drugs, and made them try to prepare and use them themselves. Occasionally, they would even become the first to experience preparing their own poisons, and then prepare the antidote themselves in extreme pain.

Night falls, accompanied by pain and nightmares, but in the darkness they also tend to each other's wounds, share the skills they've secretly learned, and offer each other a faint support with their eyes.

Every day they struggled on the edge of life and death, and every movement was repeatedly honed to the point of being almost instinctive.

The three mentors, like the most demanding craftsmen, used pain, fear, and the threat of death as their hammer and chisel.

He ruthlessly sculpted these four young "weapons," pointing out every tiny mistake and forcing them to become stronger, faster, and more lethal.

Their eyes grew increasingly cold, their hands were covered with calluses and scars, and their reflexes were honed to the point of being like those of wild beasts.

Zero silently observed the changes in his companions. He knew that the most basic quenching was complete, and what followed would be an even more brutal forging process.

All they can do is survive together in this inescapable hell, and then... destroy everything that tries to destroy them.

Day after day, the four children were tempered in blood and pain.

Three months later, they were no longer facing wild beasts, but four experienced mercenaries.

The first day of the competition was a complete disaster.

Zero was slammed onto the sand countless times, Cold Thorn's attacks were always easily neutralized, Iron Pile's strength seemed clumsy in the face of skill, and Little Sparrow was even beaten until he vomited blood.

But the children did not give in.

Zero secretly practiced at night, analyzing every failed move.

Leng Ci's eyes grew colder, as if he were calculating the best time to kill.

Iron Pile's muscle memory gradually formed, and he began to anticipate his opponent's movements.

The little sparrow, on the other hand, uses its agility to its advantage, focusing its attacks on the lower body.

A month later, the changes were significant.

Zero had been able to hold out for ten minutes against the mercenaries' offensive. His eyes were sharp as an eagle's, and he could always find an opportunity to counterattack.

After a skillful grappling move, he threw his opponent to the ground for the first time.

Cold Thorn's figure became even more elusive, his dagger always appearing at the most tricky angles.

On one occasion, the tip of his knife even slashed a mercenary's carotid artery—of course, he used the back of the blade.

Ironclad began to fight like a real lion, his pounces carrying primal power and speed; one charge even sent the mercenary staggering back several steps before regaining his footing.

Only Little Sparrow progressed a little slower, but her knowledge of poisons made her opponents wary.

Once, the powder she sprinkled temporarily blinded a mercenary. Although she was immediately stopped, Xue Yan's eyes showed a rare expression of approval.

Under the setting sun, four children stood side by side on the battlefield.

They were covered in bruises, but their eyes shone with an unprecedented light.

Zero looked at his companions and knew that the most difficult trial had only just begun.

But he remained steadfast in his heart—no matter how dark the road ahead, he would protect these companions who had grown together in blood and fire.

Their childhood has long been taken away, replaced by a killing instinct ingrained in their bones.

Behind all this, three "mentors" are observing and recording, as if they are cultivating the most perfect killing weapon.