Five years passed, and Austin's parents understood his diligent and calm yet ruthless character, his father proud, Old man Bren concerned and his mother a mixture of both, but more concerned, often berating Marcus and having him sleep on the floor and would usually educate him on refining bone marrow pills as he would bring fourth level beasts and even fifth level ones, whose bodies had sword cuts from their mouths to tails, well, the bone marrow and heart blood weren't ruined, but it seemed as if a sadistic psychopath tortured them before they died from losing hope to live.
Although it looked like that, only he and his father knew, as when his father used to accompany him, he would see how he avoided vital points when striking to sharpen his sword intent. His fifteenth birthday was coming soon, and he just knew what to get: hunting a magical beast with a bloodline. He did not know whether a sixth level or a seventh one, as the fifth levels he had hunted all reached that point by subconsciously absorbing mana and eating same-tier or lower-tier magical beasts, but he would not tell his mother or any other soul, as that would seem like suicide, but not for Austin.
The next day came, and now he had stabilized his third level cultivation, with the firmest foundations as a mortal body would allow, and formed an apocalyptic sword intent which could cut down even a fifth level magical beast dead in breaths. He told his mother that he would spend the night at Old Man Bren, and didn't bother with his father, as he had relaxed after watching him grow up, knowing that he would be safe, as no mediocre swordsman from the Hale Sword Manor would be a match, even he sometimes, as a stellar sword cultivator, struggled to hold back the urge to fight a sword cultivator emanating such potent sword intent.
He packed up vitality pills, mana crystals, yin-yang essence, and several clothes as he was planning a week-long hunt, maybe longer, and his Sword, as he was now qualified to visit the deeper parts of the magical beast domain. He then embarked on his hunt, unsure when he would return, and did not visit Bren, so that he would buy as much time as he could before his mother lost her marbles looking for him.