The morning sun streamed through my window, but I barely noticed its warmth. I had been pacing for nearly an hour, skipping my usual meditation. Too much on my mind.
I was going to school. A school in another world, which meant I needed to study more than just magic. The norms, etiquette, school subjects—hell, are there different languages? The fact that everyone seemed to speak English when I was summoned was strange, but maybe my mind was altered when I arrived, allowing me to understand the native tongue.
'No use dwelling on it. And Bel's not likely to give me a straight answer.'
The revelation about Bel had definitely put me on edge—not just around him, but around everyone. It was unclear who could be trusted. For now, the only one I could trust besides myself was Divinus. Unfortunately.
[Unfortunately?!]
'Yes, unfortunately. I'm in a foreign world, and the only thing I can put my trust in is an inanimate object!'
Divinus scoffed in my ear, and if I wasn't mistaken, I could almost sense him crossing his arms and looking away.
'Strange…'
Shaking my head, I knew I needed to change my mindset for the foreseeable future. I could no longer wait idly for Bel or any of the mages he enlisted to help. I would find my own way back home.
Logically, it should be possible. If I could be brought to another world, why couldn't I be sent back? Sadly, my current understanding of magic was too small to make any real progress toward getting home. Which meant I was going to be here for a while, and I needed to get that through my thick skull.
Sighing deeply, I sat down on the surprisingly comfortable wooden chair by the desk near the window.
'My main focus should be magic. The academy will greatly help with that…hopefully.'
[What about swordsmanship?]
Divinus almost sounded slightly offended by the idea. Crossing my legs and leaning back, I replied.
'What about it? Being good with a sword won't help me get home.'
Divinus sighed in a way that almost sounded like he was shaking his head.
[From what I've learned from your memories, yes, magic is what brought you here. However, it was Ancient Magic, which means it's mostly a forgotten form of magic—or worse, forbidden.]
Divinus paused for a moment before continuing.
[Forgotten is the best-case scenario. It would just mean a lot of hard work, searching for texts or finding historians who might know something. The worst case, though, is if it's forbidden. And if that's the case, there are probably two reasons why.]
'And those reasons are?'
Divinus cleared his throat before speaking.
[One reason is that the power is too destructive to be used. So if we study it—or worse, use it—we could get in big trouble with the law.]
I thought for a moment and then retorted.
'That's understandable, but pretty easy to avoid. So what's the real concern?'
He sighed again.
[It's the second reason that should worry you. The people who forbade this magic did so for power. And if they discover someone trying to get their hands on that power, they might be inclined to… get rid of that person.]
A dark atmosphere filled the room as Divinus finished.
He was right. I was a little naïve to think I shouldn't be wary of people. Abominations were going to be the least of my worries.
This change in mindset was going to be deeper than I thought. Focusing solely on magic wouldn't be enough. I would have to completely immerse myself in improving all aspects of my abilities.
Throwing my head back and letting my arms go limp, I sighed, staring at the red ceiling with its intricate black patterns.
'I can already feel a headache brewing.'
***
[ZERIS POV]
"First form."
"Second form."
"Third form."
"Fourth form."
Ezra continued to perform the forms of the sword style I had taught him. He had asked if we could do a training session after the celebratory dinner, which surprised me a little. It was late, so we moved into a dojo. The dojo was a simple square room with a red mat, black fortified walls, high ceilings, and bright light fixtures scattered about. Wooden training weapons hung on one of the walls.
'He's improved greatly.'
The fluidity of his movement, the footwork, his posture, his breathing—very impressive. He may act cowardly at times, and throw a few tantrums, but the boy is without a doubt impressive.
Back in the Abominable Forest, I saw how truly remarkable he was. His magical capabilities are terrifying. The spell he used against the first Abominations he encountered was massive and extremely powerful for someone at the First Threshold.
Aspirants, depending on their elemental affinity, can maybe blow a light gust of wind, start a fire, or gather dirt to form a rock. The entirety of the First Threshold is about understanding mana, developing a relationship with it, and letting it flow through the body. They have little control over it.
However, Ezra is a complete anomaly. He's already on the precipice of the Second Threshold in such a short amount of time. Aspirants usually enter the First Threshold around six to nine years old, and it takes them until their early to mid-teens to reach the Second.
Those of noble blood may have an easier time ascending the Phases, but there are prodigies out there. What sets Ezra apart is that he can already influence ambient mana.
Aspirants cannot do this. It's only when someone reaches the Third Threshold that they begin to influence ambient mana. I do not possess the ability to see mana like Magic Philosophers, so I can't fully understand what makes Ezra so different.
"Take a moment to rest. Afterward, we spar."
Ezra's eyes widened slightly, and he coughed.
"You're not going to knock me out again, are you?"
His face contorted with fear while I stared at him.
"Only if you fail to defend yourself."
He hesitated, then walked over to take a sip of water. After a deep breath, he circled opposite me, readying his training sword, lowering himself into a defensive stance.
His gaze was sharper than it had been before.
I walked over to the wall of weapons and grabbed a straight sword, the one I was most familiar with. Ezra's eyes followed my movements. Facing the wall, I relaxed my shoulders and loosened my grip, letting the smooth wood fit comfortably in my hand.
An eerie calm filled the dojo.
"Begin."
Spinning around, I dashed forward, the wind barreling past me. Ezra's eyes shifted slightly, and his body reacted, sidestepping my lunge. Letting my knees give way, I dropped low while spinning and swiped my leg under his.
Ezra was too slow. My leg swept him off his feet, and he landed on his back.
Standing slowly, I walked with my back to him. He let out an angered growl and stood up. I could feel a slight displacement in mana. The moment he dashed, the mana moved.
Spinning at the last second, I parried his slash. A dull pain shot through my hand from the force.
'Interesting…'
For a moment, Ezra seemed lost in a trance. His movements were precise and graceful for someone of his skill. Still holding back, I allowed him to send a flurry of attacks my way, either shifting slightly or letting his blade slide smoothly over mine as I dodged.
He let out an agitated grunt.
His gaze remained focused and calculating. Beads of sweat fell from his brow. The sound of wood clashing against wood filled the air.
For the time being, we were at a stalemate. Ducking under one of his attacks, I spun around to his back, kicked the back of his knee, and caused him to buckle. I pressed the tip of my blade to his back, giving him a moment to breathe.
"You are too reckless. Your movements have improved a great deal, yes, but combat is not always a battle of raw power. It's a battle of minds. You must predict your opponent's next move. Lead them into traps. Don't let the flow of battle dictate you. You control the fight. You dictate what happens next."
I paused to let my words sink in.
"Do not forget, the core element of combat in this world is magic."
Ezra remained silent. Only the sound of his labored breathing filled the dojo.
Spinning on his knee, he swiped the tip of my sword off his back. I was momentarily open—or so he thought. As he regained his footing and aimed the tip of his blade at my sternum, I let the momentum of my sword carry me around his attack.
Before I could counter, he rolled, creating some distance between us.
We circled each other, his mouth slightly open, chest heaving. His eyes, perfect and smooth like twin pearls, gleamed with a clarity that was almost too pure for the world around him.
The hair on the back of my neck stood up, a chill rolling through my body. I decided I wouldn't hold back any longer.
I stepped forward, and the dojo shuddered under the pressure of a Gilded mage of the Master phase. The world blurred around me as wind pelted my face. Ezra stood still, as if time had stopped. Leading with my right shoulder, I hit Ezra in the chest, sending him flying into the reinforced wall with a loud bang.
His training sword flew off to the side of the room. He slid down the wall, slumping over, but he was still conscious—a marked improvement from the last time we sparred.
Ezra let out a pained grunt and grabbed his chest, he bursted into a fit of coughing, struggling to catch his breath.
Dropping my sword on the mat, I walked to the entrance of the dojo preparing to leave, when I heard Ezra's stifled voice.
"Wait!"
I turned my head slightly, Ezra lingered for a moment, slowly managing to bring himself to his feet, walking slowly to his wooden sword grabbing it. Then continued to where I had dropped mine, kicking it, sending it sliding to my feet. He spoke a little reluctantly.
"Again."