Days had started to blend together in Eldoria. The routine was always the same—helping Father in the fields with what little crops we could grow, fetching water from the nearby stream, and returning home to Mother's warm smile, despite the lines of weariness etched into her face. At night, when everyone was fast asleep, I would sneak out and practice my magic, strengthening my mana core, inching closer to mastering my aura.
***
Nine years had passed since I was reborn as Lucan Stone. My childhood, unlike most, was filled with secret training sessions and an ever-growing resolve to rise above the life I were born into. My body had grown stronger, and I could now channel my mana into simple spells—summoning a small flame, generating a gust of wind—but it wasn't enough. Not yet.
The corrupt lords still oppressed us, taking more than their due, leaving my family and others like us struggling. Each day, I reminded myself why I practiced magic in secret, why I pushed my mana core to evolve, why I would fight for those who couldn't fight for themselves.
It was a clear afternoon, the sun beating down on our small yard as I practiced a basic incantation, focusing on channeling my mana. Sweat dripped down my face as I stood barefoot in the dirt, my concentration unwavering. That's when I heard the sound—voices, loud and mocking, carried by the wind.
I wiped the sweat from my brow and looked over the fence. Three boys, dressed in the fine silks and emblems of the royal family, were gathered near the edge of the woods. At their feet, cowering in the dirt, were two children about my age—a boy and a girl, their clothes tattered, their faces bruised. The royal kids laughed as they pelted the two with stones, their voices ringing with cruel amusement.
"Get up!" one of the royal kids sneered, hurling a stone at the boy. The boy flinched but remained on the ground, shielding the girl with his small frame.
I felt a sharp anger rise in my chest, the injustice of it sparking a fire deep within me. My fists clenched at my sides as I watched, unable to stand by any longer. Memories of the corrupt lord flashed in my mind—the way he had taken from my parents, the way he had laughed as if we were nothing. These royal kids were no different.
Without thinking, I walked toward them, my feet kicking up small clouds of dust as I moved. The wind seemed to stir around me, my mana thrumming faintly beneath my skin.
"Hey! You three!" I shouted, my voice carrying through the yard. The royal kids stopped, turning to face me with sneers plastered across their faces.
"Stop it," I said firmly, standing tall, my heart pounding in my chest.
The leader of the royal kids, a boy with slicked-back hair and an air of entitlement, crossed his arms and sized me up. "And who are you to tell us what to do?"
I stepped forward, narrowing the distance between us, the fire of my mana sparking within me. "Someone who won't stand by and watch you act like cowards."
The leader of the royal kids smirked, cracking his knuckles as he stepped toward me. "You've got a big mouth for a peasant."
I stood my ground, feeling the faint pulse of mana beneath my skin, ready to react. He lunged at me, his fist swinging wide. But he was slow—so slow. With barely an effort, I sidestepped, watching as his punch sliced through the air, hitting nothing but the space I'd vacated.
"You call that a punch?" I scoffed, stepping back as the other two followed suit, their fists flying wildly in my direction.
I dodged effortlessly, shifting to the side and letting them stumble over themselves, their feet tangling in their haste. They were too slow, too weak. My training, though secret, had made me agile, my mana allowing me to read their movements before they even struck. With each dodge, I let them grow more frustrated, more reckless.
The wind stirred at my command, subtly pushing me forward or back just enough to stay out of their reach. I didn't need to fight them—I couldn't. If I so much as laid a finger on these royal brats, my family would pay the price. But that didn't mean I couldn't make fools of them.
The leader swung again, his face red with frustration. "Hold still, you coward!"
"Why?" I chuckled, leaning just out of his reach, his punch missing me by a hair. "So you can finally hit something? Try harder."
The other two tried to flank me, coming in from either side. I waited until they were just close enough before using a burst of mana to dash backward, their fists colliding with each other instead of me. They yelped in surprise, stumbling over their own feet.
"Looks like you're better at hitting each other than me," I said, smirking as I watched their clumsy attempts to regain balance.
The boy and girl who had been bullied earlier were now standing, watching the scene unfold with wide eyes. The boy's face was still bruised, his lip split, but the shock of what he was seeing seemed to dull the pain. The girl clung to his arm, her gaze fixed on me, as if unable to believe what was happening.
The leader's face twisted in anger as he charged again, this time with more fury than skill. I dodged to the side, letting him stumble past me before turning to face him. "You're not even trying, are you?" I mocked, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Or is this really the best you can do?"
His face went crimson, veins bulging at his temple. "Shut up!" he screamed, his fists flying toward me with reckless abandon. But each punch met nothing but air as I weaved around him, using small bursts of mana to enhance my movements. I was faster than him—far faster.
The other two boys tried to join in again, but it was no use. They were all clumsy, uncoordinated, their punches slow and predictable. I moved like the wind, always one step ahead, always just out of reach. I didn't need to throw a single punch. My movements spoke for themselves.
"You know," I said as I dodged yet another wild swing, "for royal kids, I expected a lot more. This is just sad."
The leader, now panting and red-faced, stumbled back, his fists dropping to his sides. He was exhausted, barely able to keep up with me. His eyes burned with frustration and embarrassment, but he knew, deep down, that he couldn't touch me.
"Enough!" he finally barked, his voice trembling with anger. "We're done here."
I gave him a mocking bow, the smirk never leaving my face. "Anytime you want a rematch, just let me know. Maybe by then, you'll have learned how to throw a punch."
The leader glared at me, his lips curling into a sneer. "This isn't over," he muttered, motioning for his lackeys to follow. They slunk away, heads down, casting one last glance at me before disappearing into the distance.
Once they were gone, I turned to the boy and girl who had been bullied. They were still standing there, staring at me with wide eyes.
"You... you didn't even hit them," the boy stammered, his voice filled with awe.
I shrugged. "Didn't need to. They were beating themselves up just fine."
The girl, who had been silent the entire time, stepped forward, her eyes shining with admiration. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "We didn't know what to do..."
I smiled at them, brushing the dirt off my tunic. "Don't worry about it. Next time, just call for me. They won't bother you again."
But deep inside, I knew this wasn't just about protecting them from bullies. Seeing those royal kids throw stones at the helpless, using their power to harm others—it reminded me of the corrupt lord, the one who had stolen from my parents. The fire inside me grew hotter, a burning need to become stronger, to rise above the shackles of this world and protect those who couldn't fight for themselves.
From that day on, my resolve only deepened. I wasn't just training for myself anymore. I was training for all the people who, like my parents, had been crushed under the weight of a corrupt system. The road ahead was long, but I was ready for it.