The next morning, Kael found himself in a secluded training area on the outskirts of town. It was a far cry from the bustling guild halls and crowded training arenas, but Varin had insisted on the privacy. "Fewer distractions," he'd said with a wink.
Varin stood across from him, his cloak discarded, revealing a well-worn set of armor beneath. His weapon of choice was a sleek, curved blade that gleamed in the morning light.
"First lesson," Varin began, twirling the blade in his hand as if it weighed nothing, "is that raw power isn't enough. Sure, it'll get you through the lower levels, but once you start facing real enemies, you need more than just brute force. You need precision, strategy, and—most importantly—control."
He lunged forward without warning, and Kael barely had time to draw his sword before Varin's blade was inches from his throat. With a quick sidestep, Kael deflected the blow, but Varin was relentless, his movements a blur of speed and precision.
"Too slow," Varin said, his voice calm despite the flurry of attacks. "You react, but you don't anticipate. You wait for the enemy to move, and by then, it's too late."
Kael gritted his teeth, focusing on keeping up with Varin's relentless strikes. His heart pounded in his chest, and his mind raced, trying to predict the next move, the next angle. But Varin was always one step ahead, always a split second faster.
After what felt like an eternity, Varin finally stepped back, sheathing his blade with a satisfied nod. "Not bad. But not good enough."
Kael dropped to one knee, gasping for breath. He'd fought plenty of enemies before, but nothing like this. Varin wasn't just strong—he was methodical, precise. Every move was calculated, every strike aimed to exploit a weakness.
"You're holding back," Varin said, his tone more serious now. "I've seen you fight. I know you've got more in you than that."
Kael clenched his fists. He couldn't deny it. He had been holding back. Ever since the Guide's warning, he'd been afraid to unleash the full potential of the Rebirth Core. The fear of drawing more Darkspawn, of becoming a target, had been gnawing at him.
"I don't want to rely too much on my power," Kael admitted, his voice low. "There's a price that comes with it."
Varin raised an eyebrow, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Interesting. Not many players think like that. Most would use whatever they could to get stronger. But you… you're different."
There it was again—different. Kael swallowed hard, trying to keep his expression neutral. "What do you mean?"
Varin smirked, crossing his arms. "Let's just say I've heard rumors. Players who defy the system. Players with abilities that don't quite fit the rules of the game."
Kael's blood ran cold. Varin knew. Maybe not everything, but he knew enough.
"But that's none of my business," Varin added, shrugging. "I'm not here to dig into your secrets. I'm here to help you survive, whatever that takes. So, if you want to keep holding back, that's your call. But just know that when the real danger comes, you won't have time to hesitate."
Kael stood slowly, wiping the sweat from his brow. He met Varin's gaze, trying to gauge the man's intentions. There was something about Varin—something he couldn't quite place. But for now, Kael knew he needed this training. He needed to be stronger, even if it meant trusting someone he barely knew.
"Alright," Kael said, gripping his sword tighter. "Let's keep going."