"Why are you showing me, that my proficiency in swordmanship has dropped? Is it because I didn't really use it during the last month? Will it always be like this that my skills will decrease when I don't practise them?"
[Don't worry, you missunderstood. Your proficiency stayed at the same level, it's just that your stats increased, which means that you're now able to master it to a higher degree.]
"Ah, I get it. It makes sense that the person who moves at the old speed of light will require their swordmanship to be more advanced in order to keep up with their speed, compared to a normal human. If it's going to be like this, I think that in each rank I will have three learning sessions, one after each part of the cultivation. This way, my skills won't grow obsolete."
[That's a good plan, though after rank 3 you will need one more training session. I won't disclose why, it will be a little secret. Just keep in mind that rank 3 beings are way more stronger than pinnacle rank 2 ones.]
During his inner talk with system, his mother came into his room.
"Hi dear, we've just got a call from your uncle, he said that they wanted to visit us. Your cousin got accepted into the Guardians of Order sect and from now on they will live there. Soon they will join them in their headquarters in France, they wish to see us and ask if we need any help, since they still believe that you suffer from spinal cord injury. What do you think of their visit, won't it obstruct you, they will know that you know some kind of healing spell. Considering the fact, that your cousin will join the Guardians sect, what if he spreads this knowledge and the government will force you to work for them?" - she asked with concern.
"Hmm... I don't want them to know about it right now. We were never close as a family, in comparison I totally believe that both the blacksmith and my swordmanship master won't disclose it. I just don't trust them enough to keep it a secret, escpecially now, since they can get benefits in the sect if they spread information about the person who can cast spells. I will just return for now to my camp place and continue with my training. Convince them that I had died during the chaos after New Year's. That would be safer."
"Do we need to go that far in order to hide this fact? Can't you just spend this time in a wheelchair. They wouldn't get to know that you no longer require it?"
"Never! Never again. Besides I would anyway leave you in the near future, even if they weren't coming here, so it's not a big deal. I can't get stagnant, I need to strive for greater strength."
"I ... understand. Come here, give me a hug for goodbye."
After he bid farewells to his parents he went to the forest area near his camp. Since he was leaving anyway, he could immediately continue tempering his body. This time, as his focus he set an agility parametr. To increase it, he decided to start sprinting in the forest, both of its uneven terrain and the trees serving as obstacles. He wondered if he should first focus on mastering a stamina restoration spell, thanks to which he could quicken the training. Eventully he decided against it, the decisive fact was that in the battle this spell would be useless, mana has more useful applications.
Morgath stood at the edge of his campsite, gazing into the dense forest that had become his training ground. He could already feel the difference in the air—clean, crisp, almost electric with energy. Since the awakening, the world had changed, and nature seemed to thrive in ways it hadn't before. Pollution had all but vanished in places like this, away from the bustling cities. The mana in the air was thick, and it felt as though every breath he took filled him with strength. Spring had come, and the forest bloomed with new life. Morgath could feel it too, a resurgence of energy within himself.
"Agility," he muttered, tightening his bootstraps. "Let's see what you've got for me."
His plan was simple: sprinting through the uneven terrain of the forest, using the natural obstacles of trees, bushes, and rocks to hone his movement. It wasn't just about running fast, but about precision and fluidity. The quicker he could react, the better his agility would become. He took a deep breath and launched forward, his feet pounding the earth as he sped through the undergrowth. The wind rushed past him, leaves whipping against his body as he dodged between tree trunks.
For the first few sprints, he could feel the strain in his legs and chest. But with each lap, his body adapted, moving more fluidly, his steps becoming lighter and quicker. Morgath was surprised at how quickly he could already feel the improvements, his enhanced stats allowing him to adjust in real-time.
After what felt like an hour, he took a break, leaning against a tree to catch his breath. His legs were burning, his lungs aching, but there was satisfaction in that pain. As he looked around, he marveled at how the forest seemed even more vibrant than before. Flowers bloomed all around him—pinks, whites, yellows—and the air was filled with the sweet scent of fresh blossoms.
The system wasn't wrong when it said that nature would benefit from mana, he thought. The world really was evolving.
His eyes caught something small and green tucked under a nearby bush—a spiritual herb. Smiling to himself, Morgath crouched down and gently plucked the herb, adding it to the collection he had started. These herbs had become incredibly valuable since the Awakening, and even though he didn't dabble much in alchemy yet, he knew their worth. He'd stumbled upon a few during his training, and his small stash was growing.
Pushing off the tree, he continued his sprinting routine, this time pushing harder. His muscles screamed for relief, but Morgath welcomed the burn. This was where progress was made, at the limits of his endurance.
By the end of the first week, Morgath could feel a noticeable difference. His movements were more fluid, his reflexes sharper. He didn't stumble as often over roots or uneven ground. Instead, his body flowed like water, adapting to each change in terrain with ease. He could sprint longer, harder, without losing his breath as quickly.
The days passed in a rhythm of training and recovery. Each morning, he would wake early and spend hours sprinting through the forest, navigating obstacles with increasing finesse. In the afternoons, he would sit by the lake, meditating on his progress or practicing his 'Vitalyth' spell to further increase its proficiency.
Spring was in full bloom by the second week, and the forest around him was teeming with life. Morgath admired the beauty of the flowers blooming on the trees and the earth, the vibrant colors giving the landscape a serene, almost surreal atmosphere. Yet, despite the beauty around him, he remained focused on his goal.
One evening, just after he had completed his final agility sprint, something disturbed the peace. He heard rustling from behind, a sound too deliberate to be an animal. Morgath's senses sharpened as he turned around, his eyes quickly locking onto a figure approaching through the trees.
The man was close enough for Morgath's enhanced perception to catch every detail. His clothes were ragged, and his movements clumsy, but most concerning was the knife glinting in his hand. Morgath's first instinct was to assume this person was looking for help, and the knife was simply for self-defense. After all, it wasn't exactly smart to make so much noise if you were planning to attack.
But as the man drew closer, his intentions became clear.
"Hand over everything you've got!" the man shouted, waving the knife menacingly.
Morgath blinked in disbelief. Seriously?
Still, there was a thrill in his chest. This was his first real fight, even if it wasn't exactly what he had hoped for. Morgath unsheathed his blades with a practiced fluidity, the weight of the steel feeling natural in his hands. He positioned himself, ready for battle.
The thug lunged at him, his strength clearly enhanced by spiritual stones—Morgath estimated he'd used around twenty. But it was clear the man didn't know how to control his power. His clumsy attacks were slow and easy to predict, and Morgath dodged them effortlessly.
Their blades clashed once, sending a jolt of force up Morgath's arm. The thug's strength was considerable, he had probably used all of the spiritual stones to enhance his strenght, but without skill, it was meaningless. The man's wild swings left him wide open. With one swift motion, Morgath disarmed him and followed through with a clean strike, beheading him.
Blood sprayed across the forest floor, staining the beauty of the spring evening. Morgath sighed in disappointment, wiping his blade clean.
"Well, that was underwhelming," he muttered, casting a quick healing spell on his slightly aching arm and then using 'Redintegrare' on the blade that had been damaged in the clash.
He glanced down at the body, debating what to do with it. With a grunt, Morgath grabbed the corpse by the collar and dragged it deeper into the forest, far enough away that it wouldn't disturb his peace.
As the sun began to set, casting an orange glow over the treetops, Morgath returned to his camp. He was exhausted, but there was a sense of satisfaction in his progress. His agility training was complete. The next day would mark the beginning of his strength training—the final piece of the puzzle before he could move on to mastering his skills.
Lying down in his tent, he reflected on the day. The forest was quiet again, and despite the brief disturbance, peace had returned. Morgath smiled to himself. Tomorrow, he would push his body even further.
But for now, he allowed himself the luxury of sleep. Tomorrow would bring new challenges.