The room was dim, the only light filtering through the narrow gaps of the wooden shutters. It was soft, almost golden, painting thin stripes across the cold stone walls and floor. I blinked my eyes open slowly, the harsh ache in my body immediately reminding me of the night before. My head throbbed, every limb felt like lead, and even the simple act of breathing carried a sharp, dull ache.
I groaned, shifting on the stiff cot beneath me. The cold air wrapped around my skin, but a different kind of fire burned within me—faint but persistent. Pushing myself up to sit, I wiped at the dry corners of my mouth where the coppery taste of blood still lingered. My hands trembled slightly, and the overwhelming exhaustion in my muscles warned me not to move too suddenly.
But I couldn't help it—my mind was racing. Last night, something had awakened in me. Something raw. Something overwhelming.
Mana.
I remembered the way it had flowed through me, bending to my will as I pushed beyond my limits. The faint ache of my body didn't matter; what I could feel—still feel—was far greater than any pain.
That feeling…
It was impossible to describe. It wasn't just about power or control; it felt like the entire world within that hundred-meter radius belonged to me. Everything, from the air itself to the tiniest motes of essence that most people never even noticed, responded to me. It was intoxicating, overwhelming… and utterly addictive.
I stood up slowly, my bare feet touching the cold stone floor as I leaned on the cot for support. My legs wobbled under the strain, my vision blurred momentarily, but my determination outweighed the exhaustion. Stumbling slightly, I made my way to the small grated window on the far wall. The sunlight slipped through, warm and gentle, but even that felt insignificant compared to the heat that burned within my chest.
The scene outside the fortress grounds was quiet as usual—nothing had changed. Yet, to me, everything felt different.
"I can still feel it," I murmured under my breath. My fingers gripped the edge of the window, and I closed my eyes, trying to recall the sensation of last night. That moment of clarity and dominance—of feeling alive.
It wasn't enough.
I turned away from the window and staggered back toward the center of the room. The soreness in my body grew stronger with every step, but my mind was sharper than ever. My heart pounded as the memories of last night replayed in vivid detail. The mana swirling around me, the way it obeyed my commands—not out of fear, but out of acknowledgment. It wasn't just power; it was freedom. It was control.
And I couldn't help but want more.
The truth was, dominating mana like that wasn't natural. Mana wasn't something to be bent to anyone's will. It was meant to be respected, earned—not coerced. Nochtaris had said as much, and for the most part, he was right. I'd learned that forcing it was pointless, like trying to cage the wind. But… last night had been different.
When I stopped fighting the essence, it had come to me. Flowing naturally, as if it had been waiting for someone to understand its rhythm. And when it did, it felt like the universe itself was at my fingertips.
I ran a hand through my hair, my fingers brushing against my damp forehead. Sweat still clung to my skin despite the morning chill, evidence of the struggle I had endured. Last night, I had expanded my domain to a hundred meters, something Nochtaris had considered exceptional for someone of my rank. Even now, I could sense it—the faint echo of connection to the mana in the room.
But it wasn't enough.
It would never be enough.
I couldn't stop thinking about it—the way the world had felt when it bent to my command. I wasn't content with just this; I wanted to go further. To push beyond the limits and see just how far I could go. To master the mana around me to the point where it wasn't just a tool but an extension of myself.
"Addicting," I muttered, the word slipping from my lips. It wasn't just a rush; it was something deeper, primal. Something that made me want to keep going, no matter the consequences.
Nochtaris's voice echoed in my mind, that steady, cold guidance he always offered. "You've done well, mortal, but this is only the beginning. You've merely grasped the edge of something far greater."
For once, I agreed with him.
I looked down at my trembling hands, flexing my fingers slowly. They had been weak for most of my life—useless appendages compared to others who had always surpassed me. But now? Now, they could shape the world around me. I wanted to take that power further, to claim my rightful place in this world.
And the thought of it exhilarated me.
I couldn't stop the small, determined smile that crept across my face. "One hundred meters is only the beginning," I whispered. "If I can push that far, what's stopping me from going further?"
The answer was simple: nothing. Nothing but the limits I hadn't shattered yet.
The faint clang of steel against wood echoed in the air as I stood in the middle of the training grounds, sword in hand, sweat dripping down my brow. The sun hung high in the sky, its heat bearing down mercilessly, but I'd grown used to it by now. My body moved instinctively, years of repetition guiding each motion as I executed another series of slashes.
Nochtaris's voice rang in my mind, sharp and commanding as always. "Slash forward."
I obeyed instantly, stepping forward with my front foot and bending it slightly. My sword rose above my head in a smooth arc before I slashed forward, the motion quick and precise.
"Good—now change it. Vertical to the left. Put your focus on the right side!"
I didn't hesitate. Mid-slash, I adjusted my wrist and shifted the blade to a vertical path, fluid and seamless. My focus shifted to my right as though an imaginary opponent was moving there, just as he instructed.
"Behind you. Pierce!"
Using the momentum of my swing, I spun on my right foot, twisting my body to face what would've been an attacker at my back. My sword leveled with my sight, and I thrust forward sharply. It was over in an instant, each movement flowing into the next, unbroken. My breathing was steady despite the strain, and the soreness in my muscles from days of relentless training was becoming a familiar companion.
"Better." Nochtaris's approval, though rare, felt strangely satisfying. "But you still have a ways to go. Mastery isn't just about execution—it's about instinct. These movements need to happen without thought. Focus on the details. Where does your gaze fall when you pierce? How do you exhale when slashing vertically? These little things separate the masters from the fools."
He wasn't wrong. Nochtaris wasn't just drilling me to understand the basics; he wanted me to live them—to engrain them into my very being until I didn't just perform them, but embodied them. My slashes, thrusts, and footwork had to become second nature, executed flawlessly in any situation. He was relentless in his demands, his criticisms sharp and unapologetic, but he was right.
I paused for a moment, steadying my breath. Around me, a few of the soldiers were sparring or running drills of their own. Some spared glances my way, their expressions less mocking than they used to be. Months ago, they sneered or outright laughed when they saw me. Now, they watched silently, a few even attempting to mimic my movements. They weren't perfect, but their effort showed.
Korrin approached me, his presence as gruff as ever. The faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips hinted at approval, though he tried to hide it. "I'll admit, Kael. I thought this method of yours—whatever it is—was a waste of time at first. Looked more like meditation than training." He scratched his beard, his dark eyes narrowing as he looked me over. "But damn, if I wasn't wrong. That fluidity… not bad, kid. Not bad at all."
I chuckled softly, brushing a hand through my damp hair. "I wasn't sure either, honestly. Just following instructions."
"Yeah? Well, whoever's instructing you, they know their stuff," he said, his tone grudgingly impressed. He glanced back at the soldiers. "Even I'm not sure I can pull off those techniques the way you're doing them now."
That caught me off guard. Coming from Korrin, a seasoned warrior who'd spent years in battle, it meant something. But the truth was, I couldn't exactly explain to him how or why I'd improved so quickly. Nochtaris's guidance wasn't something I could share.
I offered a modest laugh. "I've just been sticking to the basics. Repeating them until they feel… natural."
"Natural, huh?" Korrin nodded. "It's working, whatever it is. But listen, training's one thing. Getting experience in real combat? That's something else entirely."
"I know." I sighed, lowering my blade. "But the captain's orders are clear. I can't leave the fortress to fight monsters, no matter how much I'd like to."
Korrin frowned but didn't argue. He turned to leave but glanced back over his shoulder. "Take care of yourself, Kael. You're pushing hard, and that's good—but don't forget to rest. Now that Liana's not here, I'm not sure anyone's keeping you in check. Don't overdo it."
His words hit somewhere deep, but I managed a smile. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me."
He left, heading back to the soldiers. Some of them looked my way, and I caught snippets of their conversation—talking about my progress, my techniques. It should've felt good to hear them praise me, but the truth was, I couldn't afford to care. Not yet.
I turned my attention inward, to Nochtaris, who had been silent during the exchange.
"You heard him. Even Korrin thinks I need experience to fully master these techniques."
"True enough," Nochtaris admitted, his voice contemplative. "But there's more to mastery than just fighting monsters. Now that you've reached a hundred meters in sensing mana, it's time to move forward. You'll begin your magic training."
I straightened, my exhaustion forgotten. "Magic training? You'll teach me to control the elements?"
"When you're ready, yes. Once you prove you can handle the basics of mana manipulation with elements, I'll teach you to control the Dark Element itself. That power will allow you to leave this fortress unnoticed and seek the battles you so desperately crave."
Excitement stirred within me, but I forced it down, nodding. "How long will it take?"
"Two, maybe three months."
I exhaled, half-relieved, half-impatient. Two to three months wasn't much time in the grand scheme of things, but it felt like eternity when I wanted so badly to grow stronger. Still, Nochtaris was right. Patience was essential.
It had been four months since Liana's departure, and I only had a year left of this punishment. But my plans for what came next required strength—strength I couldn't achieve under anyone's suspicion. That was why Nochtaris focused so intensely on my foundation. Each improvement in skill, technique, and precision went unnoticed in rank, but my true power was growing.
I smirked to myself. A year? Plenty of time.
For now, I'd focus on the basics, no matter how grueling. It wasn't just about surviving—it was about preparing for the future. Failure wasn't an option.