Kairo stood silently in the center of the training room, his amethyst eyes fixed on Roderick. The man towered over him, his cold, aloof demeanor as impenetrable as ever. Kairo had learned early on not to expect warmth from him—or anyone else here.
"Before you can do anything with Nen, you need to understand one thing: Ten," Roderick said, pacing slowly. His voice was calm but carried an unmistakable edge of authority. "Ten is the foundation. The first principle. Without it, your aura is as useless as you are right now."
The insult wasn't lost on Kairo, but he didn't flinch. He'd learned to keep his emotions hidden, to absorb every word without letting his frustration show.
"What is Ten?" Roderick continued, his gaze narrowing. "It's the ability to shroud your body in your own aura. It protects you from external forces and prevents your energy from leaking out like a broken faucet. It's your first shield, and without it, you'll crumble the moment you face a real opponent."
Kairo nodded, committing the explanation to memory. Aura as a shield, he thought. Keep it close. Keep it steady.
Roderick stopped pacing and crossed his arms. "Now, focus on your breath. Find your energy and guide it outward. Don't force it. Let it flow naturally."
Kairo closed his eyes, taking a slow, deep breath. He felt the faint hum of his aura, like static at the edge of his awareness. He tried to coax it outward, picturing it as a thin veil around his body.
Nothing happened.
"You're forcing it," Roderick said sharply. "Your aura isn't a tool you can bend to your will. It's part of you. Stop overthinking it."
Kairo opened his eyes, frowning. He replayed the attempt in his mind, analyzing every step. What went wrong? Was my focus off? My breathing?
"Try again," Roderick ordered, stepping back.
This time, Kairo let go of the rigid control he'd tried to exert before. He took another breath, slower this time, and allowed his energy to flow naturally. He felt a faint warmth begin to spread, fragile but present.
"Better," Roderick said, though his tone remained cold. "But it's still weak. If that's all you've got, you're dead the moment someone touches you."
The next day, Kairo returned to the training room, determined to improve. His first attempts had been clumsy, but now he had a starting point. He closed his eyes and focused again, repeating the process until the faint warmth of his aura became more consistent.
By the third day, he could maintain it for several minutes without interruption.
"It's progress," Roderick said, observing him with a critical eye. "But progress means nothing if you can't sustain it. You'll hold it for an hour today. No excuses."
Kairo's eyes widened. "An hour?"
"You heard me," Roderick replied, his tone as cold as ever. "And don't let it flicker. If it breaks, you start over."
The challenge was grueling. The first ten minutes passed smoothly, but the strain quickly set in. Beads of sweat formed on Kairo's forehead, and his breathing grew shallow. His aura wavered, flickering like a dying flame.
"Focus," Roderick barked. "Your shield is only as strong as your discipline."
Kairo grit his teeth, pushing through the fatigue. He adjusted his posture, straightening his back to ease the strain. He deepened his breathing, letting the flow of his aura stabilize.
By the time the hour ended, his body was trembling, but his aura held firm.
"Not bad," Roderick said, though his tone was far from complimentary. "But don't think this means anything. Ten is the bare minimum. Without it, you're nothing. With it, you're slightly less than nothing."
Over the next two weeks, Kairo's training continued. Each day brought new challenges, and Roderick showed no mercy in his methods. Surprise attacks tested Kairo's endurance and reflexes, forcing him to adapt.
At first, Kairo's aura broke under the pressure, leaving him sprawled on the cold floor. But he never repeated the same mistake. With each failure, he analyzed what had gone wrong, adjusting his technique until his aura became an impenetrable shield.
"You're learning," Roderick admitted grudgingly on the tenth day. "Faster than most. But don't let it get to your head. Ten is just the beginning. If you can't master it, the rest doesn't matter."
Kairo didn't reply. He was too busy committing every detail of the training to memory. By the end of the second week, he could maintain his aura effortlessly, even under Roderick's relentless attacks.
As Roderick left the room one evening, Kairo sank to the floor, his body aching but his mind sharp. He had taken another step forward, his understanding of Nen growing with each passing day.
In the quiet of the training room, he allowed himself a rare moment of reflection. If Ten was the foundation, what came next?
One thing was certain: he wouldn't stop until he found out.