Chapter 4
Alex woke up feeling like he'd been dragged through the dirt and tossed into a river. His limbs felt stiff, his head was pounding, and there was a deep ache in his chest. It wasn't the normal kind of exhaustion—this was something else. Something deeper.
"Ugh… what the hell…" His voice came out hoarse, his throat dry. His body felt heavy, like every muscle had been drained of strength.
Then it hit him—meditation. The second round. He had pushed further, trying to grasp control over the mana in his body, and the next thing he knew, darkness.
He blinked, eyes adjusting to the dim room. The soft light of morning barely seeped through the small window. He was still in his bed, tucked under thick blankets. His mother's doing, no doubt. That also meant…
Creak.
The door opened slightly, and sure enough, his mother peeked in. She hesitated, probably checking if he was still out cold, then let out a quiet sigh of relief before stepping back and closing the door.
Alex exhaled. So she has been checking on me. Not surprising. Passing out wasn't exactly normal behavior.
He pushed himself up slowly, wincing as a sharp pain pulsed in his chest. His mana core—it wasn't just a concept now. He could feel it. A faint warmth, deep within, pulsing ever so lightly. Before, he had only caught glimpses of it during meditation, but now it was unmistakable.
He placed a hand over his chest. It was weak, almost fragile, but it was there.
Progress.
A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "So, I didn't completely screw up, huh?"
But that wasn't the only thing he noticed. His senses felt… different. More refined. He could hear the faint crackling of the fire downstairs, smell the faint scent of baked bread from the kitchen. Even the air around him felt subtly different, like he was more aware of it.
Is this what they meant by developing magical talent?
He had read about it in the book—how training the mana core not only strengthened magic but also enhanced the body's connection to the world. He hadn't expected to feel anything this soon, though.
Still, this came with a price. His body was drained, and his head felt like it had been used as a training dummy. If this was the aftermath of a single night's overexertion, what would happen if he went further? Would he pass out for days? Would his body break under the strain?
He leaned back, staring at the ceiling. Patience. I need patience.
One day of training had already pushed him this far. Rushing it would only get him killed—or worse, crippled. He had no interest in turning himself into a mana-wrecked idiot.
But at the same time…
His fingers curled into a fist.
The potential is real.
For the first time, he felt like he wasn't just grasping at dreams. This world wasn't just some fantasy setting where magic was handed out like candy. It was something that required effort, precision, control.
Like Fang Yuan refining his first Gu, or Klein carefully experimenting with Beyonder potions—one mistake, and the consequences would be severe.
He exhaled through his nose, feeling the faint warmth in his core again.
One year. That's what he'd give himself. One year to lay the foundation, to train in secret, to understand magic on his own terms.
Because once the world knew what he was capable of, there was no turning back.