For as long as Barolt could remember, his world had been small—just four people.
His father, Adam.
His uncles, Hans and Bam.
And himself.
He had no mother, no extended family, no warm home full of relatives or comforting traditions passed down through generations. His world was simple: training, eating, and watching his father do things that no sane human should be capable of doing.
From a young age, Barolt had only one goal—to be strong like his father.
Adam wasn't just strong. He was unnatural. He could lift things no human should, disappear and reappear as if space itself meant nothing to him, and take on monsters far beyond human capabilities without breaking a sweat. His movements were precise, every step calculated, every strike devastating. Even his breathing seemed more efficient than a normal person's.
So Barolt tried to imitate him.
Of course, that didn't always go well.
He still remembered the first time he tried to mimic Adam's push-ups at five years old. He barely managed one before his arms gave out, and he collapsed face-first into the dirt. Hans and Bam had laughed so hard that Bam almost choked on his drink.
Adam, however, had merely looked at him and said, "You will do more tomorrow."
And he had.
But strength wasn't the only thing Barolt loved about his father.
Even though Adam never spoke about his past, there was something about him that made Barolt feel safe. A presence that felt unshakable, immovable, as if nothing in the world could make his father falter.
They didn't talk much, but when they did, Adam's words always stayed with him.
---
Candy and Secrets
Barolt's fondest childhood memories were the times Hans and Bam took him into town.
They were his uncles in everything but blood, looking after him when Adam was busy. Though his father strictly controlled his diet, Hans and Bam had a habit of sneaking him candy behind Adam's back.
"Here, kid." Hans had once said, shoving a small bag of sweets into his hands. "Just don't tell your old man, or we're dead."
Barolt had happily stuffed his face, enjoying the rare treat.
But that night… Adam had stared at him for an uncomfortable amount of time during dinner.
"…You ate sugar," Adam said flatly.
Barolt choked on his food. "N-No!"
Adam squinted at him. "Your energy control is off."
Barolt froze. What?
How did his father notice something like that just from looking at him?
"…Go run ten laps."
That day, he learned two things:
1. Adam had supernatural levels of perception.
2. Hans and Bam were cowards because they immediately betrayed him when Adam asked.
---
A True Warrior is Forged in the Face of Death
Now at nine years old, Barolt's training had officially begun.
Hans and Bam had already reached B-rank, yet Adam still called them too slow. Barolt had seen firsthand how much they improved under his father's training, and now it was his turn.
Unlike Hans and Bam, however… Barolt was Adam's son.
That meant his training was going to be absolute hell.
And Adam did not disappoint.
---
Day One of Training: Poison
"Eat it."
Barolt stared at the small vial of poison in his father's hand. "…What?"
"I said eat it."
Hans and Bam, who were watching, immediately took a step back as if poison could spread through the air.
Barolt narrowed his eyes. "Are you trying to kill me?"
"If I wanted to kill you, you'd already be dead."
"…" That was not reassuring.
Adam sighed as if explaining something simple to a fool. "Your body is weak. Poison resistance is important. If your cells learn to process toxins, you'll have a stronger immune system, better energy flow, and an overall tougher constitution."
"That… doesn't sound real."
"Are you questioning me?"
Barolt looked at Hans and Bam, hoping for support. They both shook their heads violently, stepping further away as if distancing themselves from his inevitable death.
"…Fine." Barolt sighed, grabbed the vial, and downed it in one go.
For five seconds, nothing happened.
Then—
"AAAAAARGH!!"
His entire body caught on fire from the inside. His stomach twisted, his vision blurred, and he collapsed to the ground, barely keeping himself from vomiting.
Adam stood over him, nodding approvingly.
"Good. Now meditate."
Barolt twitched. "M-Meditate?! I'M DYING—!!"
Adam raised an eyebrow. "You're talking, so you're not dying."
"…What kind of logic is that?!"
"Your body is already adapting. If you die, it means you were weak."
Barolt wanted to punch him.
But even through the agony, he felt it.
Something inside him was changing. His body was fighting the poison, breaking it down, absorbing something from it. His breathing slowed, his mind cleared, and he could sense a strange energy running through his veins.
It wasn't mana. Not yet.
But it was something.
"…I almost forgot," Adam mused, watching him struggle. "A true warrior is forged in the face of death."
Barolt had never hated a sentence more in his life.
---
Day Two: The Volcano
Barolt barely survived the poison training. The next day, Adam took him to a volcano.
Yes.
An actual volcano.
Barolt looked at the bubbling lava below. Then at his father. "You want me to die, don't you?"
"Stop whining." Adam crossed his arms. "Extreme heat is good for strengthening the body."
Hans and Bam stood far away, watching in horrified fascination.
Barolt wiped sweat from his forehead. "Father. This is a volcano. A literal volcano."
"And?"
"…Normal people don't train in volcanoes!"
"Normal people are weak."
"…"
Adam kicked him.
Barolt flew off the ledge—
For a brief moment, he thought, [Ah. I'm dead.]
Then, before he could touch the lava, Adam grabbed his collar and yanked him back.
"…You were too slow," Adam said.
Barolt panted, heart racing. "You… you actually threw me off!!"
"I was testing your reflexes."
"THAT'S NOT HOW YOU TEST REFLEXES!!"
Hans and Bam were laughing so hard that they collapsed.
Adam simply nodded to himself. "We'll do this again tomorrow."
---
Barolt's Growth
Despite the insanity of his training, Barolt began to change.
His body became tougher. His senses sharper. He started to feel something within him—a force that wasn't mana but wasn't normal either. It moved through his body, circulating on its own, strengthening him in ways he didn't understand.
His father said nothing about it.
But he was watching.
And for the first time, Barolt felt a strange excitement.
This… this was the path to true strength.
And he wasn't going to stop.
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