Days turned into weeks, and under Igaris's relentless guidance, Lilya's power grew at a speed that terrified anyone who caught even a glimpse.
At dawn, she practiced physical training. Igaris had her carry boulders larger than her body, sprint across rivers, and climb sheer cliffs with only her hands. At first, she cried and stumbled, her small body bruised and scraped. But each time she fell, Igaris stood silently, waiting. He never lifted her unless it was life-threatening. He let her rise on her own.
"You told me once you wanted to protect your parents," Igaris said one morning as Lilya collapsed after carrying a stone slab on her back. "Then remember that weakness will never let you protect anyone. Not them, not yourself."
Gritting her teeth, Lilya rose again, determination blazing in her eyes.
