A month of my tortures — which, by some misunderstanding, are called training — had passed. Why didn't I just leave? Honestly, I wanted to. I even said so, loudly, on the third day. Furinji just shrugged at my long, indignant rant — where only the prepositions were clean — and told me, calmly, that no one was keeping me here.
Black was even more concise: "You need this, not me."
I understood there might never be another chance like this. There wasn't exactly a line of masters waiting to teach me. So, I had only two choices: endure, or lose the opportunity to learn something new.
When I finally calmed down and thought it through, we resumed training. It only got harder and more inventive. I couldn't even check my progress — I was forbidden to use yoga, under threat of death. Not from Hayato, but from myself. Supposedly, my body couldn't handle it yet.
And I learned their fears weren't groundless.
But it wasn't just endless physical drills. I also studied the theory of ki control, which was different from what I knew. After lunch, Black would teach me ritualism, charms, runes, numerology — everything related to artifacting. In those classes, I could finally rest, both body and soul.
I even had weekends, once a week. We'd portkey to Beauxbatons, where I'd walk with friends, talk with Ariel, and just enjoy myself. Bright days in my otherwise harsh routine.
Then, one fine day, after another torment — a march in enchanted bracers, leg guards, and a belt I'd enchanted myself, all of which increased weight and created resistance to every movement — something strange happened.
When I finally took off the equipment and the cold iron bracelets, my body started acting weird, absorbing magical energy like a sponge. I barely managed to gulp down some potions, shout for help, and sit in a meditation pose, drawing in as much external ether as I could. I was scared out of my mind, afraid my own body would drain me dry.
***
A young man in training clothes, his new muscles visible, sat on the bed with a tense face. His light hair fluttered in an invisible wind. Suddenly, two very different men appeared in the room — a thin old man and a muscular giant. The first arrived with a pop, the second seemed to simply materialize.
"Has it started?" Black asked, tense.
"Yes, he's broken through his limit. Finally, his body will be able to contain all his ki," the giant replied, calm as ever.
"Will he be alright?"
"Believe in your student, Phineas. Everything depends on him now."
***
I didn't notice how I slipped into a trance, watching my cells absorb mana and become… stronger? No, not stronger — more correct, as if this was how they were always meant to be. I didn't try to interfere. Instinctively, I knew I'd only mess things up.
It felt like everything was happening naturally, as if set in motion by nature, the gods, or the universe itself. The only thing I could do was absorb as much ether as possible and convert it into my own mana.
Suddenly, I saw how many cells just couldn't handle the load and started bursting, like popcorn. I converted part of the magical flow into prana, spreading that life-giving energy through my body to compensate for the constant destruction.
If this kept up, I was afraid Ryozanpaku would become a magic-depleted zone for a long time — I was absorbing so much ether.
Finally, after who knows how long, my cells were saturated. I could feel my body and my other shells becoming more tightly connected. When I opened my eyes, Black and Furinji were standing over me.
"Hello, teachers. What just happened to me? Judging by your faces, you know everything."
"I told you, Arthur, you learned to run before you could walk," Hayato said, sitting in an armchair I'd conjured, just like everything else in the room. "Your body couldn't handle the level of enhancement you had. You were just hurting yourself. If you weren't a mage, and didn't have that healing of yours, you'd be disabled by sixteen."
"I'm afraid your training would have made me disabled much sooner," I said, half-joking, half-nervous.
"So it would have," he replied, not the least bit embarrassed, "if not for the potions and your healing. Do you think I'd torture you like this if you didn't have that support? Ordinary masters train from childhood and only reach their limit in adolescence, or even later. You were already well-trained, and you're from a magical race, so you just needed a push."
"What now? Are the trainings over?" I asked.
"Yes, there's no point exhausting yourself with physical training in the bracelets anymore. But if you want to get even stronger, you'll still need to exercise. For example, your training artifact is perfect for improving your enhancement abilities. It's adjustable, right?" Furinji nodded at the leg guards, belt, and bracers.
"Yes, the more mana you put in, the heavier they get."
"There you go. You'll keep improving your control — and there's always room for improvement. When you get used to it, we'll start your real training."
"Wait, what? We haven't been training?"
"What are you talking about? We were just correcting your deficiency. You don't know a single technique. How do you think we fought mages? Just hit harder? Any shield against physical attacks, and you're useless."
"Enough," Black interrupted. "Let Arthur rest today. You said yourself — rest…"
"…is as important as training, I know. Fine, I won't bother you today. But tomorrow, I expect you at the training ground, in uniform." With that, he simply vanished. Or rather, he moved so fast I couldn't follow.
Black disappeared with a pop, relief clear on his face. I didn't rest, though — my body was overflowing with energy. I went out to the yard and transfigured a wooden makiwara.
Out of habit, I started strengthening my body. The more mana I poured in, the more shocked I became — there seemed to be no limit! Now I understood what limit I'd broken through.
Although, at my level, there probably isn't a limit — my reserve, while higher than the average magic school graduate, is still ten times smaller than Goyle's or Black's.
I didn't put much into my first strike, just to be safe. Even so, after a loud clap, the makiwara didn't just splinter — it turned to dust. Only after a moment did I realize the clap was the sound barrier breaking.
My hand ached, but a minor healing charm fixed it. Pure prana is more expensive and less effective for that.
I entertained myself for a long time, jumping thirty meters high, running at race car speed, crashing into things, then fixing them with magic. Only after a couple of hours did I come to my senses and clear my mind with magic.
Yeah, apparently a lot of prana and mana is good for the brain. But it was fun, especially when Pixie joined in, frowning and puffing her cheeks when she couldn't catch me.
***
The next morning, I got up early and did exercises in my armor. Without cold iron, it wasn't painful or exhausting — just a pleasant load. It was especially funny to see how I sank into the soil, leaving deep tracks. When I ran, I left little craters.
I had to clean up after myself again. I should ask Hayato how he manages to move at such speeds and jump without destroying roads… houses… cities… yeah.
"I see you've had your fun?" Hayato asked, twirling his mustache with a smirk. "I get it, I was the same. Don't forget to strengthen yourself to the limit at least once a month."
"Why?"
"Your ki will keep growing, and for your body to keep up, you'll need to release all your strength. Otherwise, you'll end up like you did a month ago." I shuddered. Go through that hell again? No, thank you! "Anyway, today we start learning techniques and practicing strikes. You're not ready for the serious stuff yet, so we'll keep building the basics."
"Excuse me, sensei, but why do I need techniques?" I asked, honestly confused.
"Ohohoh, you think you're so strong you don't need them?" He smiled kindly, and I got goosebumps.
"No, I know I'm much dumber than you about this. I just want to understand."
"Good, good. At first you said, 'I don't need all this, I want to go home, wave my wand' — remember?" I shrugged. "Well, it's better to show than to tell. Attack."
"With just my hands?" I clarified.
"With whatever you want."
So I unleashed a whole fan of spells — stunning, paralyzing, cutting, igniting, and more. The giant dodged them all, moving with a predatory grace, letting the beams pass within millimeters. Sometimes he stepped back if I used area spells.
Transfiguration was useless — I couldn't conjure a rope, vine, or stone before Furinji was already somewhere else. Any living creatures I created were destroyed with a single poke. Even steel and titanium-tungsten ones.
Then I played my trump card — I'd managed to load "Bombarda Maxima" into one of my wand's crystals, and as long as there was mana, I could fire it like a machine gun.
That's when I saw Hayato's true power for the first time. He simply raised his hand, covered in a shimmering magical field, and blocked all my spells with his palm, neutralizing them like swatting mosquitoes.
Realizing my wand was useless, I strengthened myself to the limit and rushed forward, leaving explosions of earth behind me. I'd never felt air so thick and heavy, like jelly.
He caught my first punch in his palm. And the second, third, and every one after. He seemed to know where I'd strike before I did. When I tried to kick, he caught my leg and lifted me off the ground.
"Do you understand your mistake?" He let me go, and I rolled, dusting myself off.
"That you're too strong?"
"No, I fought at your level of reaction and strength. What you lack is skill and experience."
"Teach me, sensei," I said, bowing slightly. I knew he only needed one strike to not just defeat me, but grind me to dust.
"Hohohoh, what a flatterer. Well, let's start with your stance…"
So they began teaching me the basics every student should know. I was apparently unique — I could control my body almost like a weak master, but without any of the skills.
We started with stances, then basic strikes, which I'd already practiced during my hellish month. Then we reinforced everything with combat experience. Not just with Hayato, but with Phineas, who constantly rolled me with his charms, thanks to his shield against physical attacks.
And as for combat magic — a couple of seconds, and I'd wake up in bed. Like I said, you can't do anything against him without special techniques.
***
Another two weeks passed in this calmer style. After the breakthrough, both my yoga and metamorphism improved. Thanks to that, and mind magic, I memorized techniques and stances quickly — it was enough to repeat them a couple of times, correct mistakes, and sparring hammered them in for good.
We were fighting again — well, "fighting." I was trying to hit Furinji with everything I had: hands, feet, elbows, head, my whole body. He fended me off like a cat playing with a mouse, not even trying. He even did it with one finger, sitting on the ground and sipping tea.
That might have made someone angry, but not me. I'd long since accepted that he was on another level.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door and Hayato vanished. A few minutes later, he returned with a young, handsome, and muscular man — the same light hair and blue eyes as the giant. He wore a cheerful Hawaiian shirt and shorts.
Next to him walked a smiling brunette with green eyes and a full chest. Her belly, round beneath a fitted blue dress, made it clear she was pregnant. Furinji Saiga and Shizuha — the son and daughter-in-law of the head of Ryozanpaku.
Then the two men disappeared together, and somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled.
"Boys," Miura snorted.
"The first forty years of childhood are the hardest for a man," I replied, and the girl burst into ringing laughter. "Let's go inside before they come back. There's no sense standing around."
"Don't think that just because I'm pregnant, I'm also a martial arts master." She raised a finger, following me anyway.
"Even martial arts masters need someone to take care of them."
"Your words to Saiga's ears." She sighed, but didn't continue.
Soon, the two fighters returned, perfectly clean and smiling. They only lacked scuffing their toes on the ground. I decided to look at our guests with true sight — something was bothering me.
And I was right. Saiga was stained with darkness. Not like Goyle, but still noticeably. In contrast, Shizuha was absolutely pure and bright, and a small knot of light shone just below her belly.
But I had nothing against darkness — maybe he killed villains and didn't like it? At that moment, it didn't worry me much, though I did mention it to the thoughtful Hayato.
But who could have known what that would lead to?
***
[image: Saiga]
[image: Shizuha]
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Thank you for the help with the power stones!!!