Chapter 17 – Aric
Aric crouched behind the jagged rocks at the edge of the training field, eyes narrowing as he studied his father. Daren moved with a precision that seemed almost unnatural, every step calculated, every gesture flowing seamlessly into the next. Even the smallest flick of his wrist sent arcs of controlled mana slicing through the air, shaping reality in ways Aric could only begin to comprehend.
He had seen his father in action before, of course, but always in passing. Today was different. Today, Daren was preparing for a potential threat—an ambush orchestrated by system scouts that Aric had been warned about but not yet witnessed. It was a rare opportunity, one Aric had begged to be allowed to observe.
Daren's movements were methodical, almost hypnotic. He rotated his stance, and with a subtle motion, the wind seemed to bend around him. Aric's eyes widened—this was no ordinary magic. The way Daren blended elemental manipulation with martial discipline was beyond anything Aric had attempted in his own training. Every strike, every step, was a lesson in anticipation and control.
"Focus, Aric," Daren's voice rang out, calm yet commanding. "Observe the flow of power. The System monitors constantly. We cannot allow them to dictate how we move. Anticipation is your greatest weapon."
Aric's heartbeat quickened. He understood the words, but the sheer coordination of his father's movements made his mind reel. Each time Daren shifted, the currents of mana around him responded instantly—fire became wind, wind became stone, stone became water—an endless cycle of transformation, all under perfect command.
A sudden rustle in the distance drew Aric's attention. Several low-ranking system enforcers emerged, their forms glowing faintly with the characteristic shimmer of siphoned magic. They moved cautiously, sensing the hidden presence of their target.
Daren didn't flinch. With a subtle wave of his hand, a tendril of fire shot forward, cutting through the ground and knocking the enforcers off balance. He didn't strike to kill; every move was controlled, designed to neutralize while demonstrating technique. Aric's eyes followed each motion, committing every detail to memory.
"Watch their patterns," Daren instructed. "Every opponent, no matter how powerful, has rhythm. Learn it, exploit it, and you control the flow."
The enforcers regrouped and launched a coordinated strike. Daren shifted instantly, the air around him shimmering as he twisted his body mid-motion, absorbing their attack into a barrier of pure mana. Sparks and energy cascaded outward, but none touched him.
Aric gasped. He had practiced basic shields and evasions, but never anything so fluid. "Father… how do you—?"
"Control," Daren interrupted, without stopping his movements. "Control is not brute strength. It is understanding every variable: the opponent, the environment, the mana that flows through both. Without it, you are nothing but a tool to the System."
As the skirmish continued, Aric noted the subtle decisions Daren made: when to retreat, when to advance, when to let the enforcers believe they had the upper hand, and when to strike decisively. It was like watching a grand chessboard, each move meticulously planned yet adaptable.
The confrontation ended with the enforcers fleeing, disoriented and humiliated by Daren's superior skill. He lowered his hands, breathing evenly, his eyes locking onto Aric's.
"Remember this, Aric. Power without understanding is meaningless. Even the strongest Taboo, even the mightiest divine, fails if they cannot read the world around them. Observation is the foundation. Master it, and you begin to walk the path to true freedom."
Aric felt a spark ignite within him—a hunger not just for strength, but for comprehension. He wanted to move as fluidly as his father, to anticipate threats before they arose, and to shape his destiny with precision rather than brute force.
That day, Aric learned more from watching than he ever could have from books or lectures. Daren's combat was a language, and for the first time, Aric began to understand its grammar. Every step, every strike, every manipulation of mana told a story—a story he intended to master.
As the sun dipped toward the horizon, casting long shadows across the training field, Aric rose from his hiding place. He approached his father, resolve burning in his chest.
"I understand, Father. I will watch. I will learn. And one day… I will surpass even you."
Daren smiled faintly, a rare glimmer of pride softening his usual stoicism. "Perhaps, Aric. But remember… the path is long, and the world is unforgiving. Never forget that."