The forest had fallen silent as night settled in, the house feeling unusually quiet as Kiyoshi lay on his bed, staring at the wooden ceiling, attempting to focus on something other than the storm of thoughts that flooded his mind. His training with Ceng-tae had intensified; shifting in the bed, trying to relax, he could feel his muscles aching as he fought to get comfortable.
Finally, exhaustion took hold, and Kiyoshi drifted off into an uneasy sleep.
And then, the nightmare began…
Darkness.
It wasn't just around him; it was inside him. It clawed at his chest. Sinking deeper into this swirling void, every thought suffocated, his body left paralyzed, suspended in an endless fall. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't scream.
Then, faint sounds reached his ears. Distant at first, like echoes through a tunnel, but they grew louder with each passing second.
Screams.
The sound of clashing steel.
The roar of something monstrous—something he couldn't even imagine.
Suddenly, he was standing in the middle of a battlefield, surrounded by chaos. Thick smoke choked the air; its acrid scent stung his throat. Through the murky haze, shadowed figures clashed—blades flashing in the gloom. Bodies fell, blood stained the earth, and flames burned brightly, devouring everything in their path.
The screams… they echoed, growing louder, as if the voices were calling out to him.
"Where… where am I? What's happening?" Kiyoshi's voice caught in his throat as he tried to scream, but the chaos drowned him out.
He stumbled, helpless, as the ground beneath his feet shook. Everything felt wrong—like puzzle pieces that didn't fit, yet he couldn't stop searching. Panic surged through him as he tried to move, tried to escape, but his feet were rooted to the spot, held in place by an unseen force.
And then he saw it—a figure standing amidst the destruction.
Tall and imposing, the mana surrounding the figure was intense, enough to make Kiyoshi's heart race. With just a simple lift of a hand and a mere gesture, the battlefield seemed to bend at its will. Soldiers collapsed, the ground cracked, and none dared to impose.
Who is that? Kiyoshi thought, his eyes locked on the figure. But deep down, he already knew the answer.
The figure turned, and though its face was obscured, Kiyoshi could feel the weight of its gaze. A cruel smile sat on its lips as it raised its hand again. Darkness poured from its fingertips, swirling around him like a storm, consuming everything in its path.
Kiyoshi tried to scream and run, but the darkness closed in, swallowing him whole.
"𝙰𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐."
Kiyoshi jolted awake, a strangled gasp tearing from his throat. His body was drenched in sweat, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. But the nightmare didn't end with consciousness.
The room was freezing. The familiar, comforting shadows of the moonlit room were now deep, swallowing pools of absolute blackness that seemed to drink the light. A suffocating Silence pressed in on his eardrums, so complete he could hear the frantic beat of his own heart—a sound that was suddenly, terrifyingly, the only sound in the world.
He tried to sit up, but a wave of psychic Pain—a raw, amplified echo of every blow from Ceng-tae—lanced through his muscles, making them seize. The wooden frame of his bed groaned under a sudden, invisible Pressure.
This isn't a dream.
His terror, his confusion, his raw power—it was all leaking out. Uncontrolled. The concepts from his nightmare were manifesting in the waking world.
"Kiyoshi?"
Ceng-tae's voice should have been a comfort. Instead, it was a sharp crack in the perfect Silence, making Kiyoshi flinch. His mentor stood in the doorway, not with sleep in his eyes, but with sharp, alarmed awareness. His gaze swept the room, taking in the unnaturally deep shadows, the frost forming on the windowsill, the way the very air felt heavy and still.
"What did you see, boy?" Ceng-tae's voice was low, urgent, cutting through the magical dissonance. It wasn't a question of what was wrong, but a demand for the source.
Kiyoshi pressed a hand to his chest, trying to calm his racing heart. The images from the dream were still vivid in his mind—the figure, the destruction. "I had a dream… well, it was more like a nightmare." He swallowed, the taste of blood and smoke somehow still on his tongue. "A battlefield. A figure… with so much power. It felt… real. Like I was there before."
Here's your excerpt cleaned into webnovel format (plain, no fancy text, all your words kept):
Ceng-tae's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't press for details. Instead, he stepped into the room, his presence seeming to push back against the oppressive atmosphere.
"Nightmares can be the mind's way of remembering things we've forgotten."
He placed a steadying hand on Kiyoshi's shoulder, and the seizing Pain in his muscles abruptly faded. The old man was subtly using his own power to counteract the manifestations.
Kiyoshi had a puzzled look on his face, his thoughts racing.
"But I don't remember any of it... the battlefield, the figure... it felt like I was there, like I had lived through it."
Ceng-tae remained silent for a long moment, his gaze drifting to a crack that had splintered the wall near Kiyoshi's bed.
"Dreams are strange things, Kiyoshi," he said, his voice heavy. "They can be fragments of the past, the future, or something else entirely."
He met Kiyoshi's eyes, his expression unreadable but intense.
"But some doors, once opened, cannot be easily closed. For now, it's best not to dwell on it."
Kiyoshi wanted to push for answers, but the evidence of his own power was all around them. The heaviness in Ceng-tae's tone wasn't just a warning; it was a confirmation. This was real.
"Try to get some rest," Ceng-tae said finally, turning to leave. The unnatural Silence had lifted, replaced by the normal, gentle sounds of the night. The shadows had receded to their proper places. "We'll continue training in the morning."
Kiyoshi watched him go, his mind still swirling with questions. The dream had felt too real to be dismissed so easily. And the figure—the one who had commanded such power—there was something disturbingly familiar about him.
Who was it? Kiyoshi thought as he laid back down, staring up at the ceiling. The final, terrifying question echoed in the newfound quiet of his mind, a question born not of vague dreams, but of tangible, reality-warping power.
And why did it feel like... me?
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"The Shadow Within."
The next morning, Kiyoshi moved through his training in a daze. His body went through the motions—sword strikes, mana control, reflex drills—but his mind kept drifting back to the dream. Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw the battlefield, the destruction... the figure.
"Kiyoshi," Ceng-tae's voice cut through the fog, sharp and commanding. "Focus."
Kiyoshi blinked, realizing he had stopped mid-strike. He gritted his teeth, frustrated with himself. "Sorry."
Ceng-tae studied him for a long moment before speaking again. "Something is bothering you."
It wasn't a question, but Kiyoshi nodded anyway. "The dream... it felt like a memory. Like something I should remember but can't."
Ceng-tae's expression softened slightly, though his tone remained firm. "Dreams can be deceiving. Don't let them cloud your judgment."
Kiyoshi clenched his fist, feeling the frustration bubble up inside him. "But what if it's more than a dream?" he insisted, his voice dropping. "What if it's connected to who I really am? What if... what if I'm the reason that room went cold last night?"
Ceng-tae was silent for a moment, his gaze unwavering. "In time, the answers will come. But for now, you need to focus on the present. On control." He gestured to the training clearing around them. "What happened last night... that is the true enemy. Not a forgotten past, but an uncontrolled present."
Kiyoshi wanted to demand answers, but he knew it would be futile. Ceng-tae wasn't just teaching him to fight anymore. He was teaching him to survive himself.
With a sigh, he nodded and returned to his training, the weight of his own power feeling heavier than any wooden sword.
──⊱◈◈⊰───⊱◈◈⊰──⊱◈◈⊰──⊱◈◈⊰──