Following Grimm's instructions, Kael headed down to the training area at the first light of dawn. Grimm's
"physical conditioning" program was far more grueling than he had imagined. As part of his morning routine, Grimm had ordered Kael to run a full 10 kilometers and then swing the wooden sword in his hand 2,000 times. By the 1,000th swing, Kael's arms felt heavy.
Just then, Grimm appeared beside him like a shadow. "You're slowing down," he said, his voice as sharp and cold as a blade. Grimm tapped Kael's posture with the thin wooden stick in his hand, correcting a millimeter-perfect flaw. The strike was so fast that Kael could only react once he felt the impact.
"Don't just swing the sword—feel as though you are one with it. If that sword isn't an extension of your body, it's nothing but a piece of wood," said Grimm. Just as Kael was about to take a breath, the famous Warrior aura surrounding Grimm suddenly intensified. Kael felt as though he were facing not a human, but a creature.
Under the pressure, his knees were about to give way. As the immense pressure Grimm radiated
crashed down on Kael's shoulders, his mind began to cloud. Just as he was about to give up and
kneel, the final image of his village engulfed in flames and his mother's gaze as she bid him farewell flashed before his eyes. He had vowed to himself that he would never lose anything again, that he would never be helpless again.
Kael clenched his teeth, straightened up despite his trembling legs, and gripped the wooden sword tighter. Grimm whispered, staring into Kael's eyes: "When death is at your neck, fatigue is
a luxury. Now, make those remaining 1,000 swings as if each were the final move to save your life! Begin!"
Kael felt the blood in his veins boil anew under Grimm's cold yet compelling force. His fear instantly turned to rage. He began to make those 1,000 swings not just with his arms, but with e
very ounce of his will.
By the time Kael had run until his lungs burned and swung his sword until his arms were spent, he was soaked through with sweat. After a brief catch of his breath, he made his way to the
manor's garden for Pyros's lesson.
When he reached the garden, he found Pyros waiting there with a gleaming, metallic figure by his side. Kael asked in astonishment, "Master, what is this?"
Pyros proudly pointed to the figure beside him. "This is our training dummy, my boy. It's made entirely of Mithril ore.
Mithril is the most magic-resistant material; that's why we'll use this to measure the true power of your spells and push your limits.
Yes, today we'll discuss the most fundamental yet most overlooked topic in the world of magic:
'Magic Density.'"
Pyros formed a simple, Level 1 fireball in his palm.
"Now watch closely,"
Before Kael's eyes, that small fireball transformed into a massive mass. Pyros hurled the roaring,
massive flame at the mithril golem. The heat from the explosion, spreading in all directions, took Kael's breath away; when the dust cloud cleared, an astonishing sight greeted them: The
massive fireball had exploded, yet there wasn't even a single scratch on the mithril golem.
This time, Pyros created a tiny fireball, no bigger than a walnut. However, this flame was far brighter and denser than the previous one. The moment the small sphere touched the puppet, a terrifying explosion shook the garden. The destruction was far greater than that caused by the massive mass just moments before. Kael recoiled in shock.
"I understand your confusion," Pyros said calmly.
"There's a common misconception about magic: the bigger it is, the more powerful it is. But true power lies at the core of the spell."
Pyros conjured a small flame in his palm again and held it close to Kael.
"Do you see that deep red at the center? That is the core of the magic. Instead of spreading the mana over a wide area, if you compress it into that center, you can launch devastating attacks even with a first-tier spell. The more you focus and channel mana, the more destructive the explosion becomes."
The pieces were starting to fall into place in Kael's mind. Pyros continued:
"I call this the 'Fire Bullet.' Because it possesses a piercing, focused power just like a bullet."
Pyros extended his hand, and dozens of small fire bullets appeared around him. He fired them all at once, in a volley, at the puppet. Seeing that even the magic-resistant mithril was beginning to wear down under this barrage, Kael was in awe. It was incredible that a 6th-ring mage could control so many bullets at once.
"Will I ever be this strong one day?" he wondered to himself.
Pyros, noticing Kael had zoned out, raised his voice: "Pay attention to the lesson, Kael!"
"Yes, Master, I'm sorry. It was truly amazing, but I don't think I could even control a single one," Kael said in a sheepish tone.
"With enough practice, you can do it. First, we'll learn to control two fireballs at the same time. Once you have full mastery, we'll move on to three, four, five. This training isn't just for fireballs—it's essential for controlling the high-level spells you'll learn later. And then there's the matter of 'Spoken Spells'..."
"Kael, beginner-level mages generally use verbal spells—that is, Mantras—to focus. You can cast silent spells up to the 2nd circle; that's an amazing ability. However, high-level spells strain the laws of nature, so they require 'Ancient Words'—a divine order. Now watch closely; I'll show you a 5th-circle verbal spell. Imprint the mantra and the staff's movements into your mind."
Pyros pointed his staff at the mithril golem. The air around him suddenly heated up, and the wind began to reverse direction. A silence fell as if the air had been vacuumed away. The mana surrounding Pyros began to swirl in visible crimson streaks, and his robe lifted into the air under an invisible pressure. Pyros murmured the ancient mantra in a deep voice:
"O essence of eternal fire, unite with the spirit of fire! Seal the fury of the unquenchable flame into my enemy's heart: Inferno Strike!"
The mana gathered at the tip of the staff first shone as brightly as a tiny sun, then erupted as a
pure, brilliant white beam of energy, shooting toward the mithril golem. The light was so intense that Kael had to close his eyes. The shockwave created when the blast struck the golem stripped
the leaves from the trees in the garden. When the dust and smoke cleared, the chest plate of the mithril golem—said to be the most resistant to magic—glowed like a crimson ember. Kael was utterly speechless in the face of the destructive power of the 5th-tier spell.
At the end of the lesson, Pyros's eye caught the black dot in Kael's palm. "Kael, did you draw that dot on your hand?"
"No, Master," said Kael. "My mother drew it to help me focus while she was teaching me magic."
Pyros smiled in surprise. "This technique is very different from what's taught in the academies, but it makes incredible sense. Your mother was truly a wise teacher."
"Thank you, Master. I owe my foundation to her."
After training ended, Kael stayed behind on the practice field to work on the "Fire Bullet" on his own. However, as he infused mana into the core, the flame trembled in his palm, making it
harder to control. He couldn't fully concentrate because he was afraid it would explode. Just then, he felt a gust of wind whiz past him like a jet; a blast tore the dummy to pieces.
Zephyros approached with a smile. "Working on a magic bullet, kid?"
"Ah, Uncle... Master Pyros showed me today, but mine isn't turning out like his. The more I focus, the more it feels like it's going to explode in my hand."
Zephyros placed his hand on his nephew's shoulder. "That fear is natural, Kael. The whole point of control in magic is to avoid harming ourselves. It's good that you're aware of that. As your
body and spirit develop, that fear will give way to confidence. But you look exhausted; you need to know your limits—we don't want you passing out and collapsing here," he said with a laugh.
"You're right, Uncle. I think I'm starving."
Zephyros cheerfully led the way: "Ha ha! Come on, then—let's see what kind of feast Elias has prepared for us!"