Esky’s voice echoed across the quiet of the gathered giants.

  “Like Alvatik said… what do we have to lose?”

  She stepped forward, her light beige skin catching the last glow of the dying sun. Her eyes—sharp and ancient—locked onto Valerius as he hung in Alvatik’s palm, bruised and silent.

  “Whatever dwells inside him,” she continued, “he clearly cannot wield it. But I can train him. I… can tame him.”

  And far away, in another realm.

  A being smiled.

  Esky asked, “What is your name?”

  Valerius blinked. Her words were unintelligible—a language unlike any he had heard.

  “Uh… I don’t understand what you’re saying,” he muttered.

  One of the giants in the crowd chuckled. “He’s speaking Stern.”

  Esky’s gaze didn’t waver. She adjusted her tone, her voice now fluent and smooth in the tongue called Stern.

  “I said… What is your name?”

  Valerius hesitated, then cleared his throat. “Lerius.”

  A smile touched her lips. “Very well, Lerius. From this moment forward, you are a member of Steadfast Might. You will learn our techniques. If you survive… and you manage to master all we give you…” she leaned forward, her voice colder now, “then you will do one thing for us. Just one.”

  Valerius narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean if I survive?”

  Esky’s expression turned serious. “Because what lies ahead will be gruesome. Agonizing. You will wish you were dead. But if you endure it… you will become mighty.”

  Valerius lowered his gaze for a moment. The wind howled across the cliffside behind them.

  This world... I’m tired of it tossing me around.

  Tired of being at the mercy of others.

  Weak. Broken. Chased. Devoured.

  No more.

  He clenched his fists.

  If they wanted to kill me, he thought, they would’ve done it already. Maybe I will die. But what’s life without risk? It’s time I stopped being prey.

  He lifted his eyes.

  “Okay. Teach me. But I promise you… I won’t die here. I have to find my family.”

  Esky studied him, and slowly nodded. Her voice softened.

  “I can feel your fear… but beneath it, there is steel. You’ve lived through hell, haven’t you?” She smiled faintly. “Good. You’ll need at least that much courage.”

  She turned to Alvatik.

  “Give him to me.”

  Alvatik obeyed, lowering his arm. Esky lifted Valerius into her hands—and as she touched him, her body shimmered.

  In an instant, she shrunk.

  Now the same size as Valerius, she landed gracefully on the red earth beside him. Her body was lean and powerful, clad in silver-lined armor, and around her finger was a ring that faintly pulsed with gold—a size-altering relic known only to giants.

  She turned to the crowd and spoke in Authey, her voice strong and clear.

  “He has agreed. Let’s hope this one does not break like the rest.”

  A murmur of mixed reactions rippled through the gathering.

  And so, the pact was sealed.

  ---

  A few days passed. Valerius had been given food, crude shelter, and strange oils to ease his healing.

  Now, by the river’s edge beneath a still-red sky, his training began.

  He sat on a stone, bruises still dark on his skin. Esky stood across from him, arms folded, wind blowing through her short chestnut hair.

  “This first lesson,” she said, “is not about strength. It’s about understanding.”

  Valerius nodded slowly.

  Esky raised a finger.

  “What I will teach you is Bravo.”

  She let the word hang in the air.

  “Most people in the outer realms… they don’t even know Authey exists. Let alone Bravo. And even among the giants, few have mastered it.”

  Valerius leaned forward.

  “What is it?”

  Her eyes glinted.

  “The art of becoming more than muscle. The will behind strength. The breath behind power. The spine behind every strike.”

  ---

  “There are two preliminary types of Bravo,” she said. “There are others, yes—but for now, we begin with the foundation.”

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  She raised one hand.

  “The first… is Fortis Bravo.”

  Her fingers curled slowly into a fist. “Fortis is the art of reinforcing your body. You take your raw Bravo—the internal force within you—and refine it, focus it, harden it.”

  Her hand shimmered faintly, then steadied.

  “You can coat your skin, organs—even your individual cells. At higher levels, this allows your body to resist everything from blade to heat to pressure. Even dimensional friction.”

  “Looks normal, doesn’t it?” she said, flexing her fingers. “That’s because you can’t see it now. But trust me—it’s there.”

  Valerius narrowed his eyes. “So… it’s like armor?”

  She extended her hand toward him. “Touch it.”

  He reached out and pressed his fingers to her palm.

  “Feels like iron, doesn’t it?” she said.

  His eyes widened. “It’s like... it’s not even flesh anymore.”

  “Correct. Fortis coating can make the body indestructible. With mastery, even a wooden spoon, coated in Bravo, can cleave a mountain. And…” she lifted a stone, then let it crumble between her fingers, “...if applied to objects, it gives them that same durability.”

  Esky’s expression darkened. “You can coat people too, but only if your Bravo refinement is perfect. Transfer too early—say, if only 30% of your Bravo is refined—and the recipient dies instantly. Only elite masters of Fortis can coat living beings without killing them.”

  Valerius swallowed.

  She lowered her hand. “That’s Fortis. The shield.”

  She turned away from him, facing the distant trees. “Now watch.”

  She closed her eyes.

  “The second… is Sentinel Bravo. The senses sharpened. Awareness enhanced. It allows you to feel everything around you—within a certain radius.”

  Without opening her eyes, she said, “Pick up a rock.”

  Valerius blinked. “Huh?”

  “Pick it up.”

  He reached to the ground and picked up a small stone.

  “Throw it at my head.”

  He hesitated. “Seriously?”

  “I won’t break,” she said calmly.

  He shrugged, then hurled the stone.

  Without looking, without twitching, her hand snapped up and caught the rock just inches from her temple.

  Valerius’s jaw dropped.

  She opened her eyes. “With Sentinel, I could feel the movement of the air around the rock. At higher levels, I could feel the heartbeat of a mosquito behind me.”

  Valerius gawked. “That’s insane.”

  “More than that,” she said, “with enough skill, Sentinel users can detect lies. Emotions. Power levels. They can even sense hostility before it turns into action. You cannot sneak up on a Sentinel.”

  “...You can sense all that?”

  She nodded. “That’s what makes it terrifying to fight a Sentinel in combat. They are the ones who see everything.”

  Valerius leaned back on the rock, winded just by imagining it.

  Esky stepped closer, smiling. “And now… we come to the third.”

  She looked down at him.

  “The rarest. The most dangerous.”

  Her voice dropped.

  “Cry of Absolute Authority.”

  Valerius raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

  She grinned.

  “PUNCH YOURSELF IN THE FACE!”

  “Wait, wh—”

  SMACK.

  His own fist slammed into his cheek.

  “AAGH! What the hell was that?!”

  Esky was still smiling.

  “That… was my will overriding yours.”

  He rubbed his jaw. “You can just do that?!”

  “Yes,” she said. “It’s a form of Bravo where your words are weapons. When infused with Cry, they crash into your opponent’s nervous system. They disrupt the body. Collapse veins. Shatter bones. Rupture minds.”

  Valerius stared.

  “Those with weak wills,” she continued, “have no defense. They will obey. They will suffer.”

  “Weak wills? What about those with strong wills” he asked.

  “Yes. If their will is strong enough, or their Fortis Bravo can shield every cell in their body, they can survive it. Otherwise…” she made a small motion with her fingers, “they bleed from every pore and die screaming.”

  Valerius exhaled slowly. “This Bravo stuff is… unreal.”

  “And you’ve only scratched the surface,” Esky replied.

  She picked up a stone, and with a faint pulse, coated it in Fortis.

  “Refinement,” she said, “is everything. Bravo is wild and unstable. Until it is refined into something focused—like Fortis—or mastered through discipline—like Sentinel—it’s just noise.”

  She tossed the stone to Valerius. It was heavy.

  “ A simple example. Someone with 100 Bravo, perfectly refined, can kill someone with 1000 Bravo and no control. That’s the rule of the world you now live in.”

  She pointed at his chest.

  “You don’t need more power, Lerius. You need to wield it.”

  He looked down at the stone in his hand.

  “And if I refine it wrong?”

  “You’ll die.”

  She knelt in front of him.

  “But if you refine it right… you’ll never be prey again.”

  “There are other types of Bravo,” Esky said softly, “but that will come later. First, you must learn to feel Vitalis.” She turned her gaze toward the flowing river. “Go. Sit in the water.”

  Valerius obeyed, stepping into the stream. The cold wrapped around his legs as he lowered himself onto a flat rock, letting the river wash over him.

  Esky stood on the bank, arms folded. Her tone was calm but firm. “We Bravo wielders are nothing like mana users. Our path is one of dual refinement. First, from Vitalis into raw Bravo. Then, from raw Bravo into something usable—something ours.”

  She took a step closer, voice low but commanding. “Close your eyes. Open your senses. Feel the wind. The river on your skin. The weight of the world pressing down. Vitalis is everywhere. It’s in the water. In the stones. In the very air you breathe. Open yourself to it... and wait.”

  She turned and walked away.

  “You’ll stay there until you feel it. Even if it takes days.”

  She had only taken a few steps when—

  “I think I feel something,” Valerius said quietly.

  She didn’t stop walking. “Stop joking around. You just sat down.”

  “No,” Valerius said, more urgently. “I really feel it.”

  She turned—and froze.

  Before her eyes, threads of white energy curled around Valerius’s body like mist drawn to a flame. The river shimmered where he sat. He was absorbing Vitalis.

  “What…?” she breathed.

  He’s not just sensing it... he’s drawing it in.

  Her thoughts raced. Alvatik was right. He does have potential—more than we realized.

  A rare smile touched her lips. “Alright then. Keep going. Just… keep doing exactly what you’re doing.”

  ---

  Hours passed. Then a day. Then another.

  Valerius remained in the river, eyes closed, surrounded by drifting Vitalis.

  On the third morning, Esky stepped into the river.

  “That’s enough.”

  Valerius opened his eyes, confused. “What? Did I do something wrong?”

  She shook her head. “No. You’re doing far better than expected.” She knelt beside him. “I thought we’d begin refining in a few months—but you’re ready now.”

  She placed a firm hand on his back. “You’ve felt Vitalis. Now feel how it flows within me. I’m going to infuse a portion of my Bravo into your body.”

  Her voice lowered. “Focus on it. Learn its rhythm. Its shape. Match your Vitalis to it. That’s how you refine. But be warned—this will hurt.”

  Valerius closed his eyes. “I’m ready.”

  Esky did not hesitate.

  The moment her Bravo entered him, Valerius screamed.

  His back arched. Veins bulged along his arms and neck. Blood leaked from his nose and mouth. His heart pounded like a war drum.

  “You feel it, don’t you?” Esky said over the sound of his ragged breaths. “Two energies. At war inside you. Now refine yours. Mold it. Shape it until it matches mine.”

  Valerius clenched his teeth. Invisible waves of pressure surged outward from his body. The river spiraled into vortexes. Stones cracked beneath him.

  “This…” he gasped, “this is worse than being eaten alive…”

  “You can’t fail here!” Esky shouted. “If you do, you will die!”

  Valerius roared again, blood streaming from his eyes. His fists slammed into the rock beneath him.

  “Refine it, Lerius!”

  His breathing quickened.

  Faster.

  Faster.

  Inside him, the pale white energy began to shift—twisting, condensing. It turned green. Then deeper green. It hummed.

  Vitalis was becoming Bravo.

  Valerius’s scream turned beastly, primal. His fists shook. His spine arched.

  “I don’t know what kind of life you’ve lived,” Esky cried, “but I need you. We all need you. You have to become the one! You cannot die here!”

  Her voice cracked with urgency. “This energy doesn’t rule you. You rule it! Dominate it. Make it yours. Exert your Authority!”

  And then—

  Valerius let out one final, earth-shattering roar.

  It echoed across the village.

  The wind stilled. The river froze.

  Every giant turned their head toward the sound. Silence fell across the land.

  At the edge of the cliff, Alvatik stood with arms crossed, watching the river below. A slow smile touched his lips.

  Far away—in another realm—a grand hall stretched endlessly into white light. At its center, upon a throne veiled in mist, a figure leaned forward ever so slightly.

  She smiled.

  ---

  To be continued…