Chapter 030 - Bonding Thread
In broad daylight, beneath the waving trees, Wallan stood alone in a clearing with his sleeves rolled to the elbows. Sunlight passed through the canopy, flickering across his shoulders and the stones at his feet. His boots planted firmly on the mossy floor. Green, hollow orbs seeped beneath him, rising up like snow but reversed.
Energy surged around his figure. He closed his eyes and exhaled once with full focus. Then he raised his hand.
Telekinetic Magic ? Lv. 4
The system flickered around his fingers in a dull shimmer, white-edged with gold. Threads of magic clung loosely to his calloused skin, fluttering with the same instability as his stance. His eyes locked onto a torso-sized stone a few steps away, which was near the weight of a grown youth. He braced his legs, lifted his hands, and focused. He stared closely at the solid object. And then— lift!
But the rock… just twitched.
It was a flicker, like a hiccup. He thought an invisible rodent just kicked it with its hind legs. Humiliating. Wallan’s fingers shook. He clenched his jaw, grabbed his wrist with his free hand to steady it, and tried again. His breath caught in his throat as the magic wavered. Sweat lined his brow as his stance staggered.
But the stone did not move this time. It was like his magical thread was as powerful as an infant.
His hand dropped, and the thread collapsed with it. The magic deactivated, leaving only a trace of glistening mist evaporating into the silent air. One streak of sweat rolled down his cheek. He wiped it away and muttered, “Not good enough.”
He turned, scanned the ground, and this time found a smaller rock to train with. Something barely the size of a palm. He crouched, sighed through his nose, and tried again.
Across the clearing, tucked at the tree line, Vynelor watched from beneath a blanket wrapped loosely around his shoulders. His knees were drawn close to his chest even if the day was warm. He didn’t speak at all, nor did he move from that spot.
But his eyes stayed open, fixed on the space around Wallan’s hands—the shimmer, the thread, the struggle. He watched as the air bent slightly from the effort and how the spell failed at unexpected moments. His fingers curled slightly around the blanket’s edge. He sighed calmly. But he still hadn’t looked away. He still watched, wanting to see the spectacle before him, even if that magic could be blown out with a simple whoosh.
…
The next day, it was the same thing.
Telekinetic Magic ? Lv. 4
Wallan stood with legs firm and arms raised. His hands glowed again. Faint robes of white and gold lapped at his skin like foam sticking stubbornly. His eyes were steady, breath measured. Before him sat a rock. It was the same one from yesterday, which was nothing special.
He focused, and the threads of light stretched from his palms, reaching toward the stone. They coiled like vines searching for something solid to grab. They found the stone, but not completely. The glow crawled across the surface awkwardly, flickering like fire.
Still, the rock rose… but only a few inches. It was wobbling, twitching in the air like it didn’t want to be held.
Wallan grunted, sweat pressing through his brow as his arms shook. Blood rushed to his face, the vessels in his neck bulging slightly. The spell held just barely. Then, just as suddenly, the threads unraveled.
The stone slipped from the magic like a slimy fish sliding from wet hands. It hit the ground with a solid thump. Wallan stumbled one step back, a hand gripping his side. He didn’t curse. Rather, he panted as the shimmer faded from his skin. As he caught his breath, his system flickered into view beside him.
- System Update ●
Two days passed, and one step into the world of magic.
Endurance Capacity Threshold — Fulfilled
The message blinked softly before dissolving into the air. Wallan didn’t seem to notice. He took the skin bottle from his side and drank with shallow gulps. After a pause, he wiped his mouth on his wrist and tossed the bottle aside into the grass.
He stepped forward again. With the same stance, he took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to stop.
On the other side of the clearing, Vynelor sat. But he wasn’t in the blanket anymore. He was perched atop the bigger boulder that Wallan had failed to lift yesterday, knees pulled up and arms resting over them. The rock was about the same size as his body, and it gave him a quiet vantage to watch without seeming too interested.
His gaze stayed in Wallan’s hands, on the light that seemed entrancing to his half-brightened eyes. There was no trace of fear this time.
While the man was occupied with another attempt, the boy quietly raised his hand. His palm began radiating, and the air around him grew warm. He aimed at the boulder, but as soon as Wallan sighed and dropped the rock, he put his hand away. Magic was cut off, leaving no trace of what the child was about to do. When the man walked to take a break, Vynelor took a deep breath and looked away.
…
● System Update ●
You are getting stronger.
Strength Capacity Threshold — Fulfilled
The third day came, and Wallan returned to the same worn patch of earth, muscles sore and joints stiff. Hours passed as he lifted, dropped, and re-lifted the same stubborn rock again and again, until his arms trembled and his breath whistled through clenched teeth.
Then, at last, his system flickered again. This time, something came up that hadn’t appeared in a while.
● System Update ●
You never thought you could do this. Look at you now.
Magical Threshold — Fulfilled
Adaptation Path is Shifting…
Telekinetic Magic ? Lv. 4 → 5
The screen dimmed and vanished. Wallan stared at his hands. Nothing felt different. No surge of power; no clarity of thought. It was just the same old limbs, marked with old scars and a fleeting of self-congratulations passing moments later.
There was a slight wonder to his breath. His heartbeat slowed. After wiping his forehead, he clenched his hand and thought silently. Maybe it was possible today, to lift that rock. Still, he wouldn’t know unless he tried.
He turned toward the familiar boulder, brow low with quiet determination.
Telekinetic Magic ? Lv. 5
The shimmer returned, but this time, the strands were more orderly. It was still thin and juvenile in texture and motion, but their aim no longer wavered like smoke. They curved toward the stone with some sense of decision. There was a bit of control, unlike last time. If level 4’s griphold felt like a slimy fish, level 5 was like butter. Still greasy, but quite firm.
The boulder didn’t shake. Yet, it responded with a subtle tremor in the soil. It slid across the floor, but only by a foot. Maybe less. But the movement was clean.
It didn’t lift, not even close. But Wallan could feel the system holding. It wasn’t strong or fast, but it could hold.
His teeth grit. He focused deeper. His hands quivered as the light built at his palms again. He wanted to lift it. Maybe that could give him motivation again or some awakening. Even if it could come off the ground by a finger’s width. Just one, and it was enough.
But before he could press harder… the stone suddenly rose.
It lifted cleanly from the dirt, smoothly and silently. It felt as if gravity disappeared, and the boulder ascended into the air effortlessly.
Wallan’s eyes widened. For a moment, he believed it had been him. His palms were still acting, and this magic still wrapped around it. But the rock floated, balanced perfectly above the grass. He was clearly stunned with puzzling blinks—until something, or someone behind him controlled another pair of threads.
He realized that this sudden pulse of strength wasn’t his.
He turned.
Telekinetic Magic ? Lv. 26
There, above him, perched calmly on a branch halfway up a tall tree, was Vynelor. He sat sideways, legs dangling lazily. One arm was stretched outward, palm cupping casually as if cradling a bird. From his hand, golden threads spilled like silk, gentle and sure.
The threads of his magic curled around the stone like an embrace, enveloping Wallan’s strands with soft grace. Like the hands of a child, Wallan’s ropes of magic were carried by the larger hands of a father. Where Wallan had strained like a child grasping at a boulder, Vynelor’s strands behaved like a parent lifting a toy.
For all of Wallan’s years of discipline, grit, and physical strength, the boy held more magical control in a single hand than he had earned in days of sweat.
The boulder hung in the air, unmoving, unshaking, and perfectly poised. Wallan stared up at him silently. Because for the first time since the near loss, it wasn’t Wallan teaching Vynelor. It was Vynelor steadying something the man had nearly let go.
A moment passed between them, quiet as mist. And the boy didn’t look away.