Slowly, another three months passed.

  The quiet days at Saint Elyss’s Rest continued to move forward, marked by routine prayers, lessons, and chores, yet for Alaric, time no longer felt idle. Every day carried purpose now, every hour shaped around effort.

  At dawn, before the bells rang for morning prayer, Alaric was already running.

  His feet struck the dirt path behind the chapel again and again, breath steady despite the chill air. Sweat soaked through his simple clothes as he pushed himself harder, counting each step in his head. When his legs burned, he kept going. When his chest tightened, he slowed just enough to recover, then continued.

  If my body can’t keep up with my mind, magic alone won’t save me.

  Physical training had become part of his routine. Running for endurance. Push-ups and sit-ups until his arms trembled. Pull-ups on the old wooden beam behind the storage shed, where the grain sacks were kept. Every movement was deliberate.

  Later in the mornings, he trained with Kellan.

  The older boy stood tall in the open field beside the chapel, wooden sword held firmly in both hands. His posture was disciplined, his stance precise, far more serious than someone his age should have been. Kellan’s dream had never changed. He wanted to be a knight, a real one, not just someone who swung a sword for show.

  Alaric faced him with his own wooden blade.

  “Again,” Kellan said calmly.

  They moved.

  Wood struck wood with sharp cracks, blades sliding and rebounding. Alaric ducked under a swing, stepped back from a thrust, then countered. Their movements were not flashy, but efficient, refined through repetition.

  As they fought, both of them murmured the same word under their breath.

  “Confirma.”

  Confirma was the spell Strengthening magic. When casted for A faint pressure spread through Alaric’s limbs same way as mana flowed from his reserve, wrapping around his muscles like an invisible layer. Strengthening magic was a null magic that is simple yet vital.It responded instantly to his thoughts,manipulating it to reinforce his legs, arms, even his senses.

  With it active, everything felt sharper.

  His speed increased. His balance improved. Even his perception shifted, the world slowing just enough for him to react more cleanly. He was almost twice the normal human.

  Through training, Alaric had learned something important. Confirma did not need elaboration. By simply invoking it, he could convert a portion of his mana directly into strengthening aura, shaping it through intent alone.

  No need for long incantations. Aura responds faster than structured spells.

  Kellan had learned the same, though more instinctively. His movements became heavier, more powerful, but he lacked Alaric’s efficiency.

  Their training was interrupted by laughter.

  Rin appeared from behind the fence, hands cupped around her mouth. “Wow, look at you two. All serious and heroic. Practicing for when you impress some noble ladies?”

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  Kellan frowned. “You shouldn’t distract us.”

  She shrugged, grinning. “Relax. I train too, you know.”

  True to her words, Rin carried a bow across her back. While she did not train with swords, she had begun learning magic alongside Alaric, focusing on wind. As a mage archer, she used Ventus to guide her arrows, accelerating them mid-flight, adjusting trajectory, even compensating for distance.

  She nocked an arrow and fired toward a distant target.

  The arrow whistled as wind wrapped around it, pushing it forward with unnatural speed before it struck the center of the wooden post.

  “See?” Rin said smugly. “Not all of us want to swing sticks.”

  Mira watched from the shade nearby, quietly observing, her hands folded around her book. She trained too, though in her own silent way.

  As the days passed, Alaric’s understanding of magic deepened.

  Mana, he realized, behaved much like particles, not unlike concepts he remembered from his previous world. It responded to thought, pressure, direction. By concentrating mana while it flowed through his circuits, he could reduce strain, protecting them from overload.

  Circuits are like pipes. Too much pressure bursts them. But if I compress the flow...

  By condensing mana before release, he safeguarded his astral pathways, allowing greater output without damage. This single realization changed everything.

  He learned the structure of spells as well.

  Every elemental spell required activation. “Creo.” Create.

  Then the element. Ignis for fire. Aqua for water. Ventus for wind. Terra for earth.

  Beyond that, most spells defined shape, size, speed, power, etc.

  But Alaric discovered something others overlooked.

  He didn’t need to speak those parts.

  By manipulating mana directly, he could shape the spell mentally, shortening incantations to just Creo plus the element. This freed him from rigid spell frameworks, allowing versatility beyond what books taught.

  Why limit magic to written formulas when mana responds to will?

  His mana reserve grew as well.

  Through deliberate exhaustion, emptying his reserve repeatedly and allowing it to regenerate, he forced expansion. The process was dangerous. Pushing too far left him dizzy, sometimes unconscious. Full recovery required a night’s rest.

  Still, the results were undeniable.

  In two months, his mana capacity nearly tripled.

  With it came experimentation.

  Fireballs launched cleanly from his palm. Controlled explosions formed by heating tiny volumes of air to trigger shockwaves. Water jets infused with ice shards cut into stone. Ice bullets formed instantly, sharp and fast.

  Wind compressed into invisible cannons, blasting targets back. Sonic booms formed by forcing air through imaginary pathways, like pipes, amplifying velocity.

  Earth magic remained his weakest. He managed localized tremors, enough to destabilize footing, causing opponents to stumble.

  Rin trained alongside him, learning to weave wind into her archery. Kellan refined his swordsmanship and strengthening.While Mira absorbed knowledge quietly.

  Sister Elaine often watched from afar, worry evident in her eyes.

  “He pushes himself too hard,” she said one evening.

  Father Corwin shook his head gently. “Or perhaps he knows time is precious.”

  One afternoon, they traveled with sister Elaine to the town market for supplies.

  The streets were busier than usual. Knights gathered in the central square, polished armor glinting in the sun, banners fluttering.

  Kellan stared, eyes burning with longing. “I’ll join the Royal Knight Academy one day.”

  Rin crossed her arms. “I’d rather be free. Hunters Guild suits me better.”

  Mira nodded softly.

  They turned to Alaric in anticipation.

  “I’ll go to the Royal Knight Academy,” he said calmly.

  Inside, his thoughts churned.

  Power alone isn’t enough. I need influence, Connections & Authority.

  Revenge isn’t won by strength alone.

  As he watched the knights, resolve hardened in his chest.

  The horizon ahead was broken, fractured by blood and fire.