We all awoke from our slumber and began our daily activities. Throughout breakfast, Mother and Father remained quiet. Little did they know that I had overheard their conversation with that man. They kept glancing at me, but my eyes remained on the bread and water in front of me. Father gulped down his wine and approached me, slapping his hand on my back.
"Alright boy, it's time we begin your training!" he roared, his voice echoing through the room.
My brother sat there with a jealous look. I couldn't help but sneer and feel a surge of joy inside me. "I can't wait, Father."
We both exited the dining room and made our way outside. Unbeknownst to me, Father had already set up two wooden swords and a training area. It was clear why; since I had no mana, I needed to work predominantly on my physical strength and skill. As the birds chirped, we took our stances. I had no visible form, and Father's chuckle before we started was a testament to that.
"Stand your ground, boy."
I leaned forward and rushed toward him with my wooden sword. He effortlessly dodged the attack, sensing it from a mile away. The clank of my sword hitting the ground echoed through the yard. Father offered his hand and helped me up. I smiled at him, and he frowned in response. "My strength shall be nothing compared to yours, Father," I said gleefully.
Judging by the secret smirk on his face, it might have stroked his ego a bit. Mother and Brother watched from the side, giving me additional motivation to perform my best. We took our stances again, and this time, I began with a more defensive approach, hoping Father would initiate the attack so I could counter. I saw the move coming in my mind, but I was too slow to react. He tapped me on the chest, making me fall on my back. I sighed, looking up at
the oddly shaped clouds in the sky, or maybe my mind was playing tricks on me.
Since that day, Father and I trained relentlessly. Bruises formed as the training became more demanding and stricter. One day, there was a knock on the door. I hid behind the staircase as a tall woman with long red hair and an outfit larger than her body came inside, repositioning her glasses. Father and Mother welcomed her warmly.
With a stark attitude, she proclaimed, "I'm here to train the boy like you requested."
Father and Mother exchanged looks and smiled. "Darius, our son."
She rolled her eyes and replied, "May I see the boy?"
Darius bolted down the stairs and gave quite a questionable performance. He changed his whole demeanor and way of talking. It was as if my own brother was possessed by some angelic deity. Mother couldn't help but chuckle. Darius slicked back his hair and held out his hand.
"It's good to meet you, madam."
The woman shook his hand. "What nice manners you have."
Darius grinned proudly. "I try my best, of course."
They made their way to the dining room, where my parents explained Darius's situation and what they required of him. As they chattered away, I went outside with a hint of jealousy gnawing at my gut. I went to our usual training grounds and swung the sword around for hours in the hot weather. Sweat ran down my face, and with each strike, a part of my envy faded away, replaced by anger. Of course, I couldn't let it show, but having no mana had severely impacted my mentality. I truly wished for a blessing to be bestowed upon me like it had been for others. But that was too much to ask. Since I came from another world and died there, having a second chance at life here, why would I complain about something so minor?
Here, I have a loving family, a snot-faced older brother, and a father who trains and conditions me to be something great.
Days turned into weeks, and my training intensified. I learned to move with agility, to anticipate Father's attacks. Each day, my body grew stronger, muscles hardening under the relentless sun. Father's eyes, once filled with doubt, now showed a glimmer of respect.
One afternoon, after an especially grueling session, Father and I sat under the shade of a large oak tree. He handed me a flask of water, his face softened by a rare smile.
"You've done well, Lucius. Your perseverance will serve you, even if you lack mana."
I nodded, feeling a swell of pride. "Thank you, Father. I will continue to train hard."
Just then, Darius and the woman trainer emerged from the house. Her stern expression never wavered, but Darius's face was lit with excitement.
"Lucius, you should see what I can do now!" Darius exclaimed, holding out his hand. A small ball of light formed, hovering above his palm.
I watched in awe, a pang of envy twisting in my chest. But I forced a smile. "That's amazing, Darius. You're really becoming a prodigy."
The trainer nodded approvingly. "Your brother has great potential. But remember, Lucius, strength is not measured by mana alone."
Her words, though meant to comfort, felt hollow. I bowed my head, hiding my frustration. "I understand, ma'am."
As the days passed, Lucius began to visit the village to show off his new abilities, it soon buzzed with news of Darius's abilities. He became a beacon of hope, the pride of our family. Meanwhile, I continued my training in the shadows, pushing my body to its limits. Father began teaching me strategies, how to outthink an opponent. My movements became sharper, my mind quicker.
One evening, as I practiced alone, Mother approached me. She placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, her eyes filled with concern.
"Lucius, you mustn't let jealousy consume you. You have your own strengths, and they are just as important."
I looked at her, my heart heavy. "It's hard, Mother. I want to make you all proud."
She smiled softly. "You already do, my son. Remember, a true warrior's strength comes from within."
Her words began to resonate with me. I realized that my path was different, but not something to be distained in. I might not have mana, but I have something that is more important than anything I had before, a loving family which unconditionally love me and that's something you can't ever get for cheap no matter the cost.