Following Few Days
Solis's mornings began with bruises and ended with bandages. And somewhere between that, he grew.
At Caldemount's northern training yard, the clang of fists on stone dummies had become rhythm, the breathless shouts of exertion his new anthem. Weeks passed like the passing of leaves in the wind — silent, steady, and unyielding.
Captain Devon never praised. He rarely corrected him with words. But when Solis struck wrong, he felt it — either in the ache of his knuckles or the disapproving silence that followed.
---
The System of Power
One morning, as frost still clung to the rails and Solis's breath came in white puffs, Devon stood across from him, arms folded.
"You're learning to push out force. Good. But you're wasting half of what's in you."
Solis blinked. "I thought Aura Release was about output?"
"It is. But not raw output," Devon replied. "Listen closely now, sword boy. Aura Release isn't a hammer. It's like a dial."
He crouched and scraped into the dirt with a stick — concentric rings like a target board.
"10%. 20%. 30%. This is not just strength. It's balance between your mind, your body, and your soul. You push past your limits, and your Aura aligns. That's when the power leaks out."
He stood, dusting his palms.
"If your thoughts are scattered, you lose control. If your body is weak, you burn out. If your spirit hesitates, the Aura collapses."
Solis frowned, absorbing each word.
"So… the stronger the alignment, the higher the release?"
Devon nodded once. "Bravo! You got it."
"And what's your limit, Captain?"
Devon smirked. "Ninety."
Solis coughed. "Ninety percent?!"
"It almost broke me the first time. And it nearly did again every time after."
He jabbed Solis's chest with two fingers.
"You can't just get to 90 with only effort. You have to earn it with pain."
---
The Routine of Resolve
Beyond training, life in Caldemount was as relentless as the cold.
Each morning, after drills, Solis and Ada stood before the Objective Board in the city square. Missions fluttered like paper flags — requests from townsfolk, trade guilds, even noble houses.
> • Package Delivery to Westhall Ridge — 30 RP (Rank C requirement)
• Escort Herbalist to the River Glen — 45 RP (Rank B requirement)
• Hunt Down Escaped Cocoa boars — 70 RP (Rank B requirement)
• Solve Fence Dispute Between Farmers — 25 RP (bonus PP if resolved peacefully) (Rank D requirement)
"This one looks easy," Ada said one morning, tapping the dispute mission.
Solis raised a brow. "Define easy."
Ada smirked. "Nobody's punching me in the face. Plus we are getting Privilege Points, such rare currency by doing a low level (Rank D) task."
They tackled it together. Ada charmed both parties with wit. Solis repaired the broken fence with sweat. They earned 25 RP and 1 PP each. Small gains — but each step mattered.
Solis:
> RP: 420 / 1000
PP: 6
Ada:
> RP: 519/1000
PP: 6
Over the weeks, they did it all — rescuing kittens, eliminating bandits, guarding merchants. Their stamina grew. So did their reputation.
One job, a caravan escort, nearly cost them both — ambushed by masked raiders halfway through the Vale. Ada had taken a hit to the ribs, but they fought back-to-back until knights from the nearest outpost came riding in.
Later that night, Solis asked, " You know Ada, you are already at the half point of completing the qouta then why do you even pushing yourself this much? Why such hurry?"
Ada stared into her cup of hot broth.
"Because if I don't grow stronger, I'll be left behind. I want to matter in this unit. I want to be seen as more than just the girl who talks too much."
Solis gave a small smile. "You talk just the right amount. Especially when I forget how to laugh."
---
Devon's Curiosity
Another frigid morning, between sets of Aura strikes and precision stance drills, Devon stood watching Solis string combinations of punches and footwork.
Then he asked, bluntly, "You ever used anything other than a sword?"
Solis paused mid-swing, blinking away sweat. "Uh… I can use an axe."
Devon tilted his head. "Can you?"
"I grew up chopping Gingerwood back in my village days."
Devon barked a short laugh. "Oh! You were a village boy before becoming a sword boy. Pretty hilarious."
Captain Devon turned around, "Fetch the sparring axe, 'village' boy."
---
Test of Versatility
They faced each other on the wooden dueling platform. Devon with his usual blunt training blade, Solis with a standard-issue practice axe.
"First to three strikes," Devon said. "Show me if you can hack with more than your ego."
They clashed.
Solis moved quicker than Devon expected — sweeping the axe in low arcs, using the weight to control the rhythm. He wasn't elegant. But he was effective.
First point: Solis.
Devon's eyes narrowed.
Round two was different. The captain moved like smoke on the wind — effortless dodges, sudden taps to the shoulder, knee, thigh.
Point two: Devon.
Final round. Solis adjusted. Less brute force. More calculated weight shifts. He used the haft like a staff, pushing Devon back with a feint and a hook.
Final strike landed — just grazing Devon's arm.
Devon backed off, nodding once. "Not bad, village boy."
"Really?" Solis asked, panting.
"Don't let it go to your head."
He turned away, calling over his shoulder.
"Tomorrow, I'll teach you something special. For now, rest well."
---
That Night
Back at the inn, Solis sat near the window, watching snow drift gently across the rooftops.
Ada returned from her job run, scarf dusted with frost.
"Got a new bruise," she said, sitting beside him.
"I got complimented."
She blinked. "Wait — Captain Devon praised you?"
"In his own twisted way."
They sat quietly for a moment.
Ada sipped her tea. "What's he teaching you tomorrow?"
"No clue. But he said it's special."
Ada raised her cup in toast. "Then rest well, soldier."
He clinked his cup against hers. "To being stubborn bastards."
She grinned. "To beating up old men."
They both laughed — not the laugh of victory, but the laugh of two people climbing the same mountain together.
---
Sometime Later
As Solis lay in bed that night, body sore but calm, he tried again — feeling the pulse Devon had spoken of.
Mind. Body. Soul.
He tried to reach for that alignment.
Not to draw power.
But to find clarity.
A whisper of warmth stirred in his chest — not the flame this time — just will.
It wasn't much though but it was enough to prove that it was growing.