The next few days were a rollercoaster of suffering, for me at least. Every day after classes, I would head to Aurora's office, swing my sword three thousand times before the training even began, and then Aurora would proceed to break every bone in my body—literally.
Today was Sunday, which marked a month since I arrived at this academy, and, according to the faculty, the last day of peace the cadets would get. From tomorrow, relentless drills would begin. Right now I was on my way to Aurora's office, because on weekends we had… well, she had decided that I would come by five a.m. I had already done so yesterday.
As I reached the door, "Come in," her voice sounded before I knocked.
"Lady Aurora," I greeted.
"You know what to do," she said without looking up from her desk—one would wonder if she was really busy or simply putting on a show.
I nodded and went toward the training room. *This has become my life now,* I thought, shaking my head. *Just swing, swing, swing.*
I entered the familiar room that had seen my blood over the past few days. It pained me to admit it, but it was starting to feel like home. So I swung, swung, and swung—vertical, horizontal, and diagonal—a thousand times each.
"Good, your stance has improved," Aurora's voice echoed the moment I finished the swings.
*Of course it would; I've been holding this stance at least an hour every day for the past few days,* I wanted to say, but instead I replied, "It's all thanks to you, Lady Aurora."
"Enough with the flattery," she said, her face betraying not the slightest emotion. "Come at me."
A sword materialized in one of her hands like it had always belonged there, gleaming faintly under the bright lights of the training room. She placed her other hand behind her back casually, as if she didn't even need it.
That was all the invitation I needed. I charged at her like a wild animal—but not stupid. My sword screamed through the air, aimed straight for her neck with lethal intent. But she didn't flinch. With a single, effortless twist of her wrist, she deflected the strike so hard my sword flew from my grip and clattered to the side.
'Fuck. How the hell is her body this strong?'
She wasn't even reinforcing herself—no aura, no bloodline boost, nothing. That was just raw muscle. Base stats.
Still, I wasn't done. I retrieved my sword and we continued—well, technically, *I* continued. She just stood there, dismantling me like a puzzle she'd solved a hundred times already.
"You calculate too much," she muttered, sidestepping another of my swings like she was dodging a leaf in the wind. "Your mind should not be faster than your weapon."
*CLANG*—the jolt of our blades crashing again rattled up my arms.
"It should be one with your weapon," she said, calm as ever.
I gritted my teeth and picked up the pace, slashing and thrusting with every ounce of speed and anger I could summon. But she dodged as if she could see the future or knocked my blade away like it was a child's toy. Frustration boiled in my chest—and I knew what came next.
*SQUELCH*
Her sword slid into my shoulder, clean and cruel. Blood burst out like a damn faucet.
'Fuck,' I hissed inwardly, clutching the wound as white-hot pain shot down my arm. It was always like this. Just when I was starting to get confident, she would tear me back down.
According to her, "If you know what pain feels like, you'll work harder to avoid it."
Yeah. Real motivational speaker, that one.
And the worst part? She *never* moved. No fancy footwork, no dashes. She just stood there like an immovable wall, and yet I couldn't land a damn hit. It was humiliating. But what was I expecting? She probably had a sword in her hand before she learned to walk. Me? A few days ago I was still figuring out which side of the blade to hold. If I actually managed a decent hit, I'd start questioning *her* skills.
A few more stabs—nothing too deadly, just enough to remind me where I stood—and I was on the floor. My limbs were jelly, my vision blurry. One more hit and I'd probably pass out.
"You've improved these past few days," she said, as if I hadn't just lost a pint of blood trying to land a single blow.
She tossed me a healing potion. "Heal up."
Then she turned away. "You can go for today. I have something to attend to."
And just like that—*gone.*
I uncorked the vial and drank the potion. "No pain, no gain, I guess," I muttered as I felt my wounds knitting at an accelerated rate. My endurance had increased drastically; I'd sparred with Aurora for almost two hours. Not only my endurance, but my natural instincts and reflexes were also improving.
After healing up, I left the training room, and true to her word, Aurora was no longer at her desk. When I got back to the dorms, the common area was already bustling with cadets. It was the weekend, after all. I went back to my room, took a shower, and ordered a sumptuous meal.
Once I'd filled my stomach, I messaged both Owen and Tokito, telling them I had something to take care of and that I'd meet them later. Like my training, over the past few days my relationship with Owen and Tokito had strengthened, and just as I'd hoped, the two of them hit it off immediately.
The three of us had been hanging out a bit—an impressive feat for someone like me who lacked a social life. Soon I left the dorms and headed east into the jungle surrounding the academy. I wasn't satisfied, though, and walked deeper, even encountering some rank-3 beasts. It wasn't until I found a clearing that I stopped.
Today I was going to try something I'd been putting off for quite a while: my second bloodline, or rather, "Beholder of Reality." I'd been subconsciously avoiding it throughout the past week, but that had to end now.
*So how do I start?* I mulled. For now I could only use the "essence-based structure," which manipulates reality by speaking the origin language itself. I couldn't—and didn't yet know how to use—the "symbolic syntax," which uses symbolic characters of the origin language. The third, "Intent and Consciousness," worked in tandem with both the essence-based structure and the symbolic syntax.
"Okay, let's start with something small," I muttered. From my revelation, the origin language was already engraved in my body, mind, and soul. I knew I could speak it; I'd just never tried it before.
"How about I make it rain here?" I pondered. I had to be extremely careful—one wrong move and I'd be seeing my parents. To make rain fall here, I'd have to speak the words "rainfall, here, thirty meters" in tandem with my intent; it would translate to wanting it to "rain in a thirty-meter radius."
"𐎓Ϫᓵ𐡋༢𖼿⚶ᚲ𖠧𓂀Ϟᛗ𐡚 " I felt my essence draining as I spoke those words, which would have otherwise sounded like gibberish to anyone who heard them. Suddenly the air shifted, the sky darkened, and I felt the first drop of water on my face—then the rain poured.
"It worked!" I exclaimed in excitement, not minding that it had taken seventy percent of my reserves. I was thrilled. Even though my revelation had said I could do this, I only believed it when I saw it with my own eyes.
A minute later, the rain suddenly stopped and the dark clouds dispersed as if they had never been there. The only sign that remained was the wet ground.
"Why did it suddenly stop?" I pondered—and then it hit me. "So it's like that, huh?" I realized why the rain had stopped: I hadn't specified a duration.
"Now that I know how it works, I just have to keep practicing—even on miscellaneous stuff. After all, practice makes perfect. Though I don't think I can ever perfect this, not in a million years." I sat in meditation to recover my essence, and a little over half an hour later I was back at one hundred percent.
"Hmmm, what should I try next?" I contemplated. Then my lips curled up. "It's probably stupid, but I'm going to try it anyway."
"𖣔ϗᓚ𐊬ꙮ𓆃𐌎𑁍𖼖𖠨ᓵ⚷𓃭𐑊."
*VUAM*—my body suddenly shifted and my face hit the floor. But it wasn't just any floor; it was the floor of my dorm room. A large grin appeared on my face for the first time in years. I had used three words—"me, teleport, dorm room"—which translated to "teleport me to my dorm room."
"Only fifty percent of my essence—less than before," I said appreciatively. "This could become my primary means of transportation." A realization crept into my mind. *Adam Express at only fifty percent essence.*
But I wasn't going to try it again anytime soon—not until I was sure I could do it seamlessly. I didn't want my face hitting the floor every time I succeeded.
I picked myself up from the floor; I had a lot of practicing to do, after all. I didn't test the teleportation again but instead tried a variety of things, from changing the color of my clothes to seeing if I could alter my appearance (which did not go well). Nevertheless, it was a productive day.
*RINGGGGG* my alarm woke me at exactly five a.m., just in time for another shrill, louder alarm to echo throughout the dorms.
*WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.*
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A/N:
I THINK I'M DOING GOOD WITH HIS BLOODLINE, I DON'T WANT TO MAKE HIM TOO OP TOO EARLY.
TELL ME IF YOU HAVE OTHER THOUGHTS.
IF YOU'RE ENJOYING THIS NOVEL, PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW 🙏🙏🙏🙏.