"Seriously? That staff again? Out of any weapon, that's your weapon of choice? No runes, no glow? Why is it always that staff?"
Lucien's lips curved in a faint, knowing smile, his eyes reflecting depths untold. "Because simplicity reveals truth, Seiji. This staff demands no flair only mastery. It teaches what no gilded blade can, restraint amid chaos."
Seiji's grin sharpened, but there was curiosity beneath it. "So, what's the plan? Staff lessons again? Twirling it like a cheerleader?"
Lucien planted the staff firmly, and a subtle vibration hummed through the air, as if the wood itself breathed. "Today, we'll do bravery. The one who stands up for everyone, including his enemies."
"Bravery?" Seiji echoed, his brow arching.
"The line between mercy and forgiveness." Lucien explained, his eyes narrowing like a blade's edge. "One burns with vengeance, the other chooses to find peace through forgiveness. True bravery isn't slaying foes it's sparing them when every instinct screams otherwise."
Seiji nodded slowly, absorbing the weight. But a question nagged at him, born from whispers he'd overheard in the castle corridors tales of elixirs that could temporary give mana, shortcuts for the desperate. "Speaking of bravery... Is there something called mana elixirs. Do they even exist? Something that temporary gives you mana?"
Lucien's expression remained calm, unflinching, as if the query were a gentle breeze. "They exist, Seiji. But they are highly dangerous and difficult to brew. I won't detail the process. it's complicated, complex, a path few survive intact. But know this. their doses exact a toll, one that tests bravery itself."
Before Seiji could press further, the staff whipped forward, precise and unrelenting. Seiji twisted away just in time, the tip grazing his shoulder with a bite that stung like truth unveiled.
"As always, you attack immediately." Seiji shot back, pivoting with a smile. "I've expected you to do so, Lucien!"
The old man didn't reply with words only motion. He spun the staff in a low arc, aiming for Seiji's legs, forcing a leap backward. Seiji countered with a swift kick, his boot glancing off the wood with a sharp crack. The hall echoed with the rhythm of combat, each clash a dialogue unspoken.
"Bravery begins with facing the unknown." Lucien said evenly, his voice steady amid the flurry. He thrust forward, the staff blurring. Seiji parried with his training sword, the impact jarring his arms. "But mana elixirs... one dose grants temporary hyper-resonance, minor ionic flux, localized oxidative spikes. A headache follows, nosebleeds, fleeting confusion. The 'mana buzz' lingers as mild euphoria 80% survival. Yet it whispers déjà vu."
Seiji dodged a overhead swing, rolling to the side and springing up with a slash that Lucien deflected effortlessly. Sweat beaded on his brow, but curiosity burned brighter. "Sounds tempting for a quick win."
Lucien pressed the assault, staff sweeping in wide circles that forced Seiji into a defensive weave. "Temptation is bravery's first test. Two doses? Heavy ionic imbalance, focal necrosis in temporal lobes, cytokine elevation. Seizures, slurred speech, partial amnesia, you might forget allies mid-battle. Survival drops to 45%. Nightmares of 'unlived' memories haunts the survivor."
The words wove into the fight like threads in a tapestry. Seiji lunged, sword arcing high. Lucien sidestepped, countering with a jab to the ribs that winded him. Pain flared, but Seiji pushed through, grabbing the staff's end and yanking Lucien off-balance. For a split second, their eyes locked. Teacher and student, forged in mutual respect.
"Three doses."Lucien continued, reclaiming his stance with a twist that freed the staff. "Cortical thinning, widespread excitotoxicity, meningeal inflammation. Motor ataxia, transient blindness, agonizing migraines. Potential for berserk outbursts. Only 30% endure. Persistent hallucinations follow seeing 'ghosts' of what could have been."
Seiji's breaths came heavier now, the lesson sinking in as deeply as the bruises. He feinted left, struck right. Lucien blocked, but the force staggered him slightly. "So it's not worth it? Why even mention them?"
"Because bravery knows when to refuse power." Lucien replied, his staff whirling in a defensive barrier. He advanced, strikes raining down precise, unrelenting. Seiji blocked one, ducked another, his sword clashing in a symphony of wood and steel. A glancing blow to his thigh sent him stumbling, but he rose, defiant. "Four doses, massive hemorrhage, resonance feedback loops, mitochondrial cascade failure. Coma, intracranial bleeding, uncontrolled mana discharges like self-incineration. Survival? 10%. If you live."
The fight intensified, the hall a blur of motion. Seiji charged, sword overhead. Lucien met it mid-swing, the collision sparking faint mana flickers from the staff. Seiji twisted, elbowing Lucien's guard aside, landing a light tap on the old man's shoulder a point scored. But Lucien retaliated with a sweep that tripped him, staff pressing gently against his throat as he hit the floor.
"Five or more." Lucien murmured, helping Seiji up with a steady hand."total neural burnout, systemic overload, glial scarring apocalypse. Vegetative state, death, or mutation into a 'mana aberration' a mindless energy conduit. Or permanent mana loss. Bravery isn't chasing such risks, it's forgiving the weakness that tempts you toward them, less than 1% to survive such deadly doses."
Seiji stood, chest heaving, wiping sweat from his eyes. The pain was real, but so was the clarity. "I get it. Standing up... even for the ones who'd cut you down. Forgiving the pull of easy power."
Lucien's smile was genuine, warm amid the exhaustion. "Precisely. Mercy over vengeance. Peace through choice."
"After you rest a bit, Seiji. Be ready, as today's training soon... is special."
Seiji nodded, leaning on his sword.
The mist had barely lifted from the training hall's windows when Lucien straightened, his staff tapping once against the marble floor a sound that echoed like a prelude to storm. Seiji, still catching his breath from the earlier spar, felt a subtle shift in the air, a prickling at the nape of his neck. Something was off. The old man's posture had changed, not dramatically, but with the quiet certainty of a predator uncoiling. Lucien's eyes, usually veiled in scholarly calm, now held a glint of something deeper, ancient, unyielding.
"Training resumes." Lucien said simply, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through the stone beneath their feet. He raised the staff, gripping it midway, and began to spin it with effortless precision. The motion started slow, deliberate, each rotation building momentum until the wood blurred into a seamless arc. A bright, luminous yellow light bloomed from the spinning circle, perfect and unbroken, casting elongated shadows across the hall like rays from a false sun. The air hummed with energy, charged, alive.
Seiji's instincts screamed warning. He stepped back, his training sword raised defensively, but his muscles tensed inexplicably. "What is this? Another lesson?"
Lucien's only response was a faint, enigmatic smile. The spinning accelerated, the yellow circle intensifying until it pulsed with ethereal glow. From its center, forms began to manifest lances of golden light, swords with edges that shimmered like molten starfire, axes and spears materializing in a cascade of divine armament. They hovered in the air, dozens of them, orbiting Lucien in a swirling vortex that evoked the wrath of forgotten gods. No chants escaped his lips, no incantations filled the space. The magic simply was summoned by will alone, raw and unspoken.
Seiji's eyes widened, piecing it together in a flash. 'No words. No spells recited like in those stories. Magic here... it's not bound by chants. It's optional, a crutch for the weak.' The realization hit him like a cold wave, but there was no time to dwell. The weapons circled faster, forming a golden halo around Lucien, radiant and impenetrable, a divine arsenal ready to unleash judgment.
And then, the world grew heavy.
It started as a pressure on Seiji's shoulders, subtle at first, like an invisible hand pressing down. But in seconds, it escalated gravity warping, intensifying to ten times its norm. Seiji's knees buckled under the assault, his bones creaking in protest, his lungs compressing as if squeezed by iron bands. He couldn't speak, the weight crushed the air from his throat, turning every breath into a labored rasp. His sword arm trembled, the weapon suddenly feeling like it weighed a ton, dragging toward the floor. 'he used magic to increase gravity..' His mind raced, panic flickering at the edges, but he forced himself to stay upright, muscles screaming.
Lucien stood unmoved amidst the swirling weapons, his staff still spinning lazily in one hand. The old man's face showed no strain, but Seiji noticed something a faint, internal glow beneath Lucien's robes, subtle shifts in his posture that suggested regeneration, bones knitting silently from within. No spells, no gestures, just quiet, ceaseless mending. Lucien was enduring the same gravity, his body breaking and reforming in an endless cycle, all without a word. 'He's healing himself... constantly. That's how he stands.'
The summoned swords and lances whirled faster, their golden trails weaving a tapestry of light. Seiji's vision blurred under the strain, his heart pounding like a war drum against his ribs. He couldn't comprehend the scale of it, the raw power, the effortless command. This wasn't training. This was a crucible, a test of something deeper than skill.
Lucien pointed a single finger at Seiji, and one lance detached from the orbit, streaking forward like a comet. It pierced straight through Seiji's chest not rending flesh or spilling blood, but invading his very essence. Pain exploded inward, a torrent of agony that wasn't physical but existential every regret, every fear, every moment of doubt amplified into searing torment. It felt like his soul was being flayed, memories of his old life flashing in brutal clarity, the mundane world left behind, the summoning's cold indifference, the slaves in chains. The gravity, now somehow easing to four times normal perhaps a mercy, or a calculated adjustment still pinned him, but the lance's strike was worse, a wound that threatened to shatter his soul's will.
Seiji gasped, dropping to one knee, his sword clattering to the marble. His body screamed for surrender, every cell protesting the unnatural force. A normal human would have collapsed long ago, bones splintering, organs failing under the tenfold crush that had initiated the assault. Even now, at four times gravity, survival was a miracle. But Seiji's mind clung to clarity, a spark igniting amid the chaos. 'Determination... that's it..! One of the parts for heroism, it isn't about losing or winning. It's about standing when everything says fall. For others. For life.'
"I... I won't fall..!" he forced out, the words a ragged whisper against the weight. His voice cracked, but resolve hardened it. "It doesn't matter about win or lose... as long as everyone lives... THATS WHAT MATTERS!"
He pushed up, legs shaking, defying the gravity that sought to grind him down. The lance's pain lingered, a throbbing echo in his core, but he stood trembling, defiant. Around Lucien, the weapons continued their dance, golden and relentless, but the old man paused, his finger lowering slightly. The staff's spin slowed, the yellow circle dimming just a fraction.
Seiji's eyes locked on Lucien, seeing the subtle regeneration anew the way the old man's frame adjusted, bones realigning without fanfare. 'He's breaking too... but he rebuilds. Silently. This world's... magic is will, not words.' The insight fueled him, turning pain into fuel.
Lucien tilted his head, as if appraising a rare artifact. The gravity held steady at fourfold, a test now rather than a weapon. Another sword detached from the vortex, spiraling toward Seiji with lethal grace. He dodged barely his body sluggish under the pressure, the blade slicing the air where his head had been. The near-miss sent a shockwave through the hall, cracking the marble floor. Seiji countered instinctively, lunging forward with his sword, but the gravity dragged at him, turning the strike into a laborious swing.
Lucien parried effortlessly with his staff, the wood meeting steel in a clash that sparked ethereal light. The impact reverberated through Seiji's arms, nearly buckling him again. But he pressed on, circling, his breaths coming in short, defiant bursts. A lance followed, thrusting low. Seiji leaped gravity making the motion feel like wading through molasses but he cleared it, rolling to the side as it embedded in the wall with a thunderous crack.
The arsenal intensified. Two swords arced in tandem, one high, one low, forcing Seiji to twist mid-air. He blocked the high one, the force jarring his teeth, and kicked at the low, deflecting it just enough to avoid evisceration. Pain lanced through his leg, not from impact, but from the gravity's toll, muscles tearing and straining. Yet he rose again, sword gripped tight, eyes blazing.
Lucien's expression remained serene, but there was a flicker. respect, perhaps, or remembrance. The staff spun anew, summoning more weapons. A barrage of spears raining down like golden hail. Seiji weaved through them, each dodge a victory against the invisible chains. One grazed his shoulder, drawing a line of fire that wasn't blood but burning intent, amplifying his doubts into screams. 'Why fight? Why endure?' But he shoved it aside. 'For the chained. For the forgotten. Determination... it's one of all that stands between hero and slave.'
He charged, gravity be damned, closing the distance. His sword swung in a wide arc, aiming for Lucien's side. The old man met it with a casual block, but Seiji followed with a feint, kicking low. Lucien staggered just a step but it was enough. Seiji pressed, strikes coming faster, fueled by that core realization. Heroism was endurance, bravery, determination and unyielding will in the face of obliteration.
A cluster of axes whirled in, forcing Seiji back. He parried one, ducked another, the third clipping his arm with magic agony that blurred his vision. The gravity pulsed, spiking briefly back toward tenfold, and Seiji's knees hit the floor. He coughed, tasting blood internal, from the strain. No human could withstand this.. his body was at its limit, bones groaning, vision tunneling.
But he stood. Again.
Lucien's voice cut through the chaos, calm and profound. "If we live, we live for the Lord, and if we die, we die for the Lord. So whether we live or die, we belong to the Lord."
The words hung, a mantra of surrender and strength, echoing in Seiji's mind. The weapons halted mid-orbit, the golden light fading. Gravity released its grip, snapping back to normal with a whoosh that left Seiji reeling. He swayed, consciousness fraying, the hall spinning. The pain from the lance, the strikes, the unyielding weight it all crashed down at once.
He collapsed, darkness claiming him, but not before a final thought solidified. 'Determination... that's the heart of it. Not power. Not fate. Just refusing to break.'
Lucien approached slowly, the staff now still in his hand, the summoned arms dissolving into motes of light. He knelt beside the fallen youth, placing a gentle hand on Seiji's head, patting it with paternal care. The old man's face softened, a rare warmth breaking through.
"I'm surprised you've survived that one lance." he murmured, voice laced with quiet admiration. "You're a good hero... Seiji."
'I wonder what makes you so unique. Of all the heroes I've encountered, you're the one who intrigues me the most.'
The hall fell silent, the mist outside thickening, as if the world itself held its breath. In that moment, a seed of true heroism had taken root not in victory, but in the unbreakable will to endure.