The first rays of dawn spilled across the mountain, painting the horizon in golden streaks. Elric woke with a sore body, bruises still marking his skin from the night's ordeal. His muscles screamed with pain, but deep within, his heart burned with determination.
Master Orin stood outside the small wooden house, his arms folded, his sharp gaze fixed on Elric. The old man's presence was heavy, almost suffocating—like the mountain itself demanded obedience through him.
"Elric," Orin's voice cut through the crisp air. "If you wish to fight shadows, strength alone will not save you. First, you must learn to master the simplest thing in your body… your breathing."
Elric blinked, confused. "Breathing? But master, I already breathe."
Orin smirked. "Yes. You breathe like a child running after chickens in a village. Shallow, weak, and without discipline. One strike from a cursed shadow, and your lungs will collapse before your blade even moves. You must turn your breath into your greatest weapon."
Elric clenched his fists, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. But he quickly bowed. "Yes, Master. Please, guide me."
"Sit down," Orin commanded.
Elric sat cross-legged on the rocky ground, the morning air biting at his skin.
"Now," Orin said, "close your eyes. Forget the world. Forget me. Forget your pain. Focus only on the air around you."
Elric obeyed, shutting his eyes. The sounds of chirping birds faded. Even the coldness of the stone beneath him disappeared. Slowly, he inhaled, trying to take a long, steady breath.
But within seconds, his lungs burned. His chest tightened. He coughed violently, breaking the silence.
Orin's frown deepened. "Pathetic. Your body has been lazy for years. But don't be discouraged. The strongest warriors were once the weakest boys."
Elric gritted his teeth. "I won't give up."
"Good. Again," Orin barked.
This time, Elric inhaled more slowly. The air filled his lungs like a rushing river, yet he tried to control it, to hold it, to use it. His body trembled, but he forced himself to stay calm. His vision darkened as his lungs screamed for release, and then—finally—he exhaled, steady and controlled.
Orin gave the faintest nod. "Better. Now, on your feet. We run."
Before Elric could even stand properly, Orin had already shot forward. The master moved like the wind itself, his steps so light that the earth barely felt them.
Elric's jaw dropped. "H-hey! Wait for me!"
He stumbled forward, his legs heavy, his breath uneven. But this time, he remembered Orin's words. He inhaled deeply, held the air, and released it slowly as he ran.
At first, it didn't seem to help. His lungs still hurt, his chest still burned. But then—gradually—he noticed something. His legs felt lighter. His heart wasn't pounding as painfully. For the first time, he could feel rhythm in his movements.
A grin tugged at his lips. "It's working…"
Of course, Orin was still far ahead—so far ahead that Elric could barely see him. It was like chasing a storm cloud. But Elric kept his focus on breathing, step after step, refusing to stop.
After hours of relentless running, Orin finally stood still, waiting at the top of the mountain. He looked as calm as if he had just taken a stroll.
Meanwhile, Elric collapsed to his knees, gasping, his shirt drenched with sweat. "H-how… are you… not tired?"
Orin raised an eyebrow. "Because I breathe correctly. Unlike you."
Elric groaned. "You're… not human."
Orin smirked. "Neither are shadows. That's why we train."
As Elric struggled to his feet, Orin pointed toward the dark forest ahead.
"Your next task—run through the forest."
Elric's eyes widened. "But Master… I crossed this forest yesterday. It was full of traps, pits, and ropes. I barely survived!"
Orin's expression hardened. "And yet, you stand here now. Do you think the shadows will wait until you're ready? The forest is nothing compared to what you'll face in the future. If you cannot cross this again, you have no place in my training."
Elric's stomach sank, but he nodded. "Yes, Master."
"Good. Then breathe, and move. I'll be watching."
Before Elric could ask how, Orin's form blurred. In the blink of an eye, he vanished into thin air, leaving behind nothing but a wisp of smoke.
Elric gasped. "W-what the—?! Did he just… disappear?!"
He waved his arms in the empty air where Orin had been. "No way! That wasn't running, that was straight-up magic!"
But deep inside, he knew—Orin had moved so fast, his eyes simply couldn't catch it.
Elric groaned. "Great. My master is a ghost with turbo speed. And I'm just a half-dead villager with sore lungs."
Still, he clenched his fists. "Fine. If he wants me to run through the forest, then I will."
And with a deep breath, he plunged into the shadows of the forest once more.
The forest greeted him with rustling leaves and the faint sound of unseen creatures. Memories of the traps from the previous night returned, but this time Elric was prepared. He breathed deeply, letting calmness guide his steps.
The ground trembled beneath him as he moved. A pit lay ahead—this time he noticed it before stepping forward. He leaped, clearing it with newfound energy.
"Not today," Elric muttered.
A rope stretched low across the path again. This time, he ducked, sliding across the dirt with a grin.
"Ha! Missed me!"
But the net—oh, the net still got him. In an instant, his feet tangled, and he was yanked upside down once more.
"Are you kidding me? AGAIN?!" Elric groaned as he swung helplessly.
With a sigh, he pulled out his knife and cut himself free, landing hard on his back. Pain surged, but he laughed through it. "Well… at least I knew it was coming."
Every fall, every stumble, every cut—he endured them. And every time, his breathing became steadier. His movements sharper. Slowly but surely, he was changing.
By the time he reached the edge of the forest, the sun had dipped low in the sky. His body was battered, but his spirit was unbroken.
Orin stood there, waiting, as though he had been standing all day. His sharp eyes studied Elric's exhausted figure.
"You look half-dead," Orin said.
Elric wiped the sweat from his brow. "I… did my best."
A long silence followed. Then, faintly, Orin's lips curved into the smallest of smiles.
"Not bad. You are still weak. Still slow. Still foolish. But…" He stepped forward. "For the first time, you truly took a step toward being more than just a boy. From now, your real training begins."
Elric felt a spark ignite in his chest. He bowed deeply. "Thank you, Master. I won't stop here. I'll surpass even the shadows."
Orin turned away, his voice low. "We'll see if you survive long enough to prove that."
And with that, the training of Elric—the Shadow Slayer—had truly begun.
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"Elric has finally begun his true training, starting with the breathing technique that could save—or doom—him in the battles to come. But can he really catch up to Orin's inhuman speed? Can breathing alone turn a weak boy into a slayer strong enough to face the cursed shadows?