The days blurred together. The sun rose, the sun fell—and still Elric stood before the great boulder.Sweat rolled down his face. His palms were covered in cuts, blisters turned to scars, and yet he kept swinging.
How do I even break something this massive? he thought for the thousandth time. It's just a rock, but it feels like it's laughing at me!
He raised his sword again and struck.Clang!The impact rang through the air, echoing in the quiet forest.
Not even a scratch.
Elric stared at the blade. "This sword's fine… but I'm not," he muttered weakly. "If I can't even cut a rock, how the hell am I supposed to cut through shadows?"
He sat down beside the stone, exhausted. His sword dropped from his hand, the blade half-buried in the soil. His breath came in ragged gasps.
That night, he didn't even go home.He curled up beside the same cold, unyielding boulder and whispered, "Tomorrow, I'll do better… I have to…"
Then he fell asleep under the starlit sky.
The next morning, the sun bathed the forest in gold. Elric woke up, rubbing his eyes. His body ached from head to toe. Every muscle screamed, every cut burned.
Still, he stood up, gripping his sword.
"Alright, you stupid rock," he said, glaring at it. "Round two."
He took his stance, just as Orin had taught him. But his breathing was uneven. He swung the sword again and again—each strike weaker than the last.
The blade hit the rock, again and again—Clang. Clang. Clang.
Nothing.
His arms trembled. He dropped to one knee, panting heavily."Damn it," he hissed, clutching his chest. "Why… why am I still so weak?"
He remembered Orin's words.Control your breath. Control your movements.
He closed his eyes, trying to steady himself. But the moment he held his breath too long, his lungs burned.He coughed violently, falling to his knees.
My breathing still isn't right. I tire too easily… I'm not even close to Master Orin's level.
But he didn't give up.From that day onward, Elric devoted himself to mastering his breathing once more.He practiced until his chest hurt, until he collapsed. Then he stood again, and started over.
Half a year passed.
The forest changed with the seasons, but Elric remained the same—his figure a constant before the giant boulder.
Every morning he trained, every night he slept by the rock.He no longer complained. He no longer joked. His laziness had faded, burned away by the fire of persistence.
Yet, even after six months… the rock still stood untouched.
He struck it again. The sword bounced off.Elric stared at it, his breath heavy but steady.
"I'm stronger," he said quietly. "But still not strong enough."
He didn't rage. He didn't curse.He just gritted his teeth and kept going.
Months turned into a full year.
Elric's body changed. The once-lazy boy was gone. His muscles had grown defined, his stance firm, his swings precise. His abs showed faintly beneath his shirt, his hands now calloused like a true warrior's.
His eyes, once full of doubt, now gleamed with quiet fire.
Every morning began the same.Breathing exercises. Sword swings. Lifting heavy logs. Running miles through the forest.Every night ended the same.Falling asleep beside the rock that refused to break.
The people in nearby villages began whispering about the boy who trained without rest."The stone won't break," they said."But neither will he."
One afternoon, as Elric stood before the boulder again, sweat dripping from his chin, he raised his sword high.
"This is it," he whispered. "A full year. Today's the day."
He focused his breathing. The world seemed to quiet down.Wind rustled through the leaves.He swung with all his might—
CLANG!
The sword bounced back violently, nearly slipping from his grip. A thin crack appeared on the blade. The rock didn't even flinch.
Elric froze. His heart sank.Not even a line… after all this time…
He fell to his knees, exhausted, when suddenly—
A voice.
"That form is wrong."
He turned sharply.
A girl stood a few steps away, half-hidden by the mist drifting between the trees. She looked around his age—slender, graceful, with hair that shimmered faintly in the sunlight. Her clothes fluttered lightly in the breeze.
For a moment, Elric forgot how to breathe.
"Uh… wh-who are you?" he stammered. "And—uh—you were watching me, weren't you?"
The girl tilted her head slightly, her expression calm, almost teasing."You're doing it wrong," she said again. "Your stance is too stiff. You're forcing the swing. The stone doesn't need power—it needs rhythm."
Elric blinked. "Rhythm? What do you mean rhythm? It's a rock, not a music instrument!"
The girl smiled faintly, her eyes glimmering like moonlight.
Before Elric could say another word—she vanished.Gone. As if carried away by the wind.
Elric spun around wildly. "H-Hey! Wait! What do you mean I'm wrong?!"No response. Only silence.
He rubbed his eyes, muttering, "Did I just hallucinate? Or did a random forest fairy just roast my sword skills?"
He sat down, scratching his head. "First, rocks bully me. Now, mysterious girls show up to insult my form. Great. Just great."
But deep down… her words stung.She said my form was wrong. But I've been training for a year… How could it still be wrong?
He glanced at his sword, then at the stone.Maybe… maybe she was right.
That night, Elric didn't sleep.
He replayed her voice again and again in his head."The stone doesn't need power—it needs rhythm."
He gritted his teeth.Fine. I'll find that rhythm.
The next morning, he began anew.
He stopped swinging blindly. He started listening—to the sound of the wind, the heartbeat of the forest, the rhythm of his own breathing.
He slowed his movements, letting the sword follow the flow of his breath.Swing after swing, his form began to change—smoother, more natural.
Days passed.Weeks passed.
He began to notice it—the faint hum of the blade cutting through the air.He could feel the stone differently now, as if it wasn't just an obstacle… but a teacher.
Still, the boulder didn't break.But something inside Elric had.
His doubt.
Exactly two years after the day he first faced the stone, Elric stood before it once more.The forest was silent.
He looked stronger, calmer. His eyes burned with purpose.He drew his sword slowly. The air seemed to shift around him.
"Let's try again," he whispered.
He took a deep breath.Steady. Controlled. Calm.
Then—he swung.
WHOOSH—!
The sound was different this time. Sharp. Clear. The blade cut through the air like it belonged there.
The moment the sword met the stone, a deep echo rang through the forest.A faint crack appeared on the boulder's surface.
Elric froze. His breath hitched.
Then, slowly… the crack spread.
His eyes widened.
Did… did I just…?
The massive rock split slightly at the center—a small line, but real.
Elric fell to his knees, laughing breathlessly. "I… I did it… It's not much, but… I actually did it!"
He raised his sword toward the sky."Master Orin! I'm not done yet, but I'll get there! Just you wait!"
As he laughed, the wind blew softly through the trees.A faint whisper reached his ears—
"Better. But not enough."
Elric froze.That same voice.
He turned sharply—but no one was there.
The air was still.Only the sound of rustling leaves.
Elric stood there, the hair on his arms rising.He gripped his sword tighter.
"She's here again…" he whispered. "Who are you?"
The forest didn't answer.
Only a single petal floated down and landed near his foot—white and glowing faintly.
Elric bent down to pick it up.The moment he touched it, a sharp breeze passed through the clearing, carrying away the last echo of that mysterious voice.
He looked up at the sky, determination burning in his eyes.
Whoever she is… she knows something. And I'll find her.
He turned back to the stone, eyes hardening once again."The next time I swing this sword… it won't be just a crack."