The air in training yard grew still, pressing down with the weight of a solemn vow. He led Ronin to a flat stone and gestured for him to sit. The boy obeyed, his pupils locked onto Hurt's crimson eyes, the fire of determination burning within them.
Hurt sighed, his voice setting into an instructional cadence. "Before a single spark of power is taught you, you must understand the foundation of what you are. Of everything."
Ronin scratched his head. "What's there to know? I am great Ronin Hirata."
Hurt stepped forward and tapped a finger gently against Ronin's chest, right over his beating heart. "Not your name. Your nature. The nature of reality. You will learn the Three Pillars of Magic."
He closed his fist. When he opened it, three distinct, vibrant energy fields materialized, hovering above his palm.
First, a divine, shimmering gold.
Second, a flowing, mercury silver—like living moonlight.
Third, a deep, pulsing crimson, the color of heart's blood.
"These," Hurt intoned, "are the pillars upon which all existence is built. Everything begins here."
He pointed at the golden field. "This is Arcane Energy. The Primordial Force. It is the raw potential of the cosmos, the clay from which all magic is shaped. Without it, there is no Divination, no Alchemy, no Shamanism... not even my Cursed Sorcery. It is the source."
Ronin straightened his spine, curiosity sparkling in his eyes. "But where does it come from?"
A slight smirk touched Hurt's lips. "A good question. It is not created. It was manifested. Eons ago, when humanity was weak and preyed upon, they cried out—not in rage, but in desperate hope. Their collective prayers, their faith, their sheer will to exist... it coalesced into a force. That force is Arcane Energy. We learned to manipulate it. Others learned to shape it into different arts. Thus, sorcery was born."
Ronin nodded slowly, absorbing the mystic scale of it. "So... spells are made from Arcane Energy?"
"A half-truth," Hurt said, shifting his finger to the silver field. "Arcane Energy is primordial, violent, untamed. To wield it directly would destroy you. So, we found a bridge. Mental Energy. It is the will, the focus, the imagination of the caster. It is the lens that stabilizes the raw Arcane force, calms it, and gives a spell its precise shape and purpose."
Ronin opened his mouth to speak, but Hurt anticipated him.
Hurt said. "Now you want to ask what is the source of Mental Energy?"
Ronin was utterly surprised. "How did you know? Did you read my mind?"
Hurt low chuckled. "No. I have known you for a very long time, and I know what you ask and your thoughts. Mental Energy is the infinite wellspring of the conscious mind. But 'Infinite' does not mean 'easily accessed'. The law is simple: weak focus yields to weak spells. Perfect focus... yields the unbreakable spells."
Ronin's gaze drifted to the final, crimson field. " And that one? The red one. Is it another... cool and mystical magical thing?"
Hurt's expression grew solemn as he looked at the pulsating crimson field. He let the silence stretch before continuing. "This is Physical Energy. Physical Energy is simple, the stamina of your flesh. The fuel of your life force."
Ronin's face twisted in perplexity. "My stamina? How does that help to cast spells?"
"It is the catalyst," Hurt explained, his voice deepening. "When ancient sorcerers mastered Arcane and Mental energies, they found a limit to their power's intensity. Then they discovered a truth: the body itself could be offered as kindling. By channeling one's own vitality, the smallest spark could be magnified into a conflagration capable of vaporizing an entire river. Physical Energy becomes a catalyst for the intensity and potency of the spell."
He met Ronin's gaze squarely. "But it is a double-edged sword. Overuse will exhaust you. Reckless use can cripple you. A fool's use will kill you. Your physical energy is a sacred reserve. Respect it."
Ronin swallowed hard. "So... dangerous. I'll be careful."
Hurt closed his fist, snuffing out the three fields. His voice held the weight of ancient wisdom. "These are the Three Pillars. The Primordial Force. The Willpower, and Body's Fuel. Unite them..."
He opened his palm. A small, perfectly formed fireball roared to life above it, a miniature sun contained by his will.
"... and you command magic."
WHOOSH.
He flicked his wrist. The fireball across the yard, striking a training dummy. It didn't just burn; it consumed, reducing the figure to in fine, smoking ash in an instant.
Ronin's eyes widened, sparkling with raw, untamed awe. He leaped onto his feet, grabbing Hurt's hand and tugging him down.
"TEACH ME!! NOW!!"
Hurt stumbled, nearly losing his balance. "Easy, little prince! Knowledge of the pillars is not the same as wielding them. You start with the basics."
Ronin rubbed the back of his neck, his excitement giving way to a sheepish grin. "But, I thought I could shoot lasers right away..."
A genuine, warm chuckle escaped from Hurt. "Patience. That excitement is a fuel of its own. Now, listen closely. You have the map of the world. Now you must learn the path you will walk upon it: the basics of Cursed Sorcery."
Hurt waved his hand. Two new spheres manifested. One was the familiar dark, bruise-gray of Hurt's power. The other was a bright, violently churning violet. They began to orbit each other like twin, opposing planets.
"Cursed Sorcery has two main branches," Hurt explained, holding the gray sphere in his right palm. "Necrotic Arts and Cursed Techniques. Necrotic energy is harnessed from the stillness of death—from dead corpses, from graves, from remains, from the silent energy of the afterlife itself. Cursed Energy..."
He gestured at the violet sphere, "... is different. It is Arcane Energy, inverted. It is forged not from hope, but from the negativity within you. Despair. Rage. Hatred. Terror. These are not weaknesses to be purged. In this path, they are the ore from which your true strength is smelted."
He closed his fist, extinguishing the spheres. The intensity in his crimson eyes shifted, revealing a layer of profound, somber knowledge Ronin had never seen before.
Hurt knelt, bringing himself to Ronin's eye level. His voice was low, calm, and carried the gravity of a final warning.
"Cursed Sorcery is not demonic rituals or raising corpses. Necrotic Arts teaches that death is the ultimate, neutral truth of nature. Cursed Techniques teaches that your darkest emotions are not chains, but weapons to fight your way back from the abyss."
He searched the boy's face, his next words a blade of pure finality. "Knowing this... are you certain? Once this path is taken, there is no returning to what you were."
Ronin closed his eyes. He took a deep, steadying breath, the air of the yard cool in his lungs
When he opened them, there was no childish excitement, only a clear, serene confidence.
"I am certain I am ready."
***
The path was now clear.
Armed with the laws of magic and a full understanding of the horrific price,
Ronin's journey as a sorcerer truly began.
He had taken his first, irreversible step.