To Be Celebrated

“If you want to start using your life force, you’ll need perfect mana control,” my mother said, tilting her head. “Well. not perfect, but close.”

“Yes, ma’am. But uhm, why do I need that?”

“Well, life force behaves like mana, but it’s far more volatile,” she said. “To use it safely, you’ll need near-perfect control. Not just to wield it, but to survive it.”

I tensed at the word survive. I really could've died back then.

“If you draw too much at once, it won’t just drain you, it could tear your body apart. What happened to you last time?” She paused. “That was just a glimpse. You’re lucky you were born into that generation.” She spoke calmly, too calmly. I knew she was doing it to keep me from panicking, but somehow that only made me more anxious.

She mentioned that generation again. I have to say something about it.

“Uh, mother. I remember father talking about me being born into the ‘celebrated generation’ and you just said something like it again. What does it mean?”

“Oh, don't worry about it for now. I’ll tell you about it when you’re older.” She brushed it off as if it wasn’t anything important. But I had a feeling that it had something to do with all the other reincarnates. “Right now you should only worry about training and nothing else… that’s so concerning.” Her voice was a little shaky and she looked off to the side.

“Oh… okay then.” I didn’t want to keep pushing at it. It seemed like a sensitive topic. But at the same time, why does she seem so sad? 

It’s called the ‘celebrated generation’ for a reason right? Shouldn’t she be happy.

She suddenly turned back to me while wiping her eyes. “So, where was I?”

“Uh, you were talking about life force.”

“Oh yeah, that. When life force is turned into malif  it's raw power. It doesn’t trickle out like mana. You try to use a drop, and you might spill a flood. That’s why we train your control first. So you can measure exactly how much you use. No more. No less.”

I raised my hand like we were in a classroom. “Uh, so... how do I practice that?” 

“Good question,” she pointed. “By learning to control how much mana you give off.”

I tilted my head. “What does that mean?”

“When you look at me, what do you see?”

“Uh... you?”

She sighed. “Right. Should’ve been more specific.” She stepped back and exhaled slowly. A white aura bloomed around her body. The feeling that it gave me, it felt similar. Like that time the cloaked man walked in. This feeling, it has to be the pressure of mana. But my mother's pressure didn't have as much weight as that man. So he is much more powerful than her.

“Woah. Did you just get stronger?”

“Nope. I just stopped suppressing my mana.”

“Suppressing?”

“Yeah. Everyone has mana, and it’s always radiating from them. Normally, you can’t see it—but you can feel it. And if you enhance your eyes, you can see it. Mages use aura size and intensity to judge someone’s strength.”

“So if you hide your aura, you can trick people into thinking you’re weaker?”

“Exactly.” My mother patted my head. “But it’s not easy. You need to be steady and stable. There has to be no spikes, no drops, and no fluctuations.”

Now it made sense why she wants me to practice this. Suppressing my mana required precise mana control. And this way of training isn't anything dangerous too.

From that day on, my mother told me to suppress my mana during everything: while training, fighting, and even when I wasn’t doing anything, I would just have to keep it suppressed. She told me that I would have to do it manually at first but once I get used to it, it would be like breathing. I wouldn’t even notice that I was doing it.

But as of now, it’s a constant pain in my ass. Well, at first it was kind of easy. But the moment I moved too fast, enhanced a limb, or cast a spell, my control slipped and my aura flared. Mother would catch this slip up every time and scold me for it. I knew that she was just trying to be helpful but this mana suppressing thing is annoying.

And just when that was driving me nuts, Dad stepped in.

“Yakusei, remember when I told you that your body might explode if you pumped in too much mana?”

He scratched the back of his head. “Only a little. It’s not like it can happen, or at least I don’t think it can, but you can get really hurt if you don’t be careful. So that’s what I want to fix.”

“Fix... how?” I asked.

Please don’t tell me there’s a whole nother training practice I have to do.

“By training,” he smiled.

Kill me.

I let out a tired sigh. “So how would I do this?”

“It’s better if I show you rather than explain.” He walked over to my side and closed his eyes. “Now focus.” I immediately copied his stance and closed my eyes. “Now focus on the mana moving through your body. Feel it. Then push it into your muscles. Enhance them. Use the fire attribute. It’s perfect for strength training.”

A warmth spread through my entire body. This wasn’t anything new though so I was confused on how it was some kind of training.

“You feel that?” he said. I nodded. “Now keep adding mana. Bit by bit. Until it hurts. Until the pain is something that you can barely withstand.”

Bit by bit I added more mana. As the mana flowed through my body, I forced it into my muscles. I felt my muscle pump up and tense. The pain was starting to build up, I gritted my teeth as pain stabbed through my arms, legs, and entire body. It felt like being stung by a million hot needles. Every limb and every muscle was in pure agony. “I-it burns.” I was barely able to muster out. Hell, I was barely able to stand.

“Perfect, now hold it. Don’t release it no matter what. Do this until you collapse from exhaustion or until you run out of mana.”

He kept his voice calm. “This training does four things. It builds physical strength. Conditions your body to handle life force. Expands your mana capacity. And teaches you control, if you can suppress your aura while this much mana is surging through you, you can do it anytime.”

Every part of me screamed, like it was begging me to stop. I could barely focus on what my father was saying but I held all the mana into my muscles. I won't stop. I can't stop. If this was the best way to train then I’m willing to go through it. This wasn’t just training. It was survival prep.

“This,” he said, voice calm, “is how we make your body strong enough for life force. It’s also how we keep it from breaking you.”

I held on. For a second. Then another. My aura flared.

“Yakusei,” my mother’s voice cut in, sharper than usual. “Don’t lose it.”

I clenched harder. My knees buckled, but I didn’t fall. Then I felt it, all my limbs went numb. I guess that was everything my body could withstand. When it was over, I collapsed into the dirt.

“You lasted a lot longer than most,” my father picked me up. “But next time, don’t let your mana flare out like that.”

"Got it." I mumbled. 

My mother later healed me and we had dinner. While eating, I was quiet. I thought about what had happened earlier with my mother. Normally, she would be concerned for my well-being, so when she said “Don’t lose it,” it caught me off guard. I thought she was going to step in to stop my father from putting me through this. Even though it’s what I wanted, it made me sad that she didn’t step in.

“So,” father said. “How do you feel about this training?”

…

“Ahem!” I immediately looked up and noticed that Father was staring right at me. “So, how do you feel about this training?”

“Horrible.”

“That’s good. It means that it’s working.”

“If you don’t enjoy it then you could always stop.” My mother chimed in. “You don’t have to push yourself so hard, mana suppression training alone could prepare you to use malif.”

“I can’t.” I said. “I need to be strong. I want to keep up with this.” I looked directly at my father, “No matter how much it sucks.”

He laughed, “That’s what I want to hear.”

“Okay then,” my mother sighed. “I won’t go easy on you too then.”

So I guess what she did earlier was just her not going easy on me. It’s nice to see that she’s worried about me.

“But if you end up dying then I’ll chase you to the afterlife and beat the hell out of you.” she added.

I stood up and saluted her, “Yes ma’am. I won’t die.”

“Calm down, soldier,” my father said. “She doesn’t really mean it.”

She shot him a look. “Don’t take these as threats. They’re promises.”

He paled slightly and stood up. He saluted her and said, “Yes ma’am. I won’t let him die.”

We all laughed, and finally sat down to eat.

“By the way,” I said, “What does the ‘celebrated generation' mean?”

Both of my parents dropped their forks, as if I had told them I robbed a bank.

“It’s—” my father said.

“Don’t tell him yet,” Mother cut him off. “He’s young. He shouldn’t have to carry this kind of burden at his age.”

“I understand that, but… he’s already going through so much. We might as well just tell him. I know he can handle it. It’s not like many other children are worried about a cloaked man killing their family.”

Mother sighed then turned over to me. “The ‘celebrated generation’ refers to people born with immense power. “They’re born with stronger bodies and life force than most. And as you know, your life force connects to your mana, which makes you a more powerful mage or warrior. On top of that, they can summon a magical weapon or have a special ability. These people tend to be overwhelmingly powerful. This generation would be born once every one hundred.”

“But all of that sounds like a good thing,” I said.

“I haven't finished.” my mother said. “But do you know what else happens every hundred years?”

I tilted my head at her.

“The Demon King is reborn. All children from the ‘celebrated generation’ are tasked with defeating him. Some say that those children are born into this world for one thing and one thing alone. To kill the demon king.”

That must be it. All of the reincarnates are a part of this generation. But why does she sound so worried?

“But with that many powerful people, the Demon King will surely be beaten. Right?”

“He will, but not without a cost,” she said, looking down at her food, terrified. “At most, only one percent of mages or warriors who face the Demon King will make it out alive.”

That’s why he told me that most people aren’t able to handle what’s coming up.

The room went silent. Both of them looked stiff; they couldn’t even look up. Now I know why they didn’t want to tell me. I basically made them talk about their child's certain death. I had to say something to cheer them up.

“Then… Then I’ll be a part of that one percent.”

They both looked up at me, sadness lingering in their eyes. The happiness we shared early seemed to be completely gone. “It’s not that easy, son—”

“I’m training this much for a reason, right?” I interrupted him. I smiled and said, “Once the time comes, I promise to come out alive.”

A tear rolled down my mother’s cheek, but she smiled. “You better keep that promise then,” she said.

“I will.”

Every day became a brutal routine of training. I’d wake up and clamp down on my mana. I wouldn’t let it slip, not even for a second. From the moment I woke up to the moment I passed out at night, I kept it suppressed. The constant tension made sleep almost impossible. My mind was constantly tired from doing this, but I knew I had to get used to it. Mother said that once I got used to it, suppression would become second nature, and my control would sharpen. So until then, I’ll endure.

First came sword training with my father. That’s where I practiced switching aspects mid-attack, from lightning to fire when landing a blow, and lightning to earth when taking one. It was extremely difficult at first, but the more I did it, the more natural it became. Eventually, I was even able to suppress my mana while doing it.

After that, it was spellcasting with my mother. We launched blast after blast to stretch my mana reserves. She’d have me create specific spells to get used to releasing elements and channeling different attributes. Honestly, I didn’t mind this type of training. It was actually fun; especially when my mother praised me for pulling something off.

While training, she said, “There’s one more thing I need to teach you.”

“What is it?” I asked.

“Shoot me.”

“Huh?”

“Just do it.”

“Uh… okay.” I raised my hand and charged up a basic mana blast. I wasn’t anything strong. I didn’t want to hurt her, so I fired off a weak shot, barely more than a glowing sparkle drifting through the air.

My mother swatted it away with her hand. “Are you insulting me?”

Maybe I went too easy.

“N-no, I just didn’t want—”

“Come on now, give it all you’ve got.” She flashed a smug grin. “Don’t tell me after all this training you’re still weak.”

That hit a nerve. “Fine,” I muttered. “I’ll give it everything I’ve got!”

I raised my hand again, this time pouring fire mana into the blast until I could barely control it. The power kept building until I couldn’t hold it anymore. Then…

BOOM

It launched with force, racing toward her, but stopped short. A wall of mana shimmered in front of her. She stood there, still smirking and completely unscathed.

“This,” she said, “is a defensive spell. It can block most kinds of attacks. Being a mage isn’t just about offense.”

“Woah! How’d you do it?”

“First, you picture the shield’s shape. Sometimes you’ll need it small, sometimes wide. Then you create it with earth mana; earth is perfect for shaping. Once you’ve got the structure, reinforce it with more earth mana.”

“Okay.” I raised my hand and pictured a barrier in front of me. I shaped the image with earth mana until it appeared, then reinforced it with more. “Is this it?”

“Not quite. The last step is the hardest: water mana.” She pointed to the barrier. “Water mana helps distribute the force of impact across the whole barrier. Without it, a strong hit would crack the point of contact. With it, the force spreads, and the barrier holds.”

“So water mana affects the flow?”

“Exactly. But it takes precise control. No shortcuts there. Practice, and you’ll get it.”

“How is it now?”

“Let’s see.” She immediately raised her hand and fired a powerful shot. It shattered my barrier and sent me flying. Mother rushed over and offered me her hand. “It could use some work.”

She could’ve just told me without sending me flying.

“Alright. I’ll keep working at it.”

After this, defensive training became part of the routine. During our sessions, my mother would often tell me I had a real knack for magic. This really got me pumped to keep practicing magic. So I kept going, pushing myself harder each time. When I finally burned out, she’d tap into her life force to heal me. She healed both my mana and the damage to my body. It was training for her, too: controlled life force use in a live setting.

Then came the worst part.

My father would guide me through the body-enhancement drills, forcing more mana into my muscles until the pain was unbearable. This wasn’t about using a lot of mana; it was about using just enough to build muscle and tolerance. It was also about control and enduring strain, learning to survive the pressure I’d one day feel when channeling life force.

I’d push myself until I collapsed. Not from mana exhaustion, but from pain. And through all of it, even while my body screamed, I never let my aura slip. I kept my mana suppressed.

That brutal routine continued for years, until I turned sixteen. Then one day, a carriage too fine for our rural area stopped outside our door. My parents stiffened and their faces drained of color. My gut twisted. Was this it? Had he finally come back?

My gut twisted with dread. One question had haunted me for years.

Am I ready?