Chapter 8: The Mantra of Fire

Kael descended to the training grounds at the first light of dawn, following Grimm's strict instructions. The "physical conditioning" program Grimm had designed was far more grueling than he had imagined. As a morning routine, Grimm had ordered him to run 10 kilometers, followed by 2,000 swings of his wooden practice sword. By the time Kael reached his 1,000th swing, his arms felt like lead. At that exact moment, Grimm appeared beside him like a looming shadow. "You're slowing down," he said, his voice as sharp and cold as a blade. Grimm tapped a microscopic flaw in Kael's stance with a thin wooden rod. The strike was so fast that Kael could only react once the sting hit his skin.

"Don't just swing the sword; feel as if you are one with it. If that blade isn't an extension of your own limb, it's nothing more than a piece of scrap wood," Grimm stated. Before Kael could even take a breath, Grimm's legendary Warrior Aura surged with sudden intensity. The air turned ice-cold. Kael felt as if he were standing before an immovable, titan-like mountain rather than a man. The pressure was so immense that his knees threatened to buckle. As the crushing weight bore down on him, Kael's mind began to haze. Just as he was about to collapse and give in, a flash of memory hit him: his village engulfed in flames and the haunting final look in his mother's eyes. A vow ignited in his heart like a burning ember—he would never lose anything again; he would never be helpless. Clenching his teeth, Kael forced himself upright despite his trembling legs and gripped the wooden sword tighter.

Grimm leaned in, whispering into Kael's eyes, "Exhaustion is a luxury you cannot afford when death is at your throat. Now, perform the remaining 1,000 swings as if every single one is the strike that saves your life! Begin!" Driven by the chilling yet motivating force of Grimm's will, Kael felt his blood boil once more. Fear transformed into raw ambition. He began his final sets using not just his muscles, but his entire willpower.

By the time he finished, Kael was drenched in sweat, his lungs burning and his strength utterly spent. After a brief moment to catch his breath, he made his way to the manor's garden for Pyros's lesson.

He found Pyros waiting beside a shimmering, metallic figure. Surprised, Kael asked, "Master, what is this?"

Pyros gestured proudly to the figure. "This is our training dummy, lad. It's forged entirely from Mithril. Mithril is the most magic-resistant ore in existence; we'll use it to measure the true force of your spells and push your limits. Today, we shall discuss the most fundamental yet overlooked concept in magic: Mana Density."

Pyros conjured a simple, 1st-circle fireball in his palm. "Watch closely," he said. Before Kael's eyes, the small flame swelled into a massive sphere of fire. Pyros launched the roaring blaze at the Mithril dummy. The sheer force of the explosion sent a wave of scorching air that knocked the wind out of Kael and blurred his vision. As the dust settled, the sight was staggering: the massive fireball had detonated, but the Mithril dummy remained without a single scratch.

Then, Pyros created another fireball, but this one was only the size of a walnut. However, this flame was far brighter and more intense than the previous one. The moment the tiny sphere touched the dummy, a terrifying explosion rocked the garden. The destruction it caused was far greater than the massive fireball from moments ago. Kael recoiled in shock.

"I understand your confusion," Pyros said calmly. "There is a common misconception in magic: that size equals power. In truth, real power lies within the Core of the spell." Pyros conjured the small flame again and brought it closer to Kael. "Do you see that deep crimson hue at the center? That is the core. Instead of spreading your mana over a large area, if you compress it into that center, you can execute devastating attacks even with a 1st-circle spell. The more you focus and channel your mana into it, the more violent the explosion becomes."

The pieces began to fall into place in Kael's mind. Pyros continued, "I call this the 'Fire Bullet' because it possesses the piercing and focused power of a projectile." Pyros extended his hand, and dozens of tiny fire bullets manifested around him. He launched them all at once in a lethal volley against the dummy. Seeing even the magic-resistant Mithril begin to wear down under the barrage, Kael was filled with awe. To see a 6th-circle mage control so many projectiles simultaneously was incredible. "Will I ever be this strong?" he wondered.

"Focus, Kael!" Pyros barked, noticing his student's distraction.

"Yes, Master, I'm sorry. That was incredible, but I don't think I can even control one of those yet," Kael admitted sheepishly.

"You will, with enough practice. First, we will learn to control two bullets at once. Once you master that, we'll move to three, four, and so on. This training isn't just for the Fire Bullet; it's essential for controlling the high-circle spells you'll learn later. And then, there is the matter of Incantations..." Pyros grew serious. "Beginner mages often use spoken spells, or Mantras, to focus. You can perform silent magic up to the 2nd circle, which is a remarkable talent. However, high-level spells defy the laws of nature and require 'Ancient Words'—a divine order. Watch now, I will show you a 5th-circle incantation. Etch the mantra and the movements of the staff into your mind."

Pyros leveled his staff at the Mithril dummy. The air turned vacuum-still as the surrounding mana began to swirl in visible crimson ribbons. His robes billowed under an invisible pressure. In a deep, resonant voice, Pyros whispered the ancient mantra:

"O essence of the eternal flame, unite with the heavens' wrath! Seal the fury of unquenchable embers into the heart of my foe: Inferno Strike!"

The mana gathered at the tip of the staff flared as bright as a miniature sun before erupting into a beam of pure, white energy that roared toward the dummy. The light was so blinding that Kael had to shield his eyes. The shockwave from the impact stripped the leaves from the nearby trees. When the smoke cleared, the chest of the indestructible Mithril dummy was glowing a molten red, radiating intense heat. Kael was left speechless by the raw, destructive power of the 5th circle.

At the end of the lesson, Pyros's eyes fell upon the black dot on Kael's palm. "Kael, did you draw that mark on your hand yourself?"

"No, Master," Kael replied. "My mother drew it to help me focus while she was teaching me magic."

Pyros smiled with genuine surprise. "This technique is very different from what is taught in the academies, but it is incredibly logical. Your mother was truly a wise teacher."

"Thank you, Master. I owe my foundation to her."

After the lesson, Kael remained on the training grounds to practice the "Fire Bullet" on his own. However, the more mana he channeled into the core, the more the flame flickered in his palm, becoming harder to control. Fear of it exploding in his hand hindered his focus. Suddenly, he felt a gust of wind rush past him like a jet; a single strike shattered a nearby wooden dummy into splinters.

Zephyros approached with a chuckle. "Practicing the mana bullet, are we, lad?"

"Ah, Uncle... Master Pyros showed me today, but it's not working like his. I feel like it's going to blow up in my hand the more I focus."

Zephyros placed a hand on his nephew's shoulder. "That fear is natural, Kael. The main goal of control in magic is to ensure we don't harm ourselves. It's good that you're aware of it. As your body and mana develop, that fear will turn into confidence. But you look exhausted; you must know your limits. We wouldn't want you collapsing out here, ha!" he laughed heartily.

Kael smiled back. "You're right, Uncle. I think I'm starving."

Zephyros led the way cheerfully. "Ha ha! Come on then, let's see what kind of feast Elias has prepared for us!"