The two weeks following Zhilian's departure passed according to a rhythm Hayjin had never known in his previous life. On Alius, time was not marked by the frantic ticking of a digital clock or academic deadlines, but by the breath of the Exilia forest: the rising of the moons, the song of crystal birds at dawn, and the scent of rain that arrived punctually every three days.
For Hayjin, that period was a total immersion into a reality he was learning to love and respect. His day began when the first ray of sun hit the floor of the cabin. Instead of waking up with the sense of anguish that had gripped him in his own world, he rose with a purpose.
The boy was no longer a passive guest; he had become an integral part of that microcosm. He helped Elara with domestic chores, discovering that cleaning the wooden floor or reorganizing the spice shelves had a meditative power. Elara, for her part, treated him with a tenderness he no longer dared to hope for. Every evening, when Hayjin curled up under the rough wool blanket, she would silently approach to tuck him in, brushing his hair from his forehead with a motherly gesture.
"Sleep well, little one," she would whisper, and for Hayjin, those words were more precious than any magic formula.
During the day, his bond with Rhaegalur was strengthened through physical labor. He helped him carry wood, learning to balance the weight of his own small body, using levers and centers of gravity instead of raw strength alone. Even outside the house, Hayjin had become the giant's shadow, observing how Rhaegalur interacted with the wild nature without ever subduing it, but becoming a part of it.
Despite his nostalgia for his chats with Zhilian and Wren's liveliness, Hayjin had never asked to go to Opes. He knew the royal palace was a viper's nest and that his power was still too unrefined. He preferred the safety of the Exilia shadows, where he could fail without being judged.
However, the core of his days remained his training. Not an hour passed in which Hayjin did not study how to improve his "Venturi Bullet." He had transformed an area of the forest not far away into a personal firing range. He had analyzed air density, humidity, and even temperature to understand how to make the ultrasonic whistle more lethal and faster.
Every day, the scenario was the same: Hayjin standing, arms outstretched, feverish gaze. A sharp whistle, a trail of distortion, and another Ironwood tree or a granite rock pierced or destroyed with millimetric precision. He had repeated that attack thousands of times, trying to reduce execution time and mana waste. He had become a war machine specialized in a single, devastating blow.
[2 and a half weeks later]
One afternoon, as the setting sun tinged the sky a burnt orange, Hayjin had just pulverized a boulder that reached his waist. Sweat trickled down his temples and his breath was short, but his eyes shone with scientific satisfaction.
"Another target eliminated. Lateral deviation: zero-point-two millimeters. Impact pressure: constant," he murmured to himself, marking the data in his mind.
"You're becoming an excellent sniper, kid."
Rhaegalur's deep voice made him jump. The giant was leaning against an ancient tree, arms crossed and his axe resting on the ground. He had been watching him for who knows how long.
"Rhaegalur! You scared me," Hayjin replied, trying to steady his breathing. "Did you see? I've stabilized the flow. By now I can pierce anything within a fifty-meter radius."
Rhaegalur stepped away from the trunk and walked toward him, his heavy steps making no sound on the moss. He looked around: riddled trees, stones reduced to gravel, broken branches. All the work of the same, identical method.
"Yes, I see it's going well," Rhaegalur said, but his tone wasn't entirely convinced. "Your precision is frightening and your dedication is... almost fanatical. In these two weeks, you haven't stopped for a second."
Hayjin arched an eyebrow, sensing a discordant note. "But? I feel like there's a 'but' coming. What's wrong? The results are objective, Rhaegalur. I'm taking down targets that Rank D mages would struggle to scratch."
Rhaegalur sighed, a gust of air that smelled of ozone and earth. "The problem, Hayjin, is that during this time you've been training alone, in a controlled environment. You've destroyed trees and rocks that just stay there, still, waiting to be hit. And above all..." The giant pointed to the boy's hands. "You always use the exact same attack. Every single time. Always with the same power, always with the same linear trajectory."
Hayjin crossed his arms, the old scientist's irritation resurfacing. "It's a perfect weapon! Why should I change a method that works? Repeatability is the basis of experimental success. If this shot kills, why should I learn ten mediocre ones?"
Rhaegalur gave a half-smile, one of those that made Hayjin feel suddenly very small. "Are you implying that you want to help me with my training?"
"No," the Dragon God replied dryly. "I'm not a physicist and I don't pretend to understand your air funnels. But I understand combat. And I understand the magic of Alius. If you truly want to enter that Academy already prepared, if you really want to be useful to Zhilian and Wren in the real world, you must understand one fundamental thing before you set foot in a classroom."
Hayjin waited, his heart accelerating not from fatigue, but from the realization that he was about to receive a lesson that couldn't be found in any physics book.
"Nature is not a fixed target, Hayjin. And the enemies of the Cult are not Ironwood trees. If you become a man capable of throwing only one kind of punch, it will only take one opponent capable of dodging it once to turn you into a corpse. Your science has given you a weapon, but it hasn't given you control yet."
Hayjin lowered his gaze to the pulverized rocks, feeling Rhaegalur's logic seep into his certainties. "What do you mean? What must I do before the Academy?"
Rhaegalur stared him straight in the eyes, and for a moment Hayjin saw in him the shadow of the ancient deity who commanded the storms. "Before you can command the wind, you must learn that the wind never flows in a straight line when it encounters an obstacle. You must learn variation."
The clearing opened up like a green lung in the heart of the forest. The grass was high, of an almost unreal emerald green, dotted with small wild flowers that swayed to an invisible rhythm. Rhaegalur stopped in the center of the space, letting the burlap sack slide to the ground with a dull thud.
"Look at this place, Hayjin," the giant murmured, spreading his arms. "Can you perceive how beautiful it is? It's a corner of Opes that time has forgotten to age."
Hayjin looked around, still out of breath from the previous training. "Yes, it's picturesque. Very… charming."
"Breathe, Hayjin. Fill your lungs. Can't you feel how fresh the air is here?"
Hayjin sighed but obeyed. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. The air was cold, pure, with an aftertaste of resin and dew that seemed to clear his thoughts. "Yes, it's great. Really. But now, if we're done with the sightseeing tour, I'd like to understand the reason we came here. Knowing you, I doubt you dragged me all the way here just for a walk or to breathe good air."
Rhaegalur looked down at him, and his expression suddenly became as hard as stone. "You're right. Look, if you want to have even a meager chance of facing the Cult, or surviving the Academy entrance tests, you have to stop thinking that the world is some kind of laboratory. You will face threats that know how to defend themselves, that know how to read you and, above all, know how to counterattack while you're still taking aim."
Hayjin crossed his arms, a cynical smirk curling his lips. "Oh, I see where you're going with this. Very classic. Now you'll probably summon one of your legendary dragons and tell me: 'Hayjin, defeat this fire-breathing beast with your air funnel.' Right?"
Rhaegalur shook his head, almost offended. "Face one of my dragons? You're way off, human. Even the smallest of my hatchlings would pulverize you in a tenth of a second without even noticing they'd stepped on you. It would be an execution, not training."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, huh? I knew I could count on your moral support," Hayjin replied sarcasticamente, rolling his eyes.
"Less talk, more action," Rhaegalur cut him short. "Get into position. Launch your attack toward the center of the clearing. I want to see your 'Venturi Bullet' at maximum power. Don't hold back. Destroy the air itself if necessary."
Hayjin arched an eyebrow, confused. There were no trees, no rocks, just grass and flowers. "Toward nothing? You're asking me to waste mana on empty space?"
"Execute, Hayjin. Now."
The boy huffed, but determination took over again. He planted himself firmly on the ground, extended his arm, and began to visualize the pressure walls. He felt the mana flow, compressed it into the invisible funnel, and, with a shout stifled by the effort, released the impulse.
WHISTLE.
The air distortion shot out like a lightning bolt, creating a furrow in the tall grass and sending petals flying everywhere. The shot crossed the clearing with unprecedented violence, then vanished into the distance among the trees on the opposite edge.
Hayjin lowered his arm, looking at the result. Nothing striking had happened. No boom, no destruction. "And so? Satisfied? I shot at nothing like you wanted. Now will you explain what the point was? I'm getting tired of these 'retired deity' riddles of yours, Rhaegalur!"
The giant didn't answer right away. He remained motionless, staring at the spot where the shot had passed. "Wait," he said simply, with a voice that sounded like a foreboding.
"Wait for what? For the grass to grow back? You made me waste a lot of "
Suddenly, Hayjin cut himself off. The air in the center of the clearing, exactly where his bullet had passed, began to vibrate. It wasn't a natural movement. It was as if space itself were folding in on itself.
From the shadow of the trampled grass, filaments of dark energy began to rise, dense as ink in water. In a few seconds, that shadow grew sharper and larger, taking the form of a gigantic figure with the appearance of a bear, covered in crystals on its back and radiating unstable mana. It had no face, only glowing slits in place of eyes.
"What... what is that thing?" Hayjin exclaimed, instinctively stepping back.
"That is a Crystal Beast," Rhaegalur explained, without moving a muscle. "Creatures that feed on the mana dispersed around their territory. You fired a powerful attack, but you left a trail of energy so dense that they were born just to consume it. And now, Hayjin, they are very hungry for you."
One of the creatures lunged forward with a speed that Hayjin's physics was not prepared to calculate. It didn't run; it glided through the void.
"The target is moving now, human," Rhaegalur said, crossing his arms. "Show me how you calculate the trajectory of a nightmare that has no mass."