---
The body learns faster than the mind.
Pain teaches faster than words.
And Kael's body—shattered, mended, reforged by Yami's merciless hand—had learned only one thing:
Survive.
Even if it meant becoming something less than human.
Even if it meant becoming something worse.
---
It was three days after the first "lesson" that Yami spoke again.
No lectures.
No training.
Only this:
"You're coming."
Kael didn't ask where.
Didn't need to.
The look in Yami's eyes said enough.
Blood was waiting.
---
The Grand Magic Zone was alive that night.
The wind wailed like a dying animal.
Trees twisted against each other, tearing their own bark free in agony.
The ground bled black water from unseen wounds.
Magic hung so heavy it crushed the air, tasting of rust and fear.
And Kael walked behind Yami in silence, every step an act of rebellion against his own frail body.
---
They reached a clearing around midnight.
The moon hung above, a pale, sickly tumor against the starless sky.
Yami stopped.
Pointed with his chin.
"There," he said, voice bored.
Kael followed the line of his gaze.
And froze.
At the center of the clearing knelt a creature.
Once, it might have been a deer.
Or something close to it.
But whatever it had been, magic had broken it—and rebuilt it wrong.
Its antlers were twisted spires of bone, splitting into dozens of jagged branches.
Its flesh hung in strips, raw and wet, pulsating with unnatural life.
Its eyes—
No.
Its empty sockets—
dripped black fire onto the ground.
The smell of it was cancer and decay, thick enough to choke.
The thing twitched violently, spasming like something half-drowned.
It whispered to itself in a language Kael's mind recoiled from.
A spell?
No.
A prayer.
Begging to die.
Begging to be set free.
---
Kael swallowed against the acid rising in his throat.
Yami exhaled smoke through his nose, bored.
"Kill it," he said.
Kael blinked.
Yami shrugged.
"You want to live?
You want to get strong?
Kill it."
No instructions.
No help.
Just the impossible command.
Kael's heart pounded so hard he felt his broken ribs shift.
He stepped forward.
The thing lifted its ruined head.
And screamed.
---
Sound tore the night apart.
The trees wilted instantly, their bark blackening, leaves shriveling into dust.
The earth cracked open at Kael's feet.
Blood oozed from his ears, his nose.
Every instinct screamed to run.
Hide.
Submit.
But Kael was past instincts now.
He had only purpose left.
He lifted his battered sword.
And charged.
---
The beast lunged with impossible speed.
Kael twisted aside, the world blurring around him.
A claw—stitched from ribs and tendons—scraped past his face, carving a trench through his cheek.
Blood blinded him.
He swung.
The blade sank into the beast's flank—and stuck.
Wrong.
The creature didn't bleed properly.
Black smoke hissed from the wound, corroding the metal.
Kael wrenched back, lost his weapon.
The beast reared, antlers gleaming with sick magic, and crashed down toward him.
He rolled under the blow, grabbing a splintered branch as he rose.
Use everything.
Yami's lesson, without words.
Kael snapped the branch across his knee, fashioned a jagged spear, and rammed it into the beast's throat as it turned.
The improvised weapon punched through soft, rotted flesh.
The creature screamed again—this time with rage, not despair.
Black fire gushed from the wound, setting the grass ablaze.
Kael stumbled back, coughing.
The beast charged blindly.
No weapon.
No spells.
No hope.
Only survival.
Kael ducked under the swipe, grabbed the half-rotted antler with both hands—and pulled.
The bone snapped free with a sound like shattering tombstones.
Kael didn't think.
He rammed the antler down into the beast's spine.
It screamed.
Thrashed.
Dragged him along the ground.
But he held on.
Gritting his teeth against the burning in his muscles.
Stay standing.
Stay alive.
The beast bucked once, twice—
—and then collapsed.
Still twitching.
Still bleeding black fire into the earth.
But dead.
Finally dead.
---
Kael fell to his knees beside the corpse.
Breathing in short, wet gasps.
The smell made him want to vomit.
His hands shook uncontrollably.
Not from fear.
From rage.
From exhaustion.
From victory.
He had survived.
Again.
Not by luck.
Not by kindness.
By clawing and tearing and bleeding harder than the world could kill him.
He staggered to his feet, wiping blood from his mouth with the back of his ruined hand.
Turned toward Yami.
Waiting for approval.
For anything.
Yami crushed out his cigarette on the dead beast's hide.
"Hm," he grunted.
Then turned away.
No praise.
No congratulations.
No reward.
Only the expectation that Kael would follow.
Because now Kael was no longer a boy.
No longer prey.
He was a weapon in the making.
And weapons didn't need thanks.
They needed only purpose.
---
The walk back was silent.
The Grand Magic Zone watched them pass, restless, furious.
But none dared attack.
Not now.
Not anymore.
---
That night, Kael sat alone in the ruins.
No fire.
No food.
Just the raw ache of existence.
He peeled away the bandages on his left arm.
The runes carved into his flesh glowed faintly.
Not magic.
Not yet.
Only potential.
Something dormant, waiting.
He stared at them until the sky lightened into a sick gray.
And he understood:
He would survive.
He would grow stronger.
Not because the world allowed it.
But because he would tear strength from the world's throat with broken, bloodied hands if he had to.
Only broken things survived here.
And Kael was already broken.
All that was left—
was to become unstoppable.
---
Chapter is short...I am all tiered to write another long ahh chapter T_T.