Raiden Alaric

After running to Chronos’ place, I walked around looking for him, which quickly turned out to be a mistake. I hadn’t really had the chance to explore his estate beyond the training facilities and the garage on occasion. In other words, I got lost. Yes, it was my fault, I was impatient to learn the new technique he had teased.

As I wandered through one of the less familiar buildings, I couldn’t help but marvel at the surroundings. The walls were far from simple; they were masterpieces in their own right, crafted with intricate designs embedded directly into the marble. This wasn't the usual abstract veining one might expect; this marble was alive with motion. As I focused on different parts of the wall, the stone seemed to flow fluidly, revealing beautiful, delicate art scenes. One wall depicted a fierce battle scene complete with clashing warriors and mystical creatures, while another showed a serene landscape, the seasons transitioning smoothly from spring blossoms to the chill of winter snow.

Each corridor seemed to hold its own theme, telling stories of ancient legends and forgotten myths. Chronos had mentioned in passing that his home was built on the site of an old fortress, and every element of the architecture was steeped in history, each artifact and painting a collector's prize.

I was aware of the origins of this island; it hadn't been given an “official” name because politicians all over the world couldn't decide who should have jurisdiction over it, especially since it was larger than most European countries. Since the Ascendant who made the island was quite elusive, they decided to name it based on his title, “Createrra.” And don't get me started on the debate among geologists about whether it's an island or a continent. As for the law, well, the world uses the Sentinels' Commandments, which doubled the reason some countries couldn't claim the majority of jurisdiction over it. Yes, I'm rambling, but oh well, back to walking around.

Turning a corner, I stumbled upon a small, secluded courtyard I hadn’t seen before. It was a hidden gem, surrounded by high walls adorned with vines and flowering plants that climbed towards the open sky. A stone fountain stood in the center, its water sparkling in the sunlight that peeked through the leaves, casting shimmering patterns on the ground. At the top of the fountain rested a cross made of three nails.

The serenity of the scene was a stark contrast to the awe-inspiring corridors I had just walked through. It was almost as if it was a visual representation of the layers of history and power that Chronos surrounded himself with, a physical manifestation of the centuries of knowledge and strength he embodied.

Just who are you, Chronos?

With each step, the estate seemed to reveal more of its secrets, as if it recognized my presence and was slowly opening up, guiding me deeper into its heart. The feeling of being lost shifted, becoming less about a physical location and more about losing myself in the depths of the history and aura that pulsed through the very walls around me.

Just as I was about to sit down and let the tranquility of the courtyard wash over me, a familiar voice echoed from one of the nearby paths. "Lost, are we?" Chronos appeared, a slight smirk playing on his lips, as if he'd known exactly where to find me all along.

I turned to him, caught mid-squat, and managed a sheepish grin. "Yes, but I got lost in your labyrinth of a home."

He chuckled, the sound echoing slightly in the spacious courtyard. "Well, I would have found you sooner or later. Why aren't you in the training room?"

My face blanched at the realization that he might interpret this as skipping out on training. "Y-you said you were teaching me a new technique today, so I-"

"Got impatient and went looking for me?" He finished my sentence, raising an eyebrow.

"Y-yeah…" I straightened up, rubbing the back of my neck. "I've been practically begging to learn more of your techniques, so I couldn’t help but get excited at the thought of learning something new from you."

He nodded, understanding flashing in his eyes. "Well, since you found me, let's go."

My spirits lifted immediately, and I followed him eagerly back to the training building. After changing into my training gear, I found Chronos already stretching on the mat, waiting for me. Without a second thought, I hopped up onto the mat and began mirroring his movements.

Once we were both limber, Chronos clasped his hands together, looking ready to begin. "Alright, so what am I teaching you?"

"What are you teaching me?" I echoed, a bit confused.

We both paused, staring at each other. After a moment, the awkward silence stretched long enough for the realization to dawn on me.

My eyes widened, a spark of excitement igniting. "Celestials wings… are you saying that… I get to choose what you teach me?"

Chronos’s smile widened, a mischievous glint appearing in his eyes. "Exactly. But choose wisely. From this point on, every year the day after your birthday I will teach you one of my techniques. This also applies to you after you awaken."

Holy shit Chronos stop it, you’re gonna make me kiss you.

The training room was silent except for the faint rustle of the mats underfoot as I settled down cross-legged, the quiet providing a stark contrast to the tumult of thoughts racing through my mind. Chronos watched patiently from a few feet away, understanding the gravity of the decision before me. One technique, it had to be pivotal, something transformative.

I closed my eyes, letting the echoes of the contests filter through my memory. Each opponent, each strike, each moment of triumph and defeat laid out before me like pieces of a complex puzzle. However, it was the final confrontation with Yuki that kept replaying in my mind. Her aura, unleashed with a precision and power that I had no counter for, not yet at least.

What I needed was not just a new move but a foundational shift in how I approached combat. I envisioned myself in the arena again, facing an Ascendant. How could I turn their power, their confidence in their aura, against them?

I need something that escalates. A technique that grows stronger the more it's charged, turning a single hit into a devastating blow.

The concept wasn't just about brute force, it was about timing, precision, and the strategic buildup of power.

"Chronos," I began, opening my eyes and looking up at him, "I want to learn how to harness momentum, both mine and my opponent's. Like in those games where a character charges up an attack for extra damage. Can we develop something like that? A technique that amplifies force the longer it's prepared?"

Chronos’s expression shifted subtly, a mix of surprise and intrigue coloring his features. "An interesting choice," he murmured, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "You're thinking of something that accumulates potential energy and converts it into a more powerful strike. It’s ambitious, but very fitting for your style."

"Yes, exactly!" I said, my voice growing more animated as the idea took clearer shape in my mind. "Something that can turn the tide of a battle with one perfectly timed blow. It would need to be something I can control, build up, and release at the moment of my choosing."

Chronos nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing as he considered the possibilities. "It will require precise control over your physical and mental state. You’ll need to be acutely aware of your environment, your opponent's movements, and your own internal state. But," he paused, a sly grin spreading across his face, his crimson eyes glowing slightly, "it sounds like the perfect challenge for you."

"Let's get to work then," I said, rising to my feet, energized by the challenge. "I'm ready to start whenever you are."

"Good," Chronos replied, clapping his hands once with a sound that echoed slightly in the large room. "Then let's begin the foundation of what might just become your signature move."

Chronos led me to a part of the training room I hadn’t used before, where a reinforced dummy torso stood ominously, like it knew what was coming. “This,” Chronos began, rolling up his sleeves, “is about precision, but even more about the controlled, explosive power you can generate in a single, confined movement.”

He positioned himself a mere inch away from the dummy, his posture relaxed yet clearly controlled. “Watch closely,” he instructed, his voice calm but carrying an edge of excitement. He breathed in deeply, his focus narrowing. I watched, mesmerized as every muscle in his body seemed to coalesce into a singular purpose.

Without a blink, Chronos’s fist moved, it was barely a twitch, but the effect was catastrophic. The dummy’s torso exploded into shreds of material, and a loud crash echoed as a hole appeared in the wall behind where the dummy once stood. Dust settled around us, and a few small alarms started to beep, likely triggered by the sudden destruction.

Chronos blinked, looking almost as surprised as I felt. “Ah,” he said, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “Tsk I didn’t hold back enough… dang it… now I have to get the wall fixed again.”

Again?

I stared at the wreckage, then back at him. “That was insane,” I breathed out, my mind racing at the potential of such a skill. “You did that with just... a one inch punch?”

“Yes, and that’s what I want to teach you,” Chronos replied, his eyes sparkling with a mix of pride and a hint of mischief. “But clearly, I’ll need to adjust the demonstration settings next time.”

He explained further, “The One Inch Punch, as it’s traditionally known, is about channeling force through a very short distance. But what I’ve developed, and what you’ll learn, is an enhanced version. It’s not just about the physical mechanics but also about harnessing and releasing your internal energy at the precise moment to maximize impact.”

As he spoke, I couldn’t help but imagine the possibilities. A technique like this could be a game-changer in any fight, especially against opponents who underestimated the power one could muster in such a confined space.

If I had something like this when I was cornered…

“Your turn,” Chronos said, gesturing to a new dummy that staff quickly set up, this time with additional padding and without a wall directly behind it.

I positioned myself in front of a new dummy, mimicking Chronos's stance as closely as possible. One inch away, I focused, trying to channel everything he had shown me. But each attempt felt hollow, the strikes superficial. No matter how precisely I placed my punch, or how tightly I coiled my muscles, the expected devastation simply didn't materialize. The dummy remained almost mockingly intact, and with each failed attempt, my frustration grew.

"Concentrate, Rai," Chronos urged from behind me. "It's not about the force, but it's about channeling the energy, focusing it into a single point."

I nodded, wiping sweat from my brow, trying again and again. Yet, each punch lacked the necessary potency, the energy slipping through my fingers like sand. The inefficacy of my efforts weighed heavily on me, my breaths short and ragged, a mix of physical exertion and growing irritation.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Why can't I feel it? The energy you talk about?" I muttered, more to myself than to Chronos.

Watching me struggle, Chronos's expression showed consideration on how he should approach this. “This is a perfect opportunity to show you something, I was going to wait for a while but I think it’s best to rip of the band-aid now.”

He took me over to the training mat in the middle of the room. "Sometimes," he began, his voice dropping to a more serious tone, "to truly understand the depth of a technique, you need to feel its impact. To know its power not just as the striker, but as the target."

He positioned himself in front of me, his presence commanding. "Let's change our approach."

I turned to face him, catching the seriousness in his demeanor. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I'm going to show you the real essence of this technique, on you." He took a stance, one arm behind his back, the other extended forward. His voice was calm but carried an undercurrent of intensity. "I'm going to kill you now."

The statement should have been terrifying, and it was, but it also sent an unexpected thrill of adrenaline through me. I knew he wouldn't actually kill… me…

I couldn’t move. It was as if the atmosphere had thickened, the pressure building like the weight of the ocean pressing down upon my shoulders. His eyes locked onto mine, piercing.

In that moment, I felt a deep, instinctual shift within me. It was a primal response, triggered by the raw, unfiltered intent emanating from Chronos. The feeling was terrifying, like standing on the edge of a precipice, peering into an abyss that gazed back into you.

This feeling I couldn’t describe in any other way than, “I’m going to die.” It enveloped me, seeping into my very pores, whispering of danger and death. My heart raced, thudding loudly in my chest as if trying to escape the inevitable conclusion that something wanted nothing more than my demise. My breaths became shallow, rapid, as panic flirted with the edges of my mind.

Yet, as the seconds stretched into what felt like hours, something else began to stir within me, a fierce, powerful response. It was as if the very threat of destruction awakened a dormant strength in my core, a defiant roar against the silent whisper of death. The sensation was electrifying, charging every nerve in my body with a mix of fear and exhilaration. I stood frozen, a statue carved of adrenaline and awe, as the reality of what I was experiencing settled into my consciousness.

I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going to die.

Then, unexpectedly, the corners of my mouth began to rise into a grin.

The sensation was surreal, almost euphoric. My mind raced, not with fear but with fascination, as I observed every minute detail of Chronos's posture and technique. His muscles tensed with calculated precision, his eyes focused intensely, not just on me but through me, as if peering into my very core. The air around us seemed to vibrate.

My heart hammered in my chest, not just from fear now but from a wild surge of exhilaration. As Chronos initiated the movement, a whisper of raw power tickled at the edges of my senses. It was overwhelming, frightening, yet exhilarating. I stood frozen, every nerve alight with acute awareness, as his fist stopped mere inches from my chest. Then, a sudden gust emanated from his fist, sending me flying back into a padded wall. The impact felt like hitting a mattress falling off the back of a speeding truck.

The world spun momentarily as I struggled to catch my breath, my back throbbing from the force of the collision. Chronos approached, his face a mixture of concern and satisfaction, offering a hand to help me up. I grasped it, pulling myself to my feet, still dizzy from the rush of adrenaline and the abrupt stop so I just fell back onto the ground.

"What I just demonstrated wasn't just to help you feel the energy," he explained, his voice calm but firm, "but also to show you the power of killing intent. It’s a critical element in martial arts, especially in techniques like the one I’m teaching you. It’s about more than just physical force; it’s about channeling your will, your intent to dominate the fight, into a single, decisive action."

I nodded, still reeling from the experience, the reality of what I had just felt sinking in. The concept of killing intent, of using my aura not just as a shield or a weapon but as an extension of my very will, was… thrilling.

"You need to understand," Chronos continued, his tone both serious and instructive, "that every strike carries not just the potential to hit, but to intimidate, to control the battle. When you master this, you won’t just be reacting, you’ll be commanding the flow of the fight. I’m showing this to you now because you will without a shadow of a doubt encounter this. The level of killing intent I demonstrated was extreme because I needed you to truly feel it first-hand. There are those who can mask their intent much better than others, but make no mistake, anyone who intends to take your life will emit killing intent at some point."

As I caught my breath, a question formed in my mind. “So, does this mean I need to want to kill someone to use this technique?”

He smiled warmly, shaking his head. "No, not at all. I should have explained better beforehand, but it was crucial for you to experience this as authentically as possible.” He leaned in, his eyes glinting with a mix of mischief and wisdom. “There's another reason I did this, it's because you understand it now, right?”

I returned the smile, feeling a newfound comprehension dawning within me. “Yeah, I think I got it now.”

“Perfect,” he said, then hoisted me back to my feet and guided me to the center of the mat once more. Taking his stance again, he fixed me with a challenging look. “Alright,” he said, his voice a low rumble, “try to ‘kill’ me.”

In that instant, he unleashed his killing intent once more, the air thickening around us like a tangible force.

Chronos Elior

As I unleashed the killing intent once again, my eyes remained intently fixed on Rai. There was a part of me that regretted the necessity of introducing him to such a raw and visceral aspect of combat so early in his training. If not for the pressing demand of his Origin, a deep, inherent need triggered only by genuine threat, I wouldn't have chosen this method without prior explanation.

Observing Rai, I noticed the initial tremors of discomfort giving way to a darker, more intense focus. A slow, almost sadistic smile began to curl at the corners of his mouth, an unsettling yet fitting reaction to the profound sense of danger now enveloping him. It was a smile that spoke of understanding, of embracing the harsh truth I had laid bare before him.

Rai’s eyes, once wide with apprehension, narrowed with a fierce sort of clarity. He began to mimic my stance meticulously, his body aligning in a mirror image of my own. The air around us seemed to thicken with his burgeoning resolve.

I couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride mixed with a sobering realization. Rai was not just learning, he was evolving, adapting to the brutal realities of the path he had chosen. As he withstood the crushing weight of my intent, his own aura began to stir, a nascent storm brewing beneath the calm.

"Good," I murmured under my breath, almost too quietly for anyone to hear. It was a word laden with both commendation and caution. Rai was stepping into a realm where few could tread without losing a part of themselves. I could sense his aura trembling and slowly gaining a smooth composure. While this may not be his gateway to his awakening, it should help him gain some proper insight into his drive for wanting to awaken and use aura.

He inhaled deeply, his frame expanding with the intake of air, and as he exhaled, the atmosphere shifted. The killing intent I had wielded like a weapon was now being redirected, shaped by Rai's will. His understanding crystallized in that moment, and with it, his readiness to retaliate.

Well then, he managed to produce some killing intent of his own.

"Come at me," I invited, my voice steady despite the stirring anticipation.

Rai’s response was not verbal but visceral. He moved forward, the sadistic smile now fully formed, a chilling prelude to the unleashed fury of his counterattack. The roles were now reversed, the student challenging his teacher. My my Rai, you have become quite the intimidating figure at the age of 15.

As Rai’s hand clenched into a fist and he thrust forward, a subtle breeze fluttered against my abdomen, an initial successful application of the technique. Yet, what followed was, of course, within my expectations. Rai's arm, propelled by force beyond his current control, recoiled sharply. The backlash was immediate, a vivid demonstration of his inexperience with handling such condensed power.

Watching Rai’s reaction, a mix of surprise and pain as he clutched his right arm, it was clear he hadn’t fully committed to the punch. Yet, even that restrained effort was enough to strain his muscles. With a subtle enhancement of my vision using aura, I examined the fibers of his muscle to ensure there was no tearing. Fortunately, there was none, but the incident underscored the precarious balance of pushing him in training.

This harsh lesson was necessary. Rai's journey demanded a deep understanding of his physical limits and the mechanics of each technique, brutal though the learning process might be. Without his awakening, he was bound to face these hurdles, his unawakened human limitations a constant barrier to the potential mastery of aura.

"Rai," I began, my tone calm but carrying an undercurrent of stern concern as I approached him. I took his arm, letting a gentle flow of my aura seep into the strained muscles, easing the pain with a warm, soothing energy. "I know what you're thinking," I continued, locking eyes with him to reinforce the gravity of my words. "You’ll awaken in time. For now, this pain, this frustration, it's beneficial. It's teaching you the resilience you'll need. When you do awaken, you'll push past these limits with nothing to hold you back but your own will to improve."

His expression softened, the pain receding as he absorbed the lessons from the discomfort. "Sorry," he muttered, his frustration palpable. "It's just so hard not to be frustrated. I don’t understand why finding my revelation has to be so difficult."

I placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, feeling the tension beneath. "Revelations aren’t just simply found Rai. Remember what I said before, your revelation is what is your drive to use aura. Why do you want to awaken, what is it that is pushing you forward? You aren’t going to gain that kind of insight in a day. It’s something that cultivates within you as you train and pursue this path. It will come to you one day Rai, it just one be as simple as others."

His nod, though hesitant, still held understanding and resolve as we returned to the center of the mat, poised to delve deeper into the technique.

"As I said, the essence of the One Inch Punch… actually I suppose I should call it by its true name, the One Inch Death Punch hence why you felt and used that amount of killing intent, but I digress," I began, setting the foundation for a crucial lesson. "It isn't merely about the force, it’s about precision and impact, particularly on weak points that can magnify the effect of even a seemingly minimal force."

I demonstrated by positioning my fist close to a training dummy, explaining as I did so. "Here," I said, pointing to a spot just below the sternum, "the solar plexus, a well-known weak point. A precise strike here can disrupt your opponent’s breathing and balance." My fist moved slightly, indicating another target. "Or here, at the base of the throat—a strike here can be disorienting, affecting their ability to fight back."

As Rai watched intently, I shifted to illustrate a different angle. "And then there’s the temple, the jaw, even the liver. Each of these targets requires less force than you might think, provided your strike is well-placed and delivered with proper technique."

I stepped back, gesturing for Rai to approach the dummy. "Now, I want you to try. Focus not on the power of your strike, but on the precision. Visualize the internal impact your punch will have, not just the external force."

Rai squared his shoulders, a flicker of determination lighting his eyes as he absorbed the lesson. He positioned himself as I had shown, his focus narrowing to the spots I had highlighted. With a measured breath, he delivered the punch, not with overwhelming force, but with a surgeon’s precision.

The effect on the dummy was visibly less dramatic than my earlier demonstration but was effective in its purpose. "Good," I encouraged, noting the controlled power of his strike. "Feel the technique, don’t just perform it. Imagine you’re reaching inside your opponent to disrupt their very ability to continue fighting."

Rai repeated the motion, each strike more confident and precise. "So, it’s less about brute strength and more about strategic debilitation," he reflected aloud, making the connections necessary for deeper comprehension.

"Exactly," I affirmed, pleased with his progress. "In combat, especially when you face an opponent who might be stronger or faster, knowing where and how to strike can turn the tide in your favor."

As the training session drew to a close, I noticed Rai's concentration had deepened, his punches becoming more assured and effective. It was time to set his path forward.

"Alright, Rai," I started, clapping my hands together to signal the end of today's lesson. "You've got the basics down, but mastery will require dedication. From today onward, I want you to practice this technique 100 times a day."

Rai's eyes widened slightly, the magnitude of the task registering. I continued, unfazed by his reaction, "And each day, you will add one more punch to your practice. It's about building endurance and ingraining this technique into your muscle memory."

He blinked, his mouth opening as if to protest or seek clarification, but no words came out.

"Well now that we’ve added something new to your training routine, I will have you move on with your combat training on the dolls," I added, seeing his overwhelmed expression. "I have a few things I need to take care of so if you would please continue as usual and I will see you for dinner."

With a final nod, I picked up my shoes, preparing to leave the training area. "If I catch you slacking, don't think the punishment will be light."

As I walked away, leaving Rai on the mat with his thoughts and the looming challenge ahead, I heard a faint mutter from him, a mix of disbelief and determination. "One hundred punches a day, increasing daily..."

His task was set, now I just need to go take care of a little something and make it back in time before dinner.