Tall and imposing, Father moved with a dignified grace that belied his age. His hair, a rich shade of charcoal black with streaks of fiery red, flowed down his back, reminiscent of flames licking the air. His eyes, sharp and penetrating, glowed with an intensity that spoke of a life dedicated to mastering the arts of fire. They flickered with the wisdom and experience of years spent harnessing the elemental powers of flame.
He was garbed in a robe that seemed to be crafted from the very fires of the earth. The fabric was a deep, burning crimson, interwoven with threads of gold that shimmered like embers in the hall's light. The robe moved around him like a living entity. Intricate patterns of flames and dragons adorned the edges.
Standing there looking at Lord Kazuhiko, it felt like looking at a stranger who happened to share the same living space. This man, my father, he never really paid interest in those he did not consider worthy of his attention. As a dedicated natalist, he was a firm advocate for the expansive growth of his lineage, driven by a belief that to ascend to the pinnacle of influence in a world governed by power, he needed to birth as many potentially useful heirs as possible. Yet, until he discerned a specific utility in an individual, he would not acknowledge them as his own, regardless of their shared blood.
His approach towards fatherhood was pragmatic, viewing his children more as potential assets to be cultivated and used rather than individuals to be nurtured and loved. In his eyes, we were either tools to further the family's prestige and power or inconsequential entities unworthy of his time and attention.
He was feared as a man of overwhelming power, a master pyromancer whose flames were often described by those who had witnessed them as 'Hell fire itself'. His reputation preceded him, providing him the nickname of 'Asura'.
As Lord Kazuhiko made his way towards the centerpiece, the atmosphere was charged with apprehension. He moved with a sense of purpose, his eyes scanning the crowd yet seemingly indifferent to the sea of young faces eagerly awaiting his acknowledgement. Most of the children, including myself, expected nothing more than a passing glance, if that. The same that happened in my first try.
However, as he continued his walk, something unexpected happened. His gaze, which had been sweeping over the crowd indifferently, suddenly sharpened as it fell upon one child in particular – me. The room seemed to hold its breath as he altered his path, heading directly towards where I stood.
Around me, the other children shuffled nervously, their earlier mockery turning into a sort of gleeful anticipation of a reprimand. The adults seated in their chairs watched with a mix of curiosity and mocking amusement just the same, fully expecting a scolding to unfold because of my attire.
In the periphery of my vision, I could see my mother standing up, her hand moving unconsciously to her mouth, biting at her nails in a display of nervousness. The fear of what might transpire was evident in her eyes, reflecting the tension that gripped the entire room.
The patriarch, stood before me, his gaze intense and unreadable. In that moment, time seemed to slow down. I held his gaze steadily, an unspoken challenge hanging in the air between us. There was no fear or anxiety in my eyes; only a calm, unwavering resolve.
As the seconds stretched on in silence, something unexpected happened. A flicker of spark, seemingly out of nowhere, ignited around the fabric of my simple clothes. In mere moments, my attire was engulfed in flames. The crowd gasped in shock at the sudden eruption of fire.
"My God, he's on fire!" exclaimed a woman from the crowd, her voice laced with shock.
My mother, witnessing her son enveloped in flames, let out a scream of terror,"Kaien!"
Elora, quick to act, grabbed my mother's arm, trying to calm her. "Please, ma'am, you mustn't. It's dangerous to intervene," she urged.
"But he's burning! My child!" my mother cried out, struggling against Elora's grip, her eyes fixed on me with a horror.
In the midst of the tumult, a man's voice rose above the rest, tinged with a mix of awe and curiosity. "Look! He isn't screaming... How is he enduring that?"
Everyone around expected screams of agony, but there was only silence. The quiet was unsettling. I stood my ground, not moving an inch from where I stood, as my clothes disintegrated into ash, leaving me exposed and vulnerable. A few flames still licked my skin, causing burns, but I made no sound of distress.
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
This was not an attempt on my life. The fire, while painful, was not debilitating – a far cry from the excruciating agony I had experienced that fateful day in my past life. It was clear that he, in his own harsh, unorthodox way, was imparting a lesson rather than seeking to cause irreparable harm.
Despite the burns, the public humiliation, and the painful exposure, my gaze remained locked. We stood there, frozen in that single moment. The patriarch's demeanor was as stoic as ever, his expression revealing nothing of his thoughts.
After what felt like an eternity, but was only a few seconds, He turned away nonchalantly, as if the event of a child being engulfed in flames right before his eyes was merely a trivial occurrence. There I was, left naked and scorched in front of the assembled crowd, yet he simply moved on as if nothing had happened.
Without missing a beat, Lord Kazuhiko began the day's announcement, his voice resonating through the hall, commanding and composed.
"For centuries, the Arashi family has been renowned as a lineage of exceptional pyromancer mages. Our pursuit has always been to reach the pinnacle of flame mastery, a pursuit blessed and made possible by our revered deity. It is through this divine favor that each descendant of the Arashi family is granted the ability to manifest the class of pyromancers from birth."
"Unlike martial artists who rely on the crude strength of their bodies, you have been bestowed with the gift to harness and manifest magic, a power that transcends mere physicality. Embrace this gift. Nurture it. Let it grow within you until you become the greatest mage you can be. You are the future of the Arashi family, the next generation to carry our flame. Rise to this challenge and make us proud."
"Today marks a significant milestone in the lives of our young ones. At the age of 14, it is time for them to embark on their isolated training, a tradition that the Arashi family has upheld for generations. Each child will be transported to a confined space for an entire year. In this solitude, they will be tasked with a crucial goal – to elevate their intelligence stats to a minimum of ten before the day of their coming-of-age ceremony, which will take place immediately after their training concludes. By achieving this milestone, you will be bestowed the Magic Amplification passive skill, marking the beginning to your journey for power."
"During this year of seclusion, each child will be provided with a space equipped with all necesseties. This includes a bedroom for rest, a bathroom for personal hygiene, and a designated area for meals. It is essential to understand that while basic needs will be met, luxury will be absent. The purpose of this training is to foster self-reliance and discipline, not comfort.There will be no servants to tend to your quarters. Maintaining the cleanliness and order of your space will be your responsibility."
"Meals will be provided at specific times each day. These meals are pre-made and designed to meet your nutritional needs, ensuring that you have the necessary energy and sustenance to focus on your intellectual development."
"This year of isolation is a crucial phase in your journey as a member of the Arashi family. Now, I wish you all the best of luck in your training." Lord Kazuhiko announced, his voice carrying a finality. With a subtle flick of his fingers, a remarkable spectacle unfolded.
In an instant, flames enveloped each child present in the hall. These were not ordinary flames; they danced around us in a mesmerizing display, emitting a warmth that was more comforting than scorching. The flames, rather than causing harm, intended to transport us to our individual isolated spaces.
As the flames flickered and danced, the world around me began to blur and shift. The grandeur of the hall, the faces of the spectators, and the decor all started to fade, giving way to a new environment.
When the flames finally dissipated, I found myself in my own respective isolated space. The transition was seamless and flawless.
The isolated space I found myself in was a modest, sparsely furnished room, but what it lacked in luxury, it more than made up for in resources for intellectual development. The walls were lined with shelves that reached the ceiling, each packed with an array of books covering a vast array of subjects. These books were the key to increasing our intelligence stats - by reading and understanding their concepts, we would be able to enhance our mental faculties, a crucial part of our training.
In the center of the room was a simple desk and a chair, evidently meant to be my study area for the duration of the training.
Standing in the middle of the room, still completely naked from the earlier incident. "Well, I chose those clothes for easier movement, but I suppose being naked takes 'ease of movement' to a whole new level." I chuckled to myself. The irony of my earlier attire choice wasn't lost on me.
As I surveyed the room, my mind was already set on a different course. This time around, I had no intention of focusing on increasing my intelligence stat. I had a broader plan.
I began to walk around the space, eyeing the extensive collection of large, heavy books. Methodically, I picked them up, assessing their weight and size, and started stacking them into two separate piles. These weren’t going to be for reading; they were a part of a different kind of training I had in mind.
Once I had the piles arranged to my satisfaction, I headed to the bathroom chamber. There, I took hold of the metal rod that served as a curtain holder. It was sturdy and of a decent length – perfect for what I had in mind. Returning to my book stacks, I positioned the metal rod and began the arduous task of piercing each book through the middle. It was a challenging process, requiring both strength and patience, but eventually, I managed to skewer enough books on either side of the rod. The result was a makeshift weight bar, with each side loaded with about 20 kilograms of books.
"Now, let the real training begin!"