After the training session, another day had finished. Khaled, his body still aching from the rigorous ordeal, made his way back to his village, Kabila. He stepped through the teleportation gate, Inter Bab, feeling the familiar tingle of magic as it transported him across the vast distance in an instant.

As he emerged on the other side, the sight of his village brought a wave of comfort and relief. Kabila was a small, rural village nestled amidst rolling hills and verdant fields. The simplicity of the place was a stark contrast to the intensity of the training chambers. Here, life moved at a slower, more relaxed pace.

'Ah, Kabila,' Khaled thought, letting out a relieved sigh. 'Just what I need to soothe these sore muscles.'

The homes in Kabila were modest structures, built from locally sourced wood and stone. Their thatched roofs and sturdy walls gave them a timeless, rustic charm. Tonight, the village was illuminated by the soft glow of candles, their flickering light casting dancing shadows on the cobblestone streets. Each home had its own unique arrangement of candles, some in simple holders, others in intricate lanterns, creating a tapestry of shimmering lights that added warmth and a sense of community to the village.

Khaled walked down the main path, his steps slow and measured. The village was quiet at this hour, with most of the residents having retired indoors for the evening. The stillness was a balm to his weary spirit. 'Just the sound of the night,' he thought, taking a deep breath of the fresh air.

The only sounds were the gentle rustling of leaves in the evening breeze and the distant croaking of frogs near the village pond.

He continued his walk, taking in the sights and sounds of his village. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers from the gardens that many of the villagers tended with care. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the trees lining the streets, adding a soft, natural melody to the night.

'The sweet smell of jasmine,' Khaled noted with a smile. 'Reminds me of Mama's garden.'

As he walked, Khaled's thoughts drifted back to the training session. He contemplated the intricacies of his magic and the challenges he had faced. The use of earth spells at the start of the training had been taxing, consuming about fifty percent of his Riaf reserves. 'Fifty percent,' he thought, wincing slightly. 'That's a lot.'

In contrast, manipulating the pebble with Irsal had only cost him five percent, and rotating it had added another two percent to that. Trying to move the large stone with Irsal had been a significant drain, costing him twenty percent.

He realized that while elemental earth magic allowed him to create substantial barriers and manipulate the terrain, it was incredibly demanding on his Riaf reserves. In contrast, Irsal, the art of manipulating objects, was more efficient in some ways, though it had its limitations. Moving the claws of the puppet had taken around ten percent of his Riaf, a considerable amount but still less than some of his other spells.

'Maybe there's a way to use Irsal more efficiently,' he thought, furrowing his brow. 'Perhaps I can be more precise with my control?'

Could he optimize his Irsal techniques to reduce their Riaf cost? The question lingered in his mind. How could he make his magic more efficient? He remembered how the difficulty of controlling the stone increased with distance. This meant that in a fight, he would need to consider his positioning carefully, moving closer or farther away to manage his Riaf expenditure effectively.

'Positioning is key,' he realized. 'Need to remember that.'

Khaled knew that mastering Irsal required more than just brute force. It was about finesse, understanding the delicate balance between his will and the object's natural resistance. He needed to find ways to reduce the strain on his Riaf while maximizing the effectiveness of his spells. Perhaps there were techniques or methods he hadn't yet discovered that could help him achieve this balance.

'There has to be a way,' he thought determinedly. 'I just need to find the right approach.'

As he walked through the village, the peacefulness of Kabila provided the perfect backdrop for his contemplation. The quiet, the gentle light of the candles, and the natural beauty of his surroundings all helped to clear his mind and focus his thoughts.

Just as he was thinking, he heard loud thuds echoing through the quiet night. It was Fedi, training with a sword in hand. This guy has always been a physical genius, his physique impeccable. Unlike Khaled, who focused on honing his magic through spells and intricate casting, Fedi was all about physical prowess. He primarily used Tahsin spells, which enhanced his body, but his real passion was swordsmanship.

A smile, tinged with amusement, tugged at Khaled's lips. Fedi had just recently become an official knight of Mamlaka, though with a hint of pride, almost bordering on condescension, Khaled knew Fedi was still a fresh recruit, just starting at the knight academy. "Fresh out of the nest, swinging his sword around like a child with a rattle," Khaled muttered to himself.

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The difference between the Hami's path and the knight's path was stark, and Khaled reveled in the intellectual superiority it offered. A Hami's power came from years of learning and mastering spells, wielding magic with intricate gestures and a deep understanding of the very fabric of reality. Knights, on the other hand, used their Riaf to strengthen their bodies directly. It wasn't just about enchantment spells; it was as if their muscles absorbed the Riaf, restructuring themselves to become faster, stronger, and more resilient.

"All brute force and no finesse," Khaled scoffed. Sure, in a straight-up brawl, a knight might overpower a Hami. But that was like comparing a fly swatter to a hurricane. A knight might be a sledgehammer, but a Hami was a sculptor, meticulously crafting spells that could manipulate the battlefield, control the elements, and unleash devastating power with pinpoint accuracy.

"Give Fedi a few years swinging his sword around," Khaled thought with a chuckle, "and maybe he'll understand the true power of magic." He pictured Fedi, all brawn and no brain, charging headfirst into a horde of enemies, only to be met with a well-placed earth wall or a strategically placed fireball. Khaled winced at the imagined scene. "Poor Fedi wouldn't stand a chance."

"Well, well, well, look who finally decided to grace us with his presence!" boomed Fedi, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. He stood bathed in the soft glow emanating from his house, his impressive physique outlined by the flickering candlelight.

"Fedi," Khaled replied, a playful smile spreading across his face. "Just finished another grueling training session, honing my craft while some… cough… spend their evenings clanging metal around."

Fedi let out a hearty laugh, the sound echoing through the quiet village. "Easy there, spell-slinger. Don't get jealous of a knight's training. We can't all spend hours memorizing fancy hand gestures."

"Jealous?" Khaled feigned offense, placing a hand over his chest. "My dear Fedi, the only thing I'm jealous of is the amount of noise your training generates. It disrupts the peace and tranquility of the entire village."

Fedi rolled his eyes. "Keep telling yourself that, Khaled. But don't worry, your precious tranquility will be restored soon enough. Once I graduate from the academy, I'll be out there protecting Mamlaka, while you're stuck here conjuring illusions for bored villagers."

"Protecting Mamlaka, huh?" Khaled raised an eyebrow. "Or are you planning on using your newfound knightly skills to impress the ladies?"

Fedi chuckled. "Maybe a bit of both. But trust me, when the real threats come knocking, you'll be glad to have a knight like me around to take care of the dirty work, while you…" he paused dramatically, "…conjure a sparkly distraction."

Khaled couldn't help but laugh. Fedi always knew how to push his buttons. "Alright, alright," he conceded. "You win this round, Fedi. But remember, even the mightiest knight needs a brilliant Hami to support him. We make a pretty good team, wouldn't you say?"

Fedi grinned. "Teamwork makes the dream work, Khaled. Teamwork makes the dream work." He clapped Khaled on the shoulder, the force nearly knocking him off balance.

They both chuckled, the playful banter a familiar rhythm in their friendship. As the night deepened, the conversation flowed, filled with reminiscing about childhood adventures, lighthearted jabs about each other's chosen paths, and shared dreams for the future. Fedi spoke excitedly about his upcoming knight trials, the challenges he would face, and the glory of defending Mamlaka. Khaled, in turn, confided his frustrations with the intricate theories behind Irsal manipulation and his eagerness to test his newfound skills in a real-world scenario.

As the moon climbed higher in the sky, casting an ethereal glow over the village, a comfortable silence settled between them. They sat side-by-side, enjoying the cool night air and the symphony of crickets chirping in the nearby fields.

"You know," Fedi said finally, his voice thoughtful, "for all our teasing, we do complement each other perfectly. You, with your mind like a fortress of spells, and me, with my body a bastion of strength."

Khaled smiled. "Indeed we do. Together, we're a force to be reckoned with. A Hami and a Knight, a shield and a sword, protecting Mamlaka from whatever threats may come our way."

They sat in companionable silence for a while longer, the unspoken bond of friendship hanging heavy in the air. Finally, with a yawn, Fedi stretched his broad arms.

"Well, Khaled," he said, "it's getting late. I've got another grueling training session at dawn, and I wouldn't want to disappoint the instructors with my lack of enthusiasm."

"And I," Khaled replied, rising to his feet, "need to get some well-deserved rest to replenish my Riaf reserves for another day of pushing the boundaries of magic."

With a final clap on the shoulder – this time gentler – Fedi bid Khaled goodnight and retreated into his house. Khaled watched him go, a warm feeling of easyness settling in his gut. Despite their different paths, their playful rivalry, and their occasional boasting, he knew he couldn't ask for a better friend than Fedi.

An interesting thought flickered in Khaled's mind as he turned towards his own home. Fedi, with his relentless training, possessed an undeniable physical prowess that Khaled, for all his magical prowess, lacked. Fedi could swing his sword for hours without breaking a sweat, while Khaled would likely tire quickly trying to maintain a complex Irsal manipulation.

Perhaps, Khaled mused, there was something to be said for a bit of physical conditioning. Maybe focusing solely on mental fortitude wasn't enough. Maybe there was a way to combine his Irsal techniques with some basic exercises to improve his stamina and endurance. After all, wouldn't a strong body allow him to maintain more complex Irsal control for longer periods? The idea was intriguing. Imagine the possibilities! With his magic enhanced by a honed physique, he could be a true force to be reckoned with. He could even, dare he say it, start wielding a sword himself. Khaled chuckled at the thought. Him, Khaled, swinging a sword around? It was an amusing image, one that elicited a playful mental picture of himself, all scrawny arms and misplaced confidence, attempting to parry a goblin's attack.

Still, the seed of the idea had been planted. Maybe not a full-blown knightly training regimen, but perhaps a few basic exercises, some light weight training… just enough to improve his endurance without turning him into a muscle-bound brute. And who knows, maybe a bit of toned muscle would improve his chances with the local female populace.