CHAPTER 9

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The forest was quiet, save for the occasional rustling of leaves in the wind. I had been training relentlessly, honing my skills, mastering the elements, and expanding my use of Analyze. Yet, despite everything I had learned, the hermit’s words about balance still haunted me. He spoke of control, of caution, but I had unlimited mana and the ability to master any spell instantly. Why should I worry about control when I could do what others couldn’t?

Today, I was going to test myself in a way I hadn’t before. The hermit had mentioned before that learning Analyze would require battle, conflict, and stress. So far, I had only been using the skill on elements and objects, breaking down their structures, but it wasn’t enough. I needed something more. I needed a challenge. A real opponent.

The hermit stood across from me in the clearing, watching me with that ever-present wariness in his eyes. He had seen what I was capable of, but I could sense that he still wasn’t sure about me. He still saw me as a boy driven by revenge, blinded by my thirst for power.

“Today’s test is different,” I said, meeting his gaze. “I want you to come at me with everything you have.”

The hermit’s expression didn’t change, but I could tell he wasn’t pleased with my demand. “You’ve learned much, Niv,” he said slowly. “But you’re still not ready for a true battle. There are things about magic, about combat, that you don’t understand yet.”

“I understand enough,” I replied, my voice firm. “I need to see how far I can go. I’ve mastered the elements, I’ve learned how to analyze magic. Now, I need to test it in real combat. Against you.”

The hermit sighed, his hand resting on the hilt of the old, worn staff he carried. “Very well. But remember—magic is not just about strength. It’s about precision, control. If you lose yourself in power, you’ll fall.”

I clenched my fists, ignoring his warning. “I won’t fall.”

Without another word, I raised my hand, summoning the Aetheric Flow to me. The ground trembled beneath my feet as I pulled the elements into my grasp. Fire roared to life in my palm, and the wind whipped around me, eager to be unleashed.

The hermit took a step back, raising his staff. His expression was still calm, but I could see the tension in his stance. He wasn’t going to hold back.

And that’s exactly what I wanted.

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I struck first. The fire in my hand exploded forward, a roaring inferno aimed directly at the hermit. At the same time, I sent a gust of wind behind it, intensifying the flames as they hurtled toward him.

But the hermit was fast. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned a wall of water from the nearby stream, extinguishing the fire before it could reach him. The steam from the clash of elements hissed and swirled around us, but I didn’t stop.

I raised the earth beneath him, creating jagged pillars of stone aimed at his legs. He jumped back, dodging the attack with ease, but I was already moving, summoning the wind to strike from behind, pushing him off balance.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

This time, the hermit didn’t dodge. Instead, he raised his staff and slammed it into the ground. The earth rumbled, and a wave of stone surged toward me. I reacted instantly, leaping into the air and using the wind to carry me above the attack. As I hovered in the air, I focused, activating Analyze.

The world around me slowed for a brief moment, and I could see it clearly—the way the hermit moved, the way his magic worked. I could see the weak points in his stone wall, the gaps in his defense. Everything became clear.

I dropped down, landing lightly on the ground, and with a flick of my wrist, I shattered the stone wave into dust.

“You’re relying too much on brute force,” the hermit called out, his voice calm despite the intensity of the battle. “You’re not thinking ahead. You’re just reacting.”

“I’m doing what I need to win,” I shot back.

The hermit narrowed his eyes, and I could feel the Aetheric Flow shift. Suddenly, the air around me felt heavier, denser. I tried to move, but the ground beneath my feet became soft, like mud, pulling me down. Quicksand.

I gritted my teeth, summoning the wind to free myself, but the hermit was faster. He sent a bolt of lightning toward me, the energy crackling through the air.

Analyze.

I saw the lightning’s trajectory, the way it twisted through the sky, and I knew exactly where it would hit. With a quick step, I dodged the attack, the lightning striking the ground where I had been moments before.

But I wasn’t done. I focused again, using Analyze not just to defend but to counter. I could see the way the hermit was moving, the way he was summoning his magic. I understood his pattern now, his rhythm.

He was leaving himself open. Just for a moment, just enough.

I summoned Slip.

The ground beneath the hermit shifted ever so slightly, just enough to throw him off balance. His foot slipped, and for the first time since the fight began, his expression faltered.

That was all I needed.

I lunged forward, summoning fire and wind together, creating a spiraling vortex of flames that roared toward him. The hermit raised his staff to defend, but his footing was off. The firestorm crashed into him, forcing him back, and I followed up with a blast of earth, sending him tumbling to the ground.

I stood over him, breathing heavily but feeling the surge of victory in my veins. I had done it. I had beaten him.

The hermit lay on the ground, coughing, but he didn’t look angry. If anything, he looked… sad.

“You’re strong,” he said quietly, his voice hoarse. “Stronger than anyone I’ve ever trained. But you still don’t understand.”

I frowned, stepping back. “I won. What else is there to understand?”

The hermit pushed himself to his feet, brushing the dirt from his cloak. “You rely too much on power, Niv. You analyze your enemy, find their weakness, and exploit it. But you’re not thinking about the long-term. What happens when you face an opponent who has no weaknesses? Or one whose strength is equal to your own?”

I clenched my fists, the frustration rising in my chest. “There’s always a weakness,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’ll find it.”

The hermit shook his head. “Not always. And if you keep thinking that power is all you need, you’ll fall. Not because you’re not strong enough—but because you won’t be prepared for what’s coming.”

“What’s coming?” I demanded, my voice sharp.

The hermit looked at me, his expression unreadable. “The gods.”

The rest of the day passed in silence. I replayed the battle in my mind, analyzing every move, every spell, every moment. I had won. I had outmaneuvered the hermit, used my Analyze skill to find his weakness, and exploited it perfectly. But his words still bothered me. He kept warning me about power, about relying too much on it, but I didn’t see the problem.

I had power. More than anyone else. And I was going to use it to get what I wanted. To kill the demon. To get revenge.

As I sat by the fire that night, staring into the flames, the hermit’s final words echoed in my mind: The gods.

I hadn’t thought about the gods. I had heard whispers of them, stories of divine beings who controlled the fate of mortals, but I had never paid attention. I had been too focused on the demon, on gaining strength. But now… now I couldn’t ignore it.

Were the gods really watching? Were they involved in what had happened to my family? And if they were, what did that mean for me?