Old Jix had an agility that impressed Dante. He didn't just attack with his cane—his short legs moved from side to side, trying to strike Dante's neck in any way possible. Dante was fast, adept at deflecting and dodging, but whenever he attacked at an open angle, the cane was there to block.

Clearly, Jix wasn’t putting strength into his movements. When Dante raised his fists in guard, Jix shot forward like a bullet, aiming for his head. Dante stepped back, dodged by shifting his shoulder to the right, and leaned into a lateral punch.

The old man's eyes widened, and he had to retreat in quick, short hops.

"Whoever taught you how to fight knew your weaknesses well and corrected them exceptionally." The cane touched the ground again as he slowly walked toward Dante. Even being short, his posture was elegant as he sat on a stone block. "Your body is strong, your mind and spirit are synchronized. That already improves a lot. I won’t need to teach you the basics."

"My father taught me to fight when I was very young, using a bamboo weapon." Dante smiled, remembering the many times he had taken a beating. "He always told me the best defense is one where your opponent can't find flaws."

"A wise man. That’s why his son is so strong." Jix chuckled. "Before I started teaching some new kids, I had to demonstrate the basics. You know many fighting styles, which makes your attacks unpredictable."

Dante felt proud. It had taken him a long time to learn what his father had tried to pass on, and even so, he had never beaten the old man. He missed the days when he lived with them because the more he learned, the better the challenges became.

Missing them was natural, but he needed to focus on the present—and he did it more often than he liked.

"I’ve understood your movements quite well. Now, let's refine them." Jix extended his cane and tapped Dante’s leg. "I'll teach you something that will make you stronger. I assume that won’t be a problem for someone like you."

Dante looked at him sideways, confused.

"And what would that be?"

"It's my ability—but it’s not exactly 'teaching' it to you." Jix chuckled. "More like lending it. I understand that your ability converts energy, and I've met someone like that before. Unfortunately, may God rest his soul, he ended up exploding himself to death."

He was serious. There were no laughs or smiles after those words.

"He was even stronger than you, you know? His conversion rate was incredible, but his body never fully adapted. When he encountered one of the Felroz, he overused it and exploded." Jix made a small respectful gesture with his hand. "I know it may sound strange, but people with more physical abilities are at a disadvantage. What I want to pass on to you is something I once gave others—but they couldn’t endure it long enough to advance."

Dante's curiosity was immense. He waited for Jix to finish speaking, but the old man just scratched his thin beard.

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"Dante," he paused, "my ability is 'Gravitational Act.' Ever heard of it?"

"No, I’ve never seen anyone with that kind of power." He stepped closer. "What does it do?"

Jix slowly placed both hands on the top of his cane. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and then opened them.

Dante immediately felt an immense pressure crash onto his body. He groaned in pain but started pushing himself up. It was like an enormous mountain pressing him down. His legs trembled, but he adjusted his posture to stand straight. His shoulders twisted to the side, as did his arms.

Jix was impressed—so much that his mouth hung open. His gravity was one of the worst, if not the worst, ability for someone with a physical fighting style. Muscles could be strong, trained for years, but when constantly punched downward by gravitational force, they should submit.

Yet Dante was trembling violently—but he was not yielding.

"Is this all?" Dante locked himself in place. He no longer trembled. Jix searched for signs of energy conversion, but aside from his physical strain, nothing else seemed to be affected. The gravity only exerted minor traces of pressure, but Dante had completely freed himself from the first wave. "I trained with this at home. Come at me with everything, Jix."

The two exchanged grins. Then Jix increased the pressure around both of them, creating a paralyzing force. Dante’s limbs trembled again, struggling to stay in control. This man Jix was seeing—he wasn’t normal, not at all.

His Cosmic Energy hadn’t even fluctuated when he received the gravity. That indicated two things: either Dante knew his own body so well that his Energy didn’t unconsciously assist him, or—an even more disturbing possibility—he had developed such immense willpower that he didn’t even need to rely on his Energy.

And seeing how he smiled in the face of such a destructive, chaotic force, Jix knew it was the second one.

"Do you feel what it’s like to have your body crushed, Mister Dante?" Jix grinned wickedly. "Can you sense that feeling of being on the verge of death at any moment?"

Dante chuckled and raised his arm. The color around them deepened into a dark purple hue.

"If you want to kill me, you’ll have to do more than this."

"My ability marks a person so that they are under constant gravitational pressure. Increasing gravity on a single body is something I mastered after years of practice." Jix pointed his cane at Dante. "So, as a gift, I’ll give you all of it. Train until you master it completely, and don’t let those bastards take the city."

Dante nodded firmly as a third layer of pressure crushed him. Jix transferred the weight he bore onto Dante. His leg buckled forward, forcing him onto one knee, but he still fought to stay upright.

"We’ll stay here until you can walk with it, Dante."

"Underestimating someone is signing your own death warrant."

Defying previous expectations, Dante forced his bent leg up. The effort was so immense that when he finally stood again, he swayed like bamboo in a tornado. Jix had never seen anyone besides himself endure such gravity—Dante was simply an anomaly, absurdly beyond the norm.

So many years wandering from place to place. So many forests and cities he had visited, so many peoples with different abilities—none had the strength to push past their limits. They either gave up along the way or never even tried. Jix had been about to give up himself when he heard about the man who had taken down a Lagmorato with a single shooter.

Now, seeing him up close—his carefree personality, his destructive power—Jix knew there was a chance.

He could live in an interesting world, one that wouldn’t crumble at his touch.

He could… stop wanting to die every second of the day.

"Dante," his voice was lighter now, "show me that you’re different from the men who talked big but did little. Come on, train with me. Let’s fight."

His fists, though trembling, rose into position. Dante clenched his teeth as he smiled, and his eyes never lost their fire.

This was the spirit. This was the struggle he sought.

Peace resided in the heart—but the body craved battle to survive.

Some people were born to be warriors.

Jix was certain—Dante was one of them. A mind and body forged to crush his enemies.