“Half a step to the right. Quarter step back. Here, like this.”

Grant lightly pulled Tyler to the right, grabbing his arms from behind, and shifting his steps. It lightly reminded of Tyler of when his Grampa had taught him how to fish all those years ago.

Even before Tyler was in position though, he felt it. The force on his shield began to increase.

And increase.

And increase.

Soon he was gritting his teeth, struggling just to hold the shield as it felt like a train was slowly gathering momentum, trying to drive over and through him. The shaking and vibrating wasn’t helping anything at all. If it wasn’t for Grant repositioning him, he would have gone flying backwards despite his steady stance. He’d long learned and been taught how to lean his body forward and down, preventing strong attacks from sending him sailing, but things were different now. His body was stronger, his strength more, his aura heavier. Which meant that every single stance and movement he made was now wrong apparently.

Kasandra had been right, getting too powerful too fast had made his body not adapt to it. Well… at least, that was what Grant had said. Tyler liked Grant though. He was a kind old man and also… incredibly strong!

Their training was simple. Grant would throw a very, very light punch at Tyler, who would raise his shield like he was about to receive the heaviest attack in the world. Then, he would step around and begin to reposition Tyler, gently moving his body from behind, whispering different instructions into his ear.

And then the ‘light punch’ from before, would get stronger and stronger, till Tyler felt like his bones were going to break. He had absolutely no idea how Grant did that. When he asked…

“Ah youth, how soon they forget about us old fogies. You’ve really never heard of my Resonating Punch? I could’ve sworn they still told stories of my old days…” Grant had said, seemingly distressed.

Still, he would never let up. No, even more terrifying, was that Grant wasn’t a fist fighter at all! He used a sword. And while they did do some training, Tyler was beaten by pure skill every time. Grant never even had to do anything special. Tyler was absolutely positive that he could use his Resonating Ability(?) through his sword. Tyler shivered at the idea of facing that. A vibrating sword slash that got stronger? That was so cool! And an absolutely horrifying idea to face.

“You’re learning quickly.” Grant said one day. A few days had passed by now and Tyler had gotten absorbed into the training. “As expected of someone with S-Rank potential. It’s amazing to see. It’s even higher than I would have ever expected.” Grant said with slight awe one day.

He had seemed like a strict no nonsense man when they’d first met him, but he was always kind around Tyler. He’d go back to a stern, military like man, when they left the compound but he always showed his best side when they were alone. Tyler just smiled, scratching his cheek in embarrassment. He wasn’t a genius, it was all due to the summoning and his being a True Hero! But he couldn’t really say that…

“Still…” Grant said, mulling over his words for a moment, before his face seemed to morph more closely to stone. “The company you keep is… eclectic.”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah! They’re amazing.” Tyler said, nodding along.

Grant’s face grew slightly pinched. “Well… I do not agree with your decision to join hands with a demon. In fact… if I was not training you, I might be swayed to take his life.”

Tyler gasped, looking at Grant with horror in his eyes. Grant merely nodded, a slight smile showing on his face.

“Demons are pests and invaders, meant to be eradicated to the last. Still, my values are my own and the young are free to make their own choices. I expect his betrayal to be inevitable and I’ll make you strong enough to survive and learn from it.”

“Derek isn’t like that!” Tyler screamed out in rage. Derek, betraying them? After all he’s done? Not a chance. Tyler could feel his blood boiling over. He had known there was and would be people targeting Derek but to hear that even Grant wanted him dead… to hear that he thought all demons deserved it just like Riary used to… after learning from Konohora that demons like Derek were normal… it made his skin crawl. How… could there possibly be so much hate? Derek had never done a single thing to deserve it. He was his companion and friend.

Grant held up his hands. “Don’t worry about my words, these are just my thoughts. I won’t train you less or anything. Everyone has their own values. Now, let’s start again. Raise your shield and-”

“No.” Tyler said, with conviction.

Grant frowned. “No?”

“Apologize. You can’t talk about my friends that way.” Tyler said, glaring at Grant.

Grant’s frown increased. “You want to apologize for speaking ill of a demon?”

“I don’t care if he’s a demon. He’s my friend. So, apologize.” Tyler’s glare could’ve cut threw stone but Grant just stood there. He had seen far stronger glares before. Tyler’s didn’t even contain any killing intent. Too soft, far too soft. Hundreds of millions of young men just like him lost their lives too early on the battlefield. Looking at him brought back those memories, of comrades lost, of friends murdered before his eyes. He could feel his war wounds, the scars of the mind, rising up.

Still, he had long conquered such things. The mind could be trained like any other element. After all, it was part of the body. He stared into Tyler’s eyes and eventually huffed. Let the young be young.

“I apologize and will speak no more on any of your… friends. I can not and will not change my thoughts but I’ll keep them to myself in the future.”

Tyler still glared, but eventually nodded. Eventually, they went back to training, Grant positioning Tyler from behind, slowly moving him into place, whispering into his ears. Tyler couldn’t see behind him, but there was a small… very happy… smile on Grant’s face.

He loved training young men after all.

*****

“Alright! Now, fifty push up’s!”

Konohora huffed a breath but immediately fell flat onto the ground after her five mile run. That might not have been hard with her body, except she had been made to carry a five hundred pound stone strapped to her back. Of course, she also had to do the push ups with it still on.

As soon as it was done, she was ordered to start another run. This time, through an obstacle course. Killion had immediately taken her outside the city after their training had begun, where everything had already been set up. After all, the trainers Kasandra got did this for a living. It made sense they’d each already have their own areas set up.

Still, some changes had to be made. This was their third day now and Konohora knew they would have to up the weight soon. Konohora was shocked. She knew she had gotten physically stronger but the actual amount continued to surprise her. Her entire path towards power was designed around the breaking and regrowing of the body. And she had… done quite a lot of that in the jungle. She still remembered she had been dazed, her soul drowning, life literally exploding out every single one of her pores, Happy inches away from grabbing ahold of the Gem. Although Happy had still taken it in the end… if Derek hadn’t reached it first, Konohora might have really become Lost.

She had refused. Using every scrap of her dwindling willpower, she had grabbed hold of the massive spear at her feet, and threw it with everything she had. Her muscles had instantly been destroyed and remade, continually. She could feel herself, moments away from dying, and had refused with every fiber of being to go quietly. Moments after throwing it, she had walked a metaphorical tightrope, barely keeping hold of her literal self.

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The process had been thoroughly terrifying. It was like she had been in a fog, her mind fading away, even her soul fading away, as life and energy suffused all of her body. She had not shown it, but their travel via caravan had been… rough. She could feel that same outpouring of life now ingrained in her body, at all times. It brought back the constant memory of that moment. She would rather have died, than fade away like that. It reminded her of some of the worst mental diseases she had seen and been unable to cure in her time. Her healing vastly slowed her aging and she was eternally grateful for that. She’d seen what age had done to the minds of others. Nearly becoming Lost had just reaffirmed her will on the matter. She did not wish to grow old. She would rather die before that.

“Come on! Up up up! Climb that wall!” Killion climbed out.

Konohora did so, feeling her bones creak and her muscles pull tight. She frowned. Her body was not breaking despite the weight and exercise. She felt very tired but not exhausted. It was awe inspiring. She enjoyed the process of growing her physical strength. It brought her great personal pleasure. Especially as her healing naturally increased her strength without altering her body shape much. It was a… very pleasurable experience in her youth to surprise others with her strength. An experience she may soon get again.

She had lifted that spear. That memory stuck out to her, now and always. It was beyond what she had, honestly, ever believed she would be able to do. B-Rank… she was not a genius like Riary or Tyler or even Derek. Her healing powers were stronger due to her particular form of faith in Truth but that was it. It had taken her over five decades to reach the middle to high point of C-Rank. Considering she didn’t spend her every moment training and fighting, it was a good speed. She would most likely have reached B-Rank in another few decades.

But even then, she would never have imagined being able to lift that spear. She may have been able to, others in her faith had certainly reached such a point, but it was beyond her imagination before. But she had done it.

And she would do it again. This time, without anything extra fueling her. Just her own body. Her own strength.

She sped up.

“You can still go faster?! You’ve been holding out! Alright, alright, fine. We will get you a heavier stone tomorrow. Six hundred, no, no, seven hundred pounds.” Killion called out in her strange accent.

*****

In a small courtyard, Riary sat cross legged. It was peaceful, not a sound could be heard beyond the sounds of nature and light breathing.

But she was not alone.

Close by, also sitting on the ground, was Carvanses. His eyes were closed, a gentle smile on his face. Riary too had a gentle smile, but it was frustrated slightly. She was on the cusp of something, not a new gain in strength but something… different. Although they both sat there, eyes closed, they were not doing nothing or merely thinking.

Their mana and mana senses were currently in conflict. Well, conflict would be the wrong word. More so, exploration. Every mage had their own mana but before that, they had their mana sense. This wasn’t unique to mages, anyone could pick it up, but it was rare for a non-mage to do so. After all, once you awakened your mana sense, almost nothing was stopping you from at least starting the path to magic.

The path to magic… Riary had begun hers what felt like a long time ago to her, but would’ve been critically short to others. Carvanses was inwardly impressed as he continued to feel out her mana and sense. She had advanced, yes, but magic… magic was complicated and simple. There were millions of books on it and the study of it. It was a science, with certain foundational rules and realities to it.

But almost all of them had been broken before. Because magic was also an art. There were always exceptions, always differences, and Riary’s magic, her mana… it was beautiful to his eyes. It told a story, but it was not a story. It was similar to a painting but just like any good painting, it was so much more. It was an utter conviction, a statement, a scream of rage and a harsh demand to reality. Summarized into a word…

It was Retribution.

Such a strong intense fire she had. S-Rank potential was rare but when it did show up… the only truly promising ones were those like Riary. Carvanses did not know enough about Tyler to make any sort of judgements, but he didn’t seem to have the qualities needed. There was no… drive in his actions, it seemed. No underlying, constant, force.

Carvanses hadn’t even needed to see Riary’s magic to know that she was forever dissatisfied. Nothing would ever be ‘enough’ for her. There would always be more to learn, higher heights to reach, more world to know. But even more than that… it was like she herself was burning, forever, constantly. As if she had long ago been set alight and only her potential had staved off her from being burnt out.

Still… Magic came from the heart and the heart came from the mind. There were troubles, obvious troubles, in Riary’s heart and mind.

“What troubles you?” Carvanses said, not unkindly.

Yet still, Riary reacted as if she had been slapped, pulling away from her sensing of his own Maigc.

“W-What?”

“You are not well. You are clearly deeply upset. You have been… for a very long time. It has died down now… but the feelings remain. They cloud you. What is the cause?” Cravanses asked, voice soft.

Riary reacted like a cat being sprayed with water. Her glare was a mighty match for his soft smile.

“I’m fine.”

“You are not.”

Riary looked like she bit into multiple lemons. Her magical aura and rage colored the air, meeting his own gentle nature. Now there was conflict between the two, conflict he happily gave way for. Before long, the Intense Fire had scoured the Gentle Fire of Soil. Riary let out a sigh, like a deflating balloon. Her face looked haggard, like he’d never seen before.

“It’s… our party member. Derek.”

“You hate him.” Carvanses said. A statement of fact, not a question.

Riary flinched like she’d been struck, but nodded.

“...My family… was killed by demons.” Riary said with gritted teeth.

“Ah.” Cavanses said, connecting the dots.

“You hate him… but only because of his race. His personality isn’t enough nor his actions. And yet, you can not help to hate.” Carvanses frowned a little. Not at the situation but something wasn’t right. Something felt off. “...is there more?”

Riary pursed her lips. She didn’t like being read so easily but still… she could feel Carvanses nature and personality. Where her flames were retribution, his were the gentle warmth of the heated soil. A flame of earth, put out by dirt. She could feel and practically see his gentle soul. He felt like Konohora.

“...he forgave me. He learned of what happened to my family and he forgave me… after I accused him of, something. I tried to kill him… and he forgave me. I tried to kill his friend, and he forgave me. We have a Truth Priestess… she has confirmed it’s true. He doesn’t want to kill or hurt me or see me dead. He truly forgives me. He saved Konohora’s life. No, even before that, he saved all of our lives. He… he stopped… he stopped something terrible from happening to me.” Riary shook slightly. “And yet….” She trailed off.

“And yet, you still hate him. You still want to kill him.”

Now Riary really did react like she’d been struck. Her emotions and magic became in a turmoil, her mind feeling like it was cracking slightly. She hated him, she couldn’t help it, she had even tried not to. But it was impossible. It was like she was betraying herself, her family, her very mind and soul. Why couldn’t she stop hating him? Stop wanting to kill him? She knew, she knew he didn’t deserve it. But… the rage burned so deep and hot in her.

“There is a simple answer.”

Riary looked up sharply.

“What is it?”

“Simple. Hate him.”

Riary felt like she was struck dumb. What?

“I don’t-”

“But don’t kill him.”

Riary frowned.

“You mistake emotion for logic. No matter the logic… you can not change your emotions. That is not how they work. Even if it would be easier, smarter, more right, better… emotions do not care, nor shall they ever do so. They are like unruly children, constantly needing to be shown the correct way before even giving the slightest amount. No matter the emotion, they all are stubborn.” Carvanses said with a smile.

“But… it’s… not right.” Riary finally said.

“Yet, it is. You are you. He is he. You will change, given time. Or you may not. Emotions are like that. You are free to feel however you want. It is only actions that matter. Hate him, do not try to force yourself to stop. It won’t work and will only hurt you. Merely do not kill him. Or do. Emotions are guides, but it’s logic that chooses the plan.”

Riary glared lightly. “I’m not going to actually kill him. Not after… no.”

“Then don’t.” Carvanses shrugged. Riary let out a long sigh of exasperation.

They returned to their sensing but… Carvanses could feel it. Riary’s magic… it was smoother now. Less frantic. Less… disturbed. He caught her muttering.

“Just let myself hate him huh…”

Carvanses smiled. Not all roads led to good outcomes, merely the best available ones.