The days following my training with my father were some of the most grueling I had ever experienced—in both of my lives.
Every morning, before the sun had fully risen, he would take me to the clearing behind our house. He drilled me relentlessly, forcing me to repeat the same motions over and over again—until my muscles burned and my breath came in ragged gasps.
But I endured.
Because I had no choice.
I had already faced death once in this life. I had seen the things lurking beyond the village, things that should not exist. If I wanted to survive—if I wanted to protect what I had in this new life—I needed to become stronger.
And strength was something earned through blood and sweat.
"Again."
I gritted my teeth, forcing mana through my limbs as I surged forward. My wooden dagger, now reinforced with a faint layer of blue energy, cut through the air.
But my father was faster.
He sidestepped effortlessly, twisting away from my strike before slamming his elbow into my ribs. The impact knocked the air from my lungs, and I staggered backward.
"Too predictable," he said. "You're relying too much on mana reinforcement. It's making your movements rigid."
I growled under my breath. "Then what should I do?"
He crossed his arms, watching me with an unreadable expression. "You need to stop thinking of mana as a tool and start treating it as an extension of yourself."
An extension of myself…
I took a deep breath, rolling my shoulders. My mana pulsed beneath my skin, the familiar warmth wrapping around my limbs like a second layer of muscle.
This time, I didn't force it.
I let it flow naturally, guiding it rather than shoving it forward. The difference was immediate.
I moved—not as a body enhanced by mana, but as one fluid entity.
My feet barely touched the ground as I closed the distance between us. My father's eyes flickered with approval for a split second before I struck.
He parried—but not easily.
For the first time, I felt his stance shift. A reaction.
A sign that I was getting faster.
"Good," my father said, nodding in approval. "You're learning faster than I expected."
I wiped the sweat from my forehead, my chest rising and falling with each breath. "So what's next?"
A slow smirk formed on his lips.
"Fighting me was just the first step. Now, you learn how to fight something that actually wants to kill you."
I frowned. "You mean another Aberration?"
He shook his head. "Not yet. That comes later. Right now, I want you to face something that's dangerous, but predictable."
I narrowed my eyes. "And what exactly does that mean?"
Instead of answering, he turned toward the treeline, raising his fingers to his mouth.
Then, he whistled.
A moment of silence. Then, from deep within the forest… something moved.
The sound of branches snapping filled the air. Heavy footsteps approached, methodical and slow, as if whatever lurked beyond the trees wasn't in a hurry.
Then, it stepped into view.
A massive black-furred beast, standing nearly twice my height, muscles rippling beneath its thick coat. Its golden eyes locked onto me, unblinking, calculating.
A direwolf.
I tensed, fingers gripping my wooden dagger. "Are you insane?" I hissed at my father.
He only shrugged. "You wanted to learn, didn't you?"
I had no time to argue.
The direwolf lunged.
I barely avoided its first attack, throwing myself to the side as its massive claws raked through the air where I had been standing. The force of its movement sent dust and leaves flying in all directions.
It's fast.
Too fast.
I rolled to my feet, eyes locked onto the beast as it pivoted, baring sharp fangs. This wasn't like fighting my father. There was no technique, no strategy—just raw killing instinct.
If I made a single mistake… I would die.
The wolf lunged again, and this time, I didn't dodge completely. I couldn't.
Instead, I redirected my mana, channeling it into my legs. I kicked off the ground at the last second, twisting my body midair. The wolf's claws grazed my shoulder, but I used the momentum to spin behind it.
I struck.
My dagger, reinforced with mana, slashed through the beast's hind leg.
A howl of pain erupted from the direwolf as blood splattered against the dirt. But I knew better than to celebrate.
It wasn't done yet.
If anything… I had just made it angrier.
The wolf whipped around, fury flashing in its golden eyes. It was no longer testing me.
It was going to kill me.
It pounced, closing the gap faster than before. I had no time to dodge.
Instinct took over.
I threw up my arms, reinforcing them with mana.
The impact nearly shattered my bones. The force of its attack sent me skidding backward, my feet digging into the ground. My dagger was still in my grip, but my arms felt like they were on fire.
I couldn't keep up.
Not yet.
But there was one last thing I could try.
I took a deep breath, letting the mana inside me settle. Instead of reinforcing my limbs, I guided it toward something else.
Something smaller.
I focused on my dagger.
It vibrated faintly in my grasp, the blue glow intensifying as the mana settled into the blade instead of my body.
A final gamble.
The wolf lunged again.
I stepped forward—not away, but toward it.
And I struck.
The moment my dagger connected, it pierced through the wolf's throat, slicing deep.
A violent jerk. A pained snarl.
Then, silence.
The beast collapsed.
And I was still standing.
I stood there, panting, blood dripping from my dagger. My arms ached, my muscles screamed in protest, but I had won.
A deep chuckle brought me back to reality.
I turned to see my father grinning, arms crossed. "You learn fast."
I exhaled. "You're insane."
He shrugged. "Maybe. But now you know what a real fight feels like."
I looked down at the dead wolf, my heart still hammering in my chest. It wasn't an Aberration, but it had still been a deadly opponent. And yet… I had won.
I wasn't the ruler I had been in my past life.
But I was becoming something else.
Something stronger.
And this was just the beginning.