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Chapter 9
The Beginning of Training
Morning sunlight filtered through the trees, bathing the clearing in warm gold.
Nick and Miguel stood a few steps away from the old elf, neither lowering their guard completely.
Nick folded his arms.
"So... you want us to follow you to the Glarian Kingdom."
Krogas nodded.
"I do."
Miguel glanced sideways at Nick before looking back at the elf.
"We're still not sure we can trust you."
"I wouldn't expect you to," Krogas replied calmly.
The answer caught both boys off guard.
Krogas continued,
"Trust is earned, not demanded."
Silence settled between them.
Nick scratched the back of his head.
"...Fine."
Miguel looked at him.
"We're agreeing?"
Nick shrugged.
"If he wanted to kill us, we'd already be dead."
Miguel sighed.
"...Fair point."
Krogas gave a faint smile.
"Wise decision."
Nick quickly pointed a finger at him.
"Doesn't mean we trust you."
"I know."
The old elf turned toward the forest.
"We won't leave immediately."
Both boys blinked.
"We won't?"
Krogas shook his head.
"This forest is dangerous."
"You've survived through luck and talent."
"But talent without a body to support it is meaningless."
He looked over their tiny frames.
"You are both children."
Nick glanced at his skinny arms.
"...Can't argue with that."
Miguel pinched his own bicep.
"There isn't even enough muscle to pinch."
Krogas almost smiled.
"We'll remain here for two... perhaps three weeks."
Nick tilted his head.
"Training?"
"Yes."
"So we learn magic?"
"No."
Both boys froze.
"No magic?"
"The first lesson..."
Krogas folded his arms.
"...is your body."
---
The first day was hell.
"Run."
The command sounded simple.
It wasn't.
The boys ran through the forest while Krogas walked behind them with effortless steps.
After fifteen minutes...
Nick collapsed.
"I..."
"...can't..."
"...feel..."
"...my legs..."
Miguel landed beside him moments later, breathing like a dying animal.
"I think..."
"...I'm already dead again..."
Krogas looked down at them.
"Get up."
Neither moved.
"Get."
"Up."
Somehow...
They did.
---
The second day brought squats.
Then push-ups.
Then carrying heavy logs.
Then climbing hills.
Then running again.
Mana was forbidden.
Every time Nick tried secretly reinforcing his legs with fire mana...
Krogas tapped him on the forehead before he even finished.
"No."
Nick rubbed the sore spot.
"How did you know?"
"I've lived longer than you've existed."
Miguel laughed.
"Get caught, genius."
Nick pointed accusingly.
"Traitor."
---
By the end of the first week...
Their arms no longer trembled from carrying wood.
Their breathing became steadier.
They still looked painfully skinny.
Nick examined himself in the river one afternoon.
"...At this rate..."
"...no girl's ever going to look at us."
Miguel looked at his own reflection.
"They probably wouldn't even notice us."
"They'd think we're lost little brothers."
Nick sighed dramatically.
"At least we've got decent faces."
Miguel nodded.
"I'll take that victory."
Krogas walked past without slowing.
"If you're worrying about girls during training..."
"...you clearly have enough energy for another ten laps."
The boys immediately stopped talking.
"...We're running again, aren't we?"
"Yes."
---
Nearly three weeks passed.
Although their bodies remained those of young boys, they had grown noticeably stronger.
Their footing was steadier.
Their movements sharper.
Most importantly...
They no longer exhausted themselves after a few minutes of running.
One afternoon, after finishing another brutal session, Nick watched Krogas practicing alone.
The old elf's sword cut through the air with graceful precision.
Every swing was smooth.
Every movement efficient.
Nick's eyes sparkled.
"That's..."
"...so cool."
He jogged over.
"Krogas!"
The elf lowered his sword.
"Yes?"
"Can you teach me some sword techniques?"
"No."
"...Eh?"
"You are not ready."
Nick frowned.
"Just one."
"No."
"Please?"
"No."
Nick puffed out his cheeks.
"Pleeease?"
"No."
Nick clasped both hands together, giving the most pitiful expression he could manage.
His large eyes practically shimmered.
Miguel covered his face.
"...That's embarrassing."
Krogas stared at Nick for several long seconds.
Then...
He sighed.
"...One minute."
Nick's face lit up.
"Really?!"
"Hold it."
He extended the sword.
Nick accepted it with both hands.
"...Whoa..."
It was heavier than he expected.
Still...
The moment his fingers wrapped around the hilt...
A faint ripple passed across the blade.
So faint that it vanished almost instantly.
Nick noticed nothing.
Miguel noticed nothing.
But Krogas did.
His pupils contracted.
His calm expression cracked for the first time in years.
Impossible...
That...
How can a child...?
The ripple disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.
Nick simply smiled, admiring the sword.
"...It's beautiful."
Krogas remained completely silent.
For the first time in decades...
The old elf found himself genuinely shaken.
To Be Continued...