Aseel tightened his fists and directed the mana from the new Dantata to his arm. He felt strength coursing through his limbs, boosting his physical abilities.
"Now, my journey to the top begins again, and I will show this world, my glory, and my strength."
His success in forming the Danta was just a first step towards absolute power. The days turned into weeks; he spent them improving his physical endurance and his movements.
He began to read the basics of Fornes's aura; he contemplated the book and memorized it well, but when he tried to create his aura, he failed over and over again. He held the wooden sword.
"This body needs to get stronger," Aseel whispered, heading out to the back training yard, the one no one in the house used. He began practicing strength and deadly precision, how to hit weak points, and how to cause the most damage with the least effort.
After only a few weeks of physical training, he felt the urge to try something new. He headed to his room and noticed that his frail body was beginning to gain some strength, his reflexes were quickening, and his every movement was calculated.
As Aseel was practicing his mastered movements, oblivious to the outside world, the door to his room was violently opened.
Derek, the third brother, was standing in the doorway, his face grim with anger, his eyes shining with malice. "What are you doing, you little bitch?" Derek sneered, seeing Aseel holding the wooden sword.
"Are you playing knight games? What a pathetic sight—a knight who can't even muster an ounce of aura in that defective Danta of yours!"
He spoke sarcastically, then Derek strode forward with arrogant steps, a faint red aura surrounding him, indicating his budding strength.
For a moment, Derek felt a chill, but his blind anger overcame any suspicion that this person standing before him had changed.
"What did you say, bastard? Do you dare respond?"
Derek lunged at Aseel as he usually did. Little did he know that he was no longer facing the weak child he'd always beaten.
He was facing someone cunning, ruthless—a killer shaped by hundreds of hours of tactical combat… in a video game.
Derek's fist, which carried a faint aura, was raised. But Aseel couldn't block it. "Yes, this is what I needed, a real fight. For God's sake, what have I been doing for the past few weeks?" Aseel said, clutching his stomach from the severity of Derek's blow.
After a few exchanges of blows, blood came out of his mouth. Despite the pain that swept through every organ in his body, he began to understand the concept of aura. His ability to focus on that feeling inside him, that feeling he had never felt before, a torrent of energy flowing from the middle of his stomach to the extremities of his body, his eyes flashed with a blue glow.
Aseel had managed to envelop his wooden sword in a dark blue aura. Derek couldn't believe what he was seeing.
"That idiot, wasn't his dantha defective? What…"
Before Derek realized what was happening, he rushed towards Aseel forcefully and with a quick movement. Derek avoided Aseel's first blow and stepped back. He did not expect that Aseel, who was a burden on the family, would make him step back.
Aseel's movement quickened to wrap around Derek, aiming a stab at him. Derek felt a sharp prick in his wrist. His hand shook, and his aura shook.
"What is this?" Derek muttered, looking down at his wrist. There was no visible sign. No bruise, just unreasonable pain that sent Derek's mind into a tailspin.
Aseel didn't give him a chance to catch his breath. His movements were fluid, quick, and precisely aimed. Aseel slipped under another punch, then used the sword to strike at his knee. Not to break a bone, but to hit a pressure point, doing this to throw him off balance. Derek staggered.
This wasn't what he expected from the weak Aseel. Aseel's fighting instinct, honed over hundreds of hours of gameplay, was in full force. He moved around Derek, hitting vital points: joints, soft muscles, and the areas that caused the most pain and immobilized movement with the least effort. The fight wasn't an exchange of blows but a lesson in pain manipulation.
"You're nothing!"
Derek shouted with trembling lips, trying to land a powerful blow. But Aseel had already beaten him to it. The wooden sword had already slid across Derek's knee, followed by a light swipe at his ankle. Derek collapsed to his knees, stunned and incredulous. This time, he couldn't even touch Aseel.
Aseel stood in front of him. No expression of triumph, just a cold calm. An aura pressed down on him. Aseel slowly bent down, moving closer to Derek's ear, who was panting with his eyes wide open in shock and horror.
Aseel's aura was faint, but now it was overwhelming. It surrounded Derek, pressing down on him. Aseel whispered in a low voice, a voice that didn't sound like a child's: "Third Brother, Derek Fornes... Do you want me to start with the legs or the hands?"
Derek froze in shock at what he heard. The weak child he had previously bullied was gone. In front of him was a cold, deadly, merciless entity. Was this Aseel?
Fear began to creep into his heart, a fear he had never experienced before.
"Aaaaah!"
Derek let out a muffled, barely audible scream. Aseel shattered Derek's right knee with a calculated, precise strike with his wooden sword, followed by the sound of bones cracking. Then he moved to the left one.
Derek's eyes widened; the crazy man in front of him wasn't kidding about his limbs being shattered. The pain engulfing him was unbearable; Derek was writhing on the ground.
"Now… you'll remember every blow you've taken."
Aseel said. Drake raised his eyes to stare at Aseel in absolute horror.
"And this… how it begins remember it,"
That was the last voice Derek heard.
The fear now etched in Derek's memory will always be a reminder of the arrival of the 'Cunning Heir.
Aseel was literally savoring the sight before him. All he needed was practice on a human dummy, watching his brother Derek lose consciousness from the pain.