Just moments after the Master left the room, Chris and Leo quietly entered, both wearing looks of concern. Chris walked over and crouched beside Bolt's bed, his usual playful tone softened.
Chris: "Hey, kid. You doing okay? Heard you passed out again."
Bolt (nodding weakly): "Yeah… the Master said I overused my Sage Aura. It completely drained my energy and knocked me out."
He paused for a second, then smiled faintly.
Bolt: "But… you know what surprised me the most? It was the Master. He sat beside me while I was unconscious… He looked so calm, almost… worried. I've never seen that side of him before."
Leo chuckled, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.
Leo: "You got that right. He always acts cold and strict, like nothing affects him… but deep down, he cares more than anyone else."
Chris (nodding): "Yeah. He doesn't show it, but we know. He's the one who took us in when we were just a couple of street thieves. Gave us food, shelter, and purpose… Held our hands when no one else did."
Leo: "That's why we respect him so much. We may not have a real family, but he's the reason we're standing here today."
Chris: "We owe him everything. That's why we'd do anything for him."
Bolt listened silently, then spoke, his voice softer than before.
Bolt: "I… I don't have a real family either. I was raised in an orphanage. But the Father there… he cared for me like I was his own. The kids were like my brothers. I was never made to feel like I was alone."
Leo stepped forward and gave Bolt a gentle pat on the shoulder.
Leo: "Then you're just like us. Whether it's blood or not, bonds are what truly matter."
Chris (smiling): "From today, the three of us… we're sworn brothers."
Bolt's eyes welled up with tears, his heart warmed more than it had been in years.
Bolt (voice shaking): "You guys… you're gonna make me cry."
Leo (grinning): "Rest up, little bro. Tomorrow your real training begins. If you need anything, just call us."
As the two older boys walked out, Bolt lay back down, a faint smile on his face.
For the first time in a long while…
He didn't feel alone.
The Training Begins
The next morning, Bolt stood at the training grounds, eyes gleaming with energy. He clenched his fists, determined to take the next step forward.
Bolt (firmly): "Master, I'm ready. Please guide me to the next step. I'll give it my all!"
Master Thomas stood a few steps away, arms folded, his usual cold expression unchanged.
Master Thomas: "Looks like you've regained your strength. Good."
He pointed toward a side building.
Master Thomas: "Go to the storage room. There's a large bag of stones inside—bring it here."
Bolt nodded and rushed off. Within minutes, he returned, hauling a heavy sack over his shoulder. He dropped it in front of the Master, who reached inside and pulled out a shimmering pink crystal-like stone.
Master Thomas (holding up the crystal): "Watch carefully."
He slowly wrapped his palm with a glowing white Sage Aura. Within seconds, the crystal in his hand cracked—then shattered into countless tiny shards.
Bolt's eyes widened in shock.
Bolt: "Wha—what just happened? Why did it explode?!"
Master Thomas: "These are called Crimson Stones. They grow in clusters inside the Crimson Forest. They're extremely sensitive to Sage Aura."
He held another stone up to the light.
Master Thomas: "Too much aura applied at once… and they shatter. But if you maintain a calm, steady flow, they remain stable."
He handed one to Bolt.
Master Thomas: "Your task is to train your aura control. Hold these stones without letting them break. Once you master that, come find me."
Bolt took the stone carefully, nodding.
Master Thomas (sternly): "And don't forget—your physical training continues. One hundred push-ups. One hundred squats. A ten-kilometer run. Every. Single. Day."
Master Thomas (his eyes narrowing): "If I catch you slacking… expect punishment."
Bolt (grinning nervously): "Y-yes, Master."
Master Thomas (turning away): "Also… take breaks. I don't want you unconscious again."
Bolt clutched the stone in both hands, staring at it with excitement and focus.
This was it—
The path to mastering Sage Aura had begun.
Day 2
Bolt sat in the courtyard, a Crimson Stone resting in his palm. He closed his eyes, slowly channelling his energy. A soft blue aura flickered to life around his hand.
CRACK!
Another stone gone.
Bolt (gritting his teeth):
"Too much… again."
Chris approached, tossing him a towel.
Chris:
"You'll get it, kid. No one gets it perfect on Day 1… or 2. Or 5."
Bolt smiled weakly, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
Day 4
Bolt had broken over thirty stones. His body was sore, his hands bruised, but his will remained unshaken.
Under a tree, he took a deep breath and tried again. This time, the blue aura stayed softer, steadier.
The stone flickered… but didn't break.
Bolt (excited):
"I'm getting there!"
CRACK!
…spoke too soon.
Day 7 – The Turning Point
Bolt meditated beneath the waterfall, legs crossed, the Crimson Stone resting on his palm.
The crashing water above roared, but Bolt was calm. He whispered to himself:
"Feel the flow. Not too fast. Not too strong… breathe with it… guide it."
The blue aura emerged, gentle and consistent.
For the first time, the stone didn't break.
He opened his eyes, water dripping from his hair, and smiled.
Day 10 – Success
Bolt walked up to Master Thomas, standing tall.
In his hand, the Crimson Stone glowed gently, completely untouched, enveloped in a soft blue aura.
Bolt:
"Master… I've completed the task."
Master Thomas examined the stone without emotion, then gave a slight nod.
Master Thomas:
"Acceptable."
Chris and Leo cheered from behind.
Leo:
"That's our boy!"
Chris:
"Didn't doubt you for a second."
Bolt couldn't help but smile.
Bolt (to himself):
"This… is just the beginning."
Bolt stood before Master Thomas, pride in his eyes, the unbroken Crimson Stone still glowing faintly in his palm.
Master Thomas, arms folded, gave a slight nod.
Master Thomas:
"You've done well. You now understand the flow and amount of Sage Aura needed… but you've only managed to channel it through your hands."
He turned away, walking slowly toward a nearby rock, then stopped and spoke again—this time with more weight in his voice.
Master Thomas:
"Controlling Sage Aura through your legs is far more difficult. The flow is less stable, and your body isn't used to channeling it downward. But it's necessary—especially in real combat."
He turned back to Bolt, sharp eyes locking on him.
Master Thomas:
"Place the Crimson Stone on the ground. Stand with both feet beside it. Now, channel your Sage Aura downward—through your legs—towards the stone. If you do it correctly, the aura will ignite blue flames around the stone without breaking it."
Bolt's expression tightened. Legs were uncharted territory for him. But he nodded.
Bolt:
"Understood, Master."
Master Thomas stepped closer, voice low but firm.
Master Thomas:
"Don't rush. This will be harder than anything you've done so far. Legs lack the precision of hands, and your core must be stable. Based on your current control… this could take you a month or more."
He paused, letting the weight of that estimate sink in.
Master Thomas:
"Once you succeed, find me."
He turned, walking away into the forest trail, disappearing into the mist.
Bolt stood still for a moment, then looked down at the Crimson Stone in his hand. He bent down, gently placed it on the grass, then stepped beside it.
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes…
And the training began—again.
Bolt stood barefoot on the cold ground, eyes locked on the Crimson Stone placed carefully between his feet. The early morning mist hung low, and the sound of the nearby waterfall echoed through the training field.
He inhaled deeply.
"Focus… downwards. Not too much. Not too little."
He clenched his fists, grounding himself, then shifted all awareness to his legs. A faint shimmer of blue flickered around his body, but as it moved downward—
Crack!
The Crimson Stone burst into fragments.
Bolt gritted his teeth in frustration.
"Again."
He placed a new stone. Closed his eyes. Slowed his breathing.
The aura sparked at his feet—faint blue waves curling down his thighs, past his knees, and—
Pop!
Another failure.
The training was brutal—not physically, but mentally. His body was already sore from the constant push-ups, squats, and the 10 km run. But it was the concentration that drained him.
Each night, Bolt collapsed on the mat in the wooden hut, soaked in sweat. He would wake up before sunrise, legs trembling, but his eyes filled with purpose.
One evening, after dozens of failed attempts, he felt it—a soft hum in his thighs, the sensation of something flowing with his movement rather than against it.
He tried again.
Blue Sage Aura slowly traveled downward. Controlled. Calm. The Crimson Stone shimmered—vibrating slightly—but remained intact.
His breath caught in his throat.
"Did I…?"
But just as the aura intensified, he lost control. The flame spiked—and the stone cracked violently.
Still… it was closer than before.
Over the next sessions, Bolt began to feel the rhythm. It wasn't about pushing the aura—it was about releasing it with intention. Letting the aura flow like water down a stream, not like fire down a cliff.
Each attempt brought him a step closer.
And then—
On a quiet afternoon, when the wind was gentle and no birds chirped, Bolt stood over the stone. His blue aura, refined and steady, traveled through his legs, surrounded the Crimson Stone in a soft, swirling flame.
No burst.
The stone held.
Bolt didn't move. He barely breathed.
The flame danced gently around the stone. Blue. Controlled. Beautiful.
He finally stepped back and exhaled with disbelief and pride.
Without a word, he turned and ran towards the path leading into the forest—to find Master Thomas.
He had done it.
For the first time, Bolt stepped into the forest that bordered the village—a place he had never dared to enter until now.
The moment his feet touched the shadowed path, a strange chill ran down his spine. The trees towered overhead, their branches thick and twisted. But what truly caught his attention were the odd tags dangling from nearly every tree, swaying softly despite the still air.
What are these? Some kind of ward?
Bolt cautiously followed the narrow path that seemed to wind on its own, as though guiding him somewhere. The woods grew darker, but a faint light shone at the end.
He stepped forward—and stopped.
Before him stood an ancient wooden board, worn and cracked by time. The words carved into it were still clear: