The Iron Fang Guild's courtyard was silent after sunset, lit only by torches and the faint silver glow of moonlight on stone.
The recruits had all left.
All except one.
Nazeku stood shirtless again, fists clenched, his breath heavy. Every inch of his body screamed in pain. He'd been training alone for hours, refining the flow of aura through his limbs until his knuckles bled.
He paused only when he sensed someone behind him.
"You hit harder than most rookies hit in their dreams."
The voice was deep, calm, edged with amusement.
Nazeku turned and saw Varric, arms folded, a faint smirk on his face.
"Oh—! Instructor!" Nazeku said quickly, scratching the back of his head with that easy grin. "Didn't see you there. You spying on me?"
"Spying?" Varric stepped closer, boots echoing. "No. Watching. You've got strange habits, kid. You hide your aura like a thief, yet your body fights like a trained veteran. That's not something I see in a Bronze 2."
Nazeku shrugged, grinning.
"Guess I'm just built different"
Varric stared at him for a long moment, then laughed.
"Built different, huh? Fine. Let's test how well built you are. You're staying after training tomorrow. You'll be training under me personally."
Nazeku's grin didn't fade, but behind his eyes, calculation sparked.
"You're serious?"
"Completely."
"What's the catch?"
"You survive."
Varric turned to leave.
"If you last a 2 days, you might just be worth my time."
The Next Day
The morning came with thunderclouds and the smell of rain.
Nazeku stood on the training field before dawn, half-asleep, gauntlet glinting faintly.
"You ready?" Varric's voice boomed from across the field.
"Ready as I'll ever be, sir," Nazeku said, stretching lazily.
"Good. Let's begin."
Varric didn't move at first. He simply released his aura.
It was like the world itself pressed down.
The ground groaned, dust scattered, and Nazeku's knees buckled instantly.
He bit down hard, forcing himself to stay upright.
His breath came in sharp bursts, muscles trembling violently.
Gold hun… this is the difference.
Every instinct screamed to kneel, to yield.
But deep inside, the dragon's will stirred faintly, not speaking, only pulsing once, a slow, steady thrum that burned through his veins.
Nazeku straightened his back.
Varric's eyes flicked with surprise.
"Not bad. Most Bronze warriors faint by now."
"Lucky, remember?" Nazeku wheezed, forcing a grin.
Varric chuckled.
"Then keep being lucky."
He vanished.
A second later, Nazeku felt a crushing blow to his ribs, he barely managed to block, the force sending him tumbling backward through the dirt.
He coughed, stood, wiped the blood from his mouth.
"That all, old man?"
"You talk too much."
Varric came again faster this time. A flurry of strikes, each one layered with precise aura control.
Nazeku couldn't see half of them.
But he could feel them.
His dragon eye didn't awaken yet only a flicker of enhanced perception, just enough to read the motion of Varric's shoulders, the flow of energy in his strikes.
He dodged once, then again, then countered with a short jab to Varric's side.
It didn't hurt the instructor, but it made him stop.
Varric looked down at the faint aura ripple where Nazeku's punch landed.
"Hmm. That's a warrior's instinct."
Nazeku grinned weakly, hands trembling.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
Hours passed.
By the time the sun rose high, Nazeku's body was a map of bruises.
His breathing was ragged, every muscle screaming yet his focus never wavered.
He analyzed everything: the angle of Varric's punches, the aura density around his limbs, the momentary slack between attacks.
Each strike taught him more than a month of reading scrolls ever could.
So that's what aura mastery feels like…
Not power but precision.
When the session finally ended, Nazeku collapsed to one knee, chest heaving.
Varric tossed him a canteen of water.
"Drink. You earned it."
Nazeku caught it, gulped it down, then gave a shaky grin.
"When do we start tomorrow?"
Varric laughed out loud.
"You're insane."
"No, sir," Nazeku said, eyes cold for just a second.
"I'm surviving."
Varric paused the faintest sense of understanding passing between them.
"Then come again tomorrow. Same time. Let's see if you can survive another day."
Nazeku nodded, the faint smile returning, soft, harmless, disarming.
But inside, his mind was already whirring like a blade.
A Gold 2 warrior's aura feels like fire pressing against my bones.
I need to push past this pain, refine it, make it mine.
As Varric walked away, Nazeku looked down at his trembling hands.
The faintest crimson light flickered beneath his skin gone before he could even blink.
He clenched his fists.
"A man's greatest weapon…" he whispered, "is not his sword but his body."
And then he smiled, wide, harmless, foolish.
Just another Bronze trainee to anyone watching.
But inside, the dragon stirred again proud, silent, and waiting.