The world was pain.
Nazeku woke to the dull throb of his ribs, each breath dragging like fire through his lungs. The ceiling above him was dark wood, flickering with candlelight. Someone had wrapped him in thick bandages; the scent of herbs filled the air.
He tried to sit up.
A sharp pain tore through his side, and he dropped back down, gasping
Still hurts…
The faint shimmer of golden aura still lingered in his mind, one single kick, that overwhelming pressure. Even now, his body remembered it.
So that's the power of a Gold rank warrior…
I couldn't even react.
He let his arm rest across his chest, eyes drifting shut.
That difference in power… it's terrifying.
Days passed,
his body healed gradually, muscles twitching whenever he tried to move. Varric checked on him occasionally, saying little, watching from the doorway like a silent guardian.
After a few days, Nazeku managed to stand, barely. Sweat ran down his neck, his body trembling under its own weight.
"Don't rush it," Varric said from across the room.
"Can't rush something that's already crawling," Nazeku muttered, forcing a grin.
"That mouth still works, I see."
"It's my best feature."
Varric smirked faintly, leaving him to his struggle.
By the second week, Nazeku could walk without stumbling. The pain hadn't vanished, but he learned to move with it, to use it as a reminder.
He sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed, breathing deeply.
He focused.
Slowly, he drew in his aura — faint threads of silvery-blue light began to shimmer around his skin. It wasn't strong or steady; it wavered like a candle flame.
Externally, aura acts mainly as an armor … but internally, it enhances the body.
He guided the flow toward his arm, the aura dimmed instantly, slipping out of control. His body tensed; pain shot through his ribs.
No… too rough.
He exhaled slowly, refocusing. This time, he visualized the flow channels of light running through him like rivers.
Bit by bit, he learned to nudge the current instead of forcing it.
Hours passed. Sweat dripped from his brow, his breathing ragged.
And then a pulse.
A soft glow radiated beneath his skin. Aura began moving in rhythm with his heartbeat, faint but steady.
There… that's it.
His body relaxed slightly, pain dulling to a background thrum. The energy coursing through him wasn't much, but it was his. Controlled, refined.
So that's how it feels… when the body and aura move as one.
You adapt quickly.
Nazeku's eyes opened halfway, the dragon's voice low and distant.
"Tch. Took you long enough to say something."
You do not need my words. You already know the path.
"I don't know it. I'm just guessing until something works."
Instinct. That's how all warriors start. Keep refining it.
"Refine, huh? Yeah… I'll refine until even Golds can't touch me."
A low rumble echoed faintly amusement, perhaps.
Then let your body remember the pain. It is your first teacher.
The voice faded, leaving only silence and the soft hum of circulating aura.
Nazeku stared at his hands. The faint silver-blue light still danced along his veins.
"The body remembers…" he whispered. "Then I'll make it remember how to never fall again."
He closed his eyes once more, sinking deeper into meditation.
Outside, the night wind brushed against the window and for the first time since the battle, Nazeku's aura burned steady, calm, and alive.