Rian stood alone at the base of the giant tree, looking up. The cool forest wind brushed his cheeks, carrying the damp smell of earth from Catty's grave, which he had just left behind him. The five-meter distance to the treehouse window now felt like an uncrossable chasm.
The tree bark was thick and rough, but perfectly vertical, offering not a single foothold to climb. The old man's voice, "Figure out how to get up yourself," still echoed clearly, turning the calm atmosphere into a silent, tense first test.
Rian closed his eyes, ignoring the cold on his skin, and tried to focus his mind, searching for the memory of how his body reflexively used wind magic to land. A magic he now had to summon intentionally.
If wind magic can be used to land, then can it also be used to go up the tree? Is that possible? How?
I saw the old man just jump, without magic.
Can I also just jump all the way up there? Maybe... helped by mana? Let's just try it.
I'll focus mana in my legs and imagine my legs are like springs launching something up.
After Rian focused his mana in his legs, he crouched, positioning himself to jump. He could feel warm mana gathering in his thigh muscles. Then, he imagined springs in his legs, strengthening his leg muscles using the mana centered in his legs and muscles.
At the same moment Rian released his visualization and leaped, no multiple attempts were needed. He was able to jump right onto the branch foothold leading to the door. Rian grabbed the branch with both hands, barely managing to reach it.
After Rian successfully jumped and reached the house door at a height of five meters, a tense smile graced his lips. Rian entered the house. The faint aroma of herbal tea hung in the air. The old man sat cross-legged on a woven mat, pouring hot tea into a small wooden cup.
"Old man, why don't you make stairs to climb?" Rian asked.
"I don't need them," he replied without turning his head, sipping his tea.
"Oh, right, old man," Rian bowed. "Thank you for saving me and burying Catty."
"Yes. Don't worry about it. I had no intention of helping you at first. It was only because you looked like I did when I lost my friend that I helped you," he replied in a flat tone, as if it wasn't a praiseworthy act at all.
"So, what's your name, old man?" Rian asked.
"Just call me Bebegig," he answered.
"Oh, right, Kakek Bebegig, why do you want to train me?" Rian continued his question to the old man.
"Because I'm bored. And at least when I die, there will be someone to inherit my strength for the last time. I used to be a teacher, and all my students died in the Demon King's attack. And maybe you'll be my last student," Bebegig replied.
"Demon King? Is there still a Demon King?" Rian asked curiously.
"Yes, still there. He's sealed for now. Enough, go to sleep. We start training tomorrow morning," Bebegig replied, feeling his relaxing tea time was being disturbed by Rian's questions.
"Alright, Kakek." Rian went to the bed from before. The bed of dry leaves felt comfortable. He lay down and fell asleep. His sleep was restless, filled with shadows of Catty and the horror of the fight against the Troll.
The next day. Morning fog crept between the giant trees. Dew dripped slowly from the leaves, falling onto the damp earth. In the middle of the root-filled clearing, Rian stood tall, chest expanded, holding the air, as if the world could stop with just one breath.
Bebegig stood before him, his gaze calm, as if piercing his heart. "How long can you hold your breath, young man?"
Rian shrugged, trying to sound casual. "I can hold my breath for a full day."
Bebegig's eyebrows raised slightly, his voice remaining flat. "Impressive. But just holding it for a long time isn't what's most important. What you need to train is circulation: how air and mana flow, how mana regeneration can be faster. Our focus isn't how long you can hold, but how regular the flow is."
Rian sighed, then smirked.
If I can hold my breath for a whole day, why do I still need breathing exercises like someone about to give birth?
Bebegig replied flatly and continued his instructions. "Begin. Inhale for four counts, hold for four counts, exhale for four counts, then empty for four counts. Repeat without error."
Rian snorted. "Fine."
Eyes closed, he followed the breathing pattern, over and over. The air felt stable, but boredom crept in.
If this were training to be a singer, I'd have passed the audition by now.
Bebegig tapped the ground with his staff, a wordless reprimand. Rian immediately refocused.
"Now, run around that stone hill one hundred times without stopping. Control your breath. If your breathing isn't regular, you won't be able to finish one hundred laps," Bebegig commanded.
The path was filled with protruding roots and slippery moss. The ground beneath his feet was uneven, sometimes sloped and muddy. Rian groaned but kept running. His lungs burned, his legs screamed in protest, but he forced his breath to remain steady. The air felt thin and cold in his throat.
On the umpteenth lap, as his vision began to blur, the image of Catty flashed in his mind, the loyal black panther who used to accompany him. His chest tightened with a lump of longing. He closed his eyes for a moment, swallowed the pain, and turned it into fuel to keep running. Bebegig's short command, "Continue," became a whip that forged his fatigue into spirit.
"Now, push-ups, sit-ups, and squats, five hundred each without stopping. If you miss any, start over from the beginning. Keep your breath stable with every movement!" Bebegig commanded.
The strength session began with a crushing load. Rian's muscles felt like they were being torn apart. After his muscles were trembling violently from hundreds of push-ups, sit-ups, and squats, Bebegig climbed onto Rian's body. Rian was in a push-up position, both hands supporting his own body weight plus Bebegig's.
"Today's lesson: Enduring weight while keeping your mana flow stable."
This old man's body is skinny, but why is it so heavy when he's on my back? And this is really torturing me. This isn't training, it's torture.
"Kakek, why is your body so heavy? Your body is just like mine, and I'm even bigger than you?" Both his arms trembled, holding Bebegig's weight.
"Yes, because I'm adding a large rock too." A large rock, the size of Rian's body, was visible on Bebegig's lap as he sat on Rian's back.
Rian groaned with every up and down motion.
Kakek, if I die, please write the cause: 'Victim of Kakek Bebegig's crazy experiment.'
A warm touch from Bebegig's hand channeled healing magic into his damaged muscles. The magic felt warm, easing the pain for a moment, but also forcing his muscles to repair themselves and rise again.
The peak trial of the day was a deep, glisteningly calm lake. The lake water was clear but bone-chillingly cold. "Get in. You must survive underwater. Monsters will attack. This short sword is enough. Focus, control your mana, and don't panic."
Rian stared at the water's surface, a hesitant frown on his forehead.
Kakek, is this breathing practice, or am I signing up to be fish food?
Without waiting for a reply, he dived. The underwater world immediately pressed against his body. His movements felt heavy, pressure stabbed his ears, and the cold bit his skin. In the dim light, the glint of monster scales looked like shards of glass.
A school of monsters attacked him, their slashes and thrusts creating vortexes that wounded his arms. Blood spread, forming a red fog that attracted more attacks.
What kind of training is this?!
A larger creature coiled around his body, crushing his ribs. Just as his consciousness was about to fade, a fast shadow shot through the water. Bebegig. One slash, and the creature was split.
Rian was lifted to the surface, coughing violently on a rock, then said, "If I die, write on my tombstone: 'Died failing training, became fish food.'"
Bebegig stared coldly. "Foolish boy. You're still alive. Continue tomorrow."
That night, Rian lay weakly on the straw. The pain in his body slowly subsided from the healing magic he used, but the memory of nearly dying at the bottom of the lake kept replaying. He realized how little he knew about the world that had nearly claimed his life for the second time. That realization sparked an unbearable curiosity.
In the warmth of the treehouse, under the candlelight, Rian, wrapped in bandages, asked in a faint voice. "Kakek, who are the gods in this world?"
"This world, again?" he mumbled. Bebegig, who was sipping water, answered slowly. "There are five: God Hideung, keeper of hell. God Biru, controller of the sky. Goddess Bereum, punisher of souls. Goddess Hejo, protector of nature. And Goddess Bodas, guardian of the cycle. I myself don't know what cycle she means."
Rian nodded, then asked his next question. "What about races? And kingdoms?"
Thinking for a moment, Bebegig continued. "Humans, Elves, Dwarves, Beastmen, Demons. Three great kingdoms: Esbekday in the north, Lea in the west, Fulakmi in the east. There are many other kingdoms beyond those."
Rian's eyes sparkled. "What about adventurers? Are there heroes too?"
Bebegig fell silent, his eyes staring into the candle flame with a distant look, as if seeing shadows from the past. "Adventurer tiers: Warrior, Elite, Master, Grandmaster, Epic, Legend, up to Mythic. The higher the tier, the greater their influence and power."
Rian swallowed, his voice half-trembling, half-excited. "What about you, Kakek? What tier? What level?"
Bebegig was silent for a moment. He sipped his water slowly before answering in a low voice full of unspoken memories. "I am Epic, a regional hero. Level… sixty-eight."
He averted his gaze, patting Rian's shoulder gently. "That's enough for now."
So I have a local hero as a teacher. That's pretty cool. Then what training do I have to do tomorrow? Don't tell me arm wrestling with a dragon?
Rian let out a long sigh, then grinned, full of spirit. "I'm ready."
After Rian went off to bed, Bebegig walked to the window, looking out at the black sky filled with thousands of stars. "Let's see if he can carry on my wish," he mumbled softly.