One month had passed.
Spring sunlight stretched across the quiet fields beyond the town. The wind carried the scent of soil and fresh leaves, and life slowly returned to its ordinary rhythm.
And Vein was still alive.
That alone felt strange sometimes.
He stood outside the town's healing hall, flexing his right hand slowly and carefully.
His fingers moved.
Not perfectly.
Not without stiffness.
But they moved.
The bandages that once wrapped his arm from wrist to elbow were gone now. Only faint marks remained on his skin, traces of what had once been broken.
Healing magic had done its work.
The healer had been clear.
"A broken bone can be restored within a month… as long as you come regularly."
So Vein had come.
Every day.
Without fail.
Morning.
Afternoon.
Sometimes evening.
The gentle glow of healing magic had rebuilt his arm piece by piece—bone, muscle, tendon—stitched back together by steady waves of mana.
It had hurt.
A deep ache beneath the skin.
But compared to what he remembered—
it was nothing.
Vein closed his right hand, then opened it again.
Slow.
Stiff.
But steady.
"…not bad."
A faint smile appeared.
Then faded.
Because his gaze shifted—
to his other arm.
His left hand rested in a sling, wrapped in thick bandages.
Still useless.
The healer had examined it carefully, then sighed.
"This one is different."
The bones hadn't simply broken.
They had shattered.
Crushed from the inside by the force Vein had pushed through his body.
Healing magic could restore what was broken—
but it needed something to rebuild.
And his left hand…
barely had a shape left when they brought him in.
So the healer told him the truth.
"Even with regular treatment… this arm will need at least six months."
Six months.
Vein stared at the sling.
Six months of waiting.
Six months of weakness.
The thought didn't frighten him.
But it weighed on him.
Because every time he looked at that arm—
he remembered.
The frozen lake.
The monster.
The moment his body had reached its limit.
Vein exhaled slowly.
Then turned away from the healing hall.
The town stretched ahead.
Quiet.
Peaceful.
Ordinary.
But somewhere deep inside—
he knew.
Six months might be enough for his arm to heal.
But the world beyond this town
would not wait
for him to catch up.
—
The road was quiet.
Most people were working—farmers in the fields, merchants in their shops, children playing somewhere in the distance.
Vein walked slowly.
His right hand flexed again.
It still felt strange.
Like it didn't fully belong to him.
But it worked.
That was enough.
Eventually, he stopped in front of the farmhouse.
The wooden gate creaked softly in the wind.
Inside the yard—
Kael stood near the fence.
A wooden practice sword rested on his shoulder as he swung it lazily through the air.
Not training.
Just passing time.
Rosa sat on the grass nearby, watching with wide, shining eyes. Every swing earned a small gasp of admiration.
Vein stepped inside.
The gate clicked behind him.
Kael noticed immediately.
"Well."
He rested the sword on his shoulder.
"The patient finally escaped the healing hall."
Vein stopped a few steps away.
"…Kael."
His voice was calm.
But serious.
Kael tilted his head slightly.
"That sounds important."
Vein looked down at his left arm.
Then raised his gaze.
"…teach me how to use a sword."
The wind moved quietly through the yard.
Kael blinked.
"…huh?"
Vein continued.
"I don't want to fight like I did before."
His voice remained steady.
"But using my body like that…"
He lifted his left arm slightly.
"…that's basically a one-use weapon."
His gaze hardened.
"I can't protect anyone like that."
Silence followed.
Kael watched him.
Carefully.
Then—
a small smile appeared.
"…I see."
He walked toward the wooden rack near the wall, grabbed a sword—
and tossed a steel blade toward Vein.
Vein caught it with his right hand.
The weight surprised him.
Cold.
Solid.
Real.
Kael rested the wooden sword on his shoulder.
"Before lessons…"
He pointed the tip toward Vein.
"Let's spar."
Vein blinked.
"…now?"
Kael shrugged.
"Best way to see where you stand."
Vein hesitated.
Then nodded.
"…alright."
Rosa immediately ran to the side, eyes shining.
"A duel!"
Kael stepped forward, rolling his shoulder.
"Don't worry."
He lifted the wooden sword.
"I'll go easy."
Vein raised the steel blade.
His grip tightened.
One arm stiff.
One arm useless.
The gap between them was obvious.
Still—
he stepped forward.
Kael moved first.
Fast.
The wooden blade struck toward Vein's shoulder.
CLACK—
Vein barely blocked it.
The impact surged through his arm, nearly breaking his grip.
Too strong.
Kael stepped back lightly.
"Hm."
Then again.
CLACK—
Faster this time.
Vein tried to counter.
The steel blade swung toward Kael's side—
but Kael had already moved.
The wooden sword tapped Vein's wrist.
The blade almost slipped.
"Too slow."
Kael's voice was calm.
They clashed again.
And again.
Each time—
Vein barely reacted.
His breathing grew heavier.
His steps slower.
His movements predictable.
Kael stepped inside his guard.
Then—
THUD—
The wooden sword struck the back of Vein's neck.
The world went white.
Vein collapsed onto the dirt.
The steel sword slipped from his hand.
Silence filled the yard.
Rosa gasped.
"Brother Vein!"
Kael crouched slightly, looking down at him.
"…yeah."
Vein stared at the sky.
"…I lost."
Kael snorted.
"You didn't just lose."
"You got destroyed."
Vein didn't argue.
Because it was true.
The fight hadn't even lasted a minute.
He slowly sat up, brushing dirt from his clothes.
"…I'm still weak."
Kael watched him.
Then smiled.
Not mocking.
Not amused.
Interested.
"…yeah."
He rested the wooden sword on his shoulder.
"But you're interesting."
Vein blinked.
Kael continued.
"You fought a corrupted manifestation. Survived. Broke your own body doing it."
He pointed at him.
"And the first thing you ask after recovering…"
"…is training."
His smile widened slightly.
"That kind of stupidity…"
"I like it."
Vein frowned.
"…that's not a compliment."
Kael laughed.
Then turned, walking toward the rack.
"Alright."
He picked up a wooden sword—
and tossed it toward Vein.
"From today onward…"
He crossed his arms.
"I'll train you."
Vein caught the sword.
Kael's voice lowered.
But hardened.
"But understand this."
He pointed at Vein's chest.
"Training under me is hell."
Vein looked down at the sword in his hand.
Then back at Kael.
"…good."
Because somewhere inside—
he already understood.
If he stayed weak—
next time
there might not be anyone left
to save.
—
The training began at sunrise.
Every day.
Without exception.
The moment the first light touched the hills behind the farm, Kael Arden was already standing in the yard—arms crossed, silent, watching.
Always watching.
In front of him stood Vein Alteir.
A wooden sword rested in Vein's right hand. His left arm still hung useless in its sling.
Kael spoke.
"Warm up."
Vein frowned.
Kael raised five fingers.
"Push-ups. Squat jumps. Sit-ups. Pull-ups. Jump rope."
"One hundred each."
Silence settled over the yard.
Vein blinked.
"…that's insane."
Kael didn't react.
"Start."
—
Vein dropped to the ground.
Push-ups.
One.
Two.
Three.
Ten.
Twenty.
Thirty.
By fifty, his arms were already shaking.
Sweat dripped from his chin.
His breathing grew ragged.
Fifty-one.
Fifty-two.
Fifty-three—
His body gave out.
Vein rolled onto his back, gasping for air.
Kael stepped closer.
Then—
SLAP.
The sound cracked across the yard.
Vein's eyes snapped open.
"What the—?!"
"Don't sleep," Kael said calmly. "You're only halfway."
Vein groaned.
But he forced himself up.
Again.
And again.
—
The sun climbed.
Morning passed.
Then noon.
Then afternoon.
Every time Vein slowed—
"Move."
Every time he collapsed—
SLAP.
"Wake up."
By the time the warm-up ended, the sun had already begun to set.
Vein lay on the ground, completely spent.
Kael looked down at him.
"Good."
Vein stared at him weakly.
"…good?"
"You finished the warm-up."
Vein's soul nearly left his body.
"That… was the warm-up?"
Kael tossed him the wooden sword.
"Now we train."
—
The training post stood at the center of the yard.
A thick log buried deep into the earth.
Kael pointed.
"Cut it."
Vein blinked.
"With a wooden sword?"
"Until it breaks."
Vein swung.
THAK—
The log shook.
Unmoved.
"Again."
THAK—
Again.
And again.
The sound echoed across the farm.
Wood striking wood.
Hours passed.
Night fell.
Stars filled the sky.
Still—
Vein swung.
His palms tore open.
Blisters burst.
Blood mixed with sweat.
His vision blurred.
He collapsed.
Before his eyes could close—
SLAP.
"Up."
Kael stood above him.
"Again."
Vein groaned.
Then stood.
Swing.
Swing.
Swing.
Just before dawn—
CRACK.
The log split.
Vein stared at it.
Then collapsed.
This time—
Kael caught him before he hit the ground.
—
When Vein opened his eyes—
he was on the hill.
Wind brushed against his face.
He sat up slowly.
"…why am I here?"
Kael stood nearby.
"Run."
Vein blinked.
"Run where?"
Kael pointed down the slope.
"Down. Then up. Five times."
Before Vein could argue—
Kael shoved him.
Vein tumbled down the hill, dust exploding around him.
When he finally stopped—
a shadow loomed behind him.
Massive.
Familiar.
The Nightbound Beast.
Vein's face went pale.
"ARE YOU SERIOUS—?!"
The beast roared.
Then charged.
Vein ran.
Straight up the hill.
Screaming.
Behind him—
Kael walked casually beside the monster.
Completely relaxed.
—
The next training came.
A stone.
As large as Vein himself.
"Lift it."
Vein stared.
"You're insane."
"Lift it."
Two days passed.
He tried again.
And again.
On the second evening—
the rock shifted.
Just an inch.
Vein collapsed.
Kael nodded.
"Good."
—
Then came the river.
Kael pushed him straight into the current.
The water dragged Vein instantly.
The current was brutal.
With only one usable arm—
it was hell.
He was pulled downstream.
Faster.
Toward the waterfall.
Vein struggled.
Barely catching onto a rock before the drop.
He dragged himself out.
Gasping.
Kael nodded.
"Good."
—
Then the hunt.
A small wild boar.
Kael pointed.
"Catch it."
Vein smirked.
"That's easy."
Five minutes later—
the boar sprinted past him like a storm.
Vein slipped.
Face-first.
Straight into dung.
Kael laughed.
For the first time.
—
The final training waited beneath the waterfall.
Water crashed down like falling stone.
Kael pointed.
"Sit."
Vein stepped under it.
The pressure crushed his shoulders instantly.
He collapsed.
"I can't—"
Kael tied a rope around him.
Fixing him in place beneath the torrent.
"Stay."
The water hammered his body.
Pain exploded through him.
He couldn't breathe.
His vision darkened.
Through the roar—
Kael's voice reached him.
"Listen."
"Feel the mana."
"Don't chase it."
"Don't force it."
"Just listen."
At first—
there was nothing.
Only pain.
Only water.
Only exhaustion.
But slowly—
something moved.
Mana.
Flowing through the river.
Through the rocks.
Through the air.
Through him.
And for the first time—
Vein stopped fighting it.
He listened.
High above the waterfall—
someone watched.
A figure stood hidden among the trees.
A long cloak moved softly in the wind.
Their gaze remained fixed on Vein.
Watching him train.
Watching him endure.
Watching him change.
Then—
the figure disappeared into the forest.
Without a sound.
—
Days passed.
Then weeks.
Then months.
Spring deepened.
Grass grew taller.
The river grew warmer.
And before Vein realized it—
three months had passed.
Through pain.
Through exhaustion.
Through endless repetition.
Kael never left his side.
Watching.
Correcting.
Dragging him back up whenever he fell.
And somewhere in those three months—
the weak boy who had survived the hill
began to fade.
In his place—
something stronger
was being forged.