《Almighty One》 The Gamer鈥檚 Rebirth Shujin was a hardcore gamer, a relentless grinder who never stopped until he reached the peak. Rank, skill, and dominance were everything to him, pushing his body to its absolute limit. Feared and respected in the competitive gaming scene, he was a legend in countless tournaments. From underground LAN events to the biggest esports championships, Shujin crushed opponents with unparalleled precision and strategy. His mind was sharp, his reflexes honed to perfection¡ªbut his body paid the price. Outside of tournaments, Shujin lived in solitude. His world revolved around the glow of his monitor, the rhythmic clicking of his keyboard, and the endless pursuit of mastery. He rarely left his apartment, spoke only when necessary, and ignored everything except the game. To him, the virtual world was his true reality¡ªthe only place where he felt alive. His rival, a player known as Vortex, was the only one who had ever challenged him on equal footing, their matches becoming legendary duels that captivated audiences worldwide. But dedication came with a cost. His body weakened from the lack of sunlight, his muscles atrophied from sitting too long, and his heart bore the weight of exhaustion. The finals of the World Esports Championship had arrived. The arena was packed, millions watching from their screens, all eyes on him and his opponent¡ªVortex. The match was brutal, a grueling five-round battle that tested every ounce of skill and endurance. His fingers danced across the keyboard, his focus razor-sharp. He could feel the pressure in his veins, the adrenaline pumping, the thrill of dominance. Then, the final moment came¡ªa perfectly timed counter, a calculated strike. The victory screen flashed. He had won. He was the undisputed champion. Yet, as he lifted the trophy, a sudden pain gripped his chest. His vision swam, his breath came in shallow gasps. He staggered, the cheers fading into a muffled haze. Darkness closed in as he fell. There was nothing. A weightless abyss swallowed him whole. No sound, no sensation¡ªjust endless black stretching in all directions. He felt detached, as though his very existence was unraveling, his memories drifting like specks of dust in an infinite void. He tried to move, but there was no body to command, no hands to reach out, no voice to cry out with. Was this death? Or was he simply¡­ erased? A whisper slithered through the darkness, though it carried no words. It was neither friend nor foe, merely an observer. Cold. Unfathomable. Something beyond human comprehension watched him, its presence like a chasm that stretched forever. Shujin should have felt fear¡ªbut instead, he felt expectation, as if something was waiting. Then, a sound. A deep, resonant gong thundered through the void, shattering the silence like a crack of lightning. It rippled across the abyss, sending waves through the nothingness. He felt it pulse through him, pulling him downward¡ªno, forward¡ªtoward something unknown. A second gong followed. A pressure wrapped around him, like unseen hands molding his form from formless shadow. A third. Light exploded, searing into his senses. He gasped¡ªor would have, had he lungs to breathe. The void collapsed, and then¡ª He was reborn. Crying as an infant, he found himself abandoned in a small, lawless village¡ªa den of outlaws and criminals. A passing traveler, unwilling to care for him, left him on the doorstep of a distant church, far from the corruption of his birthplace. The church¡¯s sole guardian, an old priest, took him in and named him Lucian. Lucian¡¯s earliest memories were of the warm glow of candlelight flickering against the wooden beams, the soothing hum of prayers, and the scent of parchment and incense. Father Aldric, a man of wisdom and kindness, became his only family. He taught Lucian about faith, morality, and survival. But even as a child, Lucian felt different. His body moved with unnatural precision, his reactions sharper than they should be. During chores, his hands moved efficiently, anticipating tasks before he even fully processed them. When he ran, his footwork adjusted mid-step as if dodging invisible attacks. It was instinct¡ªingrained muscle memory that he couldn''t explain. Lucian¡¯s childhood was one of discipline and quiet wonder. He spent his days tending the church¡¯s garden, learning scripture, and helping Father Aldric repair old furniture and mend torn robes. He enjoyed the routine, yet he couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that his body longed for something more. Sometimes, when no one was looking, he would move through strange motions¡ªstances, dodges, counterattacks¡ªmovements that felt as natural as breathing, yet entirely foreign. Father Aldric took notice. ¡°You move with the grace of a trained warrior,¡± he remarked one evening as Lucian unknowingly executed a perfect defensive stance while balancing a bucket of water. ¡°I don¡¯t know how I do it,¡± Lucian admitted. ¡°It just feels¡­ right.¡± Aldric studied him with quiet contemplation. ¡°Then it is best we guide that instinct. A sharp blade without control can only bring harm.¡± ------------------------------------------ On his tenth birthday, Aldric presented Lucian with a wooden training sword. The modest chamber where they stood was dimly lit by flickering candlelight, the scent of old parchment and burning wax filling the air. The church, a humble structure of weathered stone and creaking wooden beams, stood alone atop a gentle hill, a sanctuary removed from the village that lay further down the winding path. The village¡ªif it could even be called that¡ªwas a den of thieves, criminals, and desperate souls scraping by in a world that had long abandoned them. Law was a distant rumor, and safety was a privilege only the strong could afford. Despite this, Aldric still spoke of the church as a refuge, a beacon of hope where even the wicked could seek redemption. Stolen novel; please report. ¡°You may not live a life of violence, my boy,¡± the old priest said, his voice heavy with the weight of experience, ¡°but you must know how to defend yourself.¡± Lucian¡¯s small hands wrapped around the hilt, the weight feeling both foreign and familiar. His fingers adjusted instinctively, finding a balanced grip without thought. He glanced up at Aldric, curiosity and excitement flickering in his deep-set eyes. ¡°But why, Father? If the church stands for peace, why must I learn to fight?¡± Aldric sighed, his wise old eyes filled with quiet sadness. ¡°Because the world is not kind, Lucian. Not all men respect peace. Some seek to take, to hurt, to destroy. And when that time comes, you must stand¡ªnot to seek violence, but to protect what is precious.¡± His gaze drifted to the church¡¯s wooden cross, worn and cracked from years of silent prayer. ¡°This place, this village¡ªit is fragile. We must be its guardians.¡± Training began in earnest. Aldric started with the basics, guiding Lucian through simple stances and strikes. ¡°A warrior¡¯s greatest strength is not his blade, but his mind. A reckless swordsman is already dead.¡± Lucian followed every instruction, but something was off. His footwork was precise, his reaction time unnaturally fast, but his body lagged behind. When Aldric corrected his posture, Lucian instinctively readjusted before the priest could even finish speaking. His strikes were fluid and well-placed, yet weak, lacking the strength to carry real force. He would react to an incoming strike before it fully formed, shifting his stance with uncanny speed, but his frail limbs struggled to keep up. He could see the openings, predict the movements, yet his body was sluggish, unfamiliar. In his past life, he had spent countless hours mastering combat in virtual worlds, refining his instincts through digital battles. But none of that had prepared him for the reality of a physical body. His muscles burned with exertion, his breath grew ragged far too quickly. The motions were there¡ªperfect in his mind¡ªbut his body refused to obey them fully. Aldric watched, his grip on his staff tightening. This was not normal. He had trained many before, guided lost souls into warriors, but he had never seen a child move like this. It was not the result of practice¡ªit was something ingrained, something deeper. Lucian was quick, his instincts razor-sharp, but his frail frame couldn¡¯t yet harness the full potential of his skills. There was ability within him, but it was trapped, restrained by his physical limitations. Yet with every precise movement, a conflict raged within Lucian. Was this truly a part of him, or was it something foreign that had latched onto his soul? The church had taught him restraint, patience, and kindness. And yet, each strike of his wooden sword felt exhilarating, natural¡ªlike something buried in his very being was awakening. Aldric saw it too. And it worried him. ----------------------------------------------------- The church lay beneath a sky smothered in heavy clouds, the moon a mere sliver of pale light struggling to break through. The evening mist curled between the wooden homes, creeping over cobblestone paths and clinging to the chapel¡¯s stone walls. It was the kind of night that made even the bravest souls uneasy, where the wind carried whispers that weren¡¯t truly there, and shadows stretched just a little too long. Through the fog, shadows emerged¡ªfive ragged figures, their forms shifting as they advanced. Their movements were deliberate, yet unnervingly quiet. Torn cloaks and hollow eyes marked them as desperate men, their faces lined with hunger and greed. They carried the scent of sweat and damp earth, their breaths shallow as they whispered among themselves. The village, now bathed in an eerie silence, seemed to hold its breath. That night, Lucian couldn¡¯t sleep. The air was too still, too heavy. A single candle flickered on the wooden nightstand beside his bed, its flame wavering as if disturbed by an unseen force. He could feel something creeping in the air, a tension that wrapped around his chest like a vice. His fingers twitched, his body alert despite his exhaustion. Something was wrong. Then¡ªa crash shattered the silence. The sound of splintering wood echoed through the church. Lucian shot up, heart pounding. He rushed to the doorway, his breath shallow. Shadows loomed in the dim candlelight, figures moving like wraiths in the darkness. Father Aldric stood firm before them, gripping his walking staff. His old eyes, usually filled with warmth, were now hard as steel. "This is a house of peace," he warned. "Take what you need and leave." The leader of the group, a wiry man with sunken cheeks and a jagged scar running down his jaw, chuckled darkly. "We¡¯ll take everything, old man." Lucian¡¯s hands clenched into fists. The air was thick with unspoken violence, a promise of what was to come. He felt the pull again¡ªthe instinct, the call to move before thinking. But this time, he fought against it. He wanted to see. To understand. The thieves advanced, spreading out like a pack of wolves cornering their prey. One reached for the silver candle stand on the altar. Another edged closer to Father Aldric. Lucian swallowed. He wanted to fight, to stand beside the man who had raised him. His body screamed at him to move. He tightened his grip on the wooden training sword at his side and stepped forward. Then, Father Aldric moved. The old priest became a blur. With a single, fluid motion, his staff arced through the air, striking the closest thief in the temple. The man crumpled instantly. Without pausing, Aldric twisted his grip and drove the base of the staff into another attacker¡¯s stomach, sending him sprawling. The remaining thieves hesitated, eyes wide with disbelief. Lucian, despite the awe gripping him, reacted instantly. He darted toward a thief, his movements swift and precise. He sidestepped a clumsy swing, his wooden blade slicing through the air with calculated efficiency. His strike landed cleanly against the thief¡¯s ribs¡ªbut it did nothing. The thief barely flinched. Lucian gritted his teeth. He moved with purpose, his footwork measured, his body fluid, but he lacked the strength to make an impact. He struck again, aiming for a pressure point at the shoulder, yet his opponent simply absorbed the blow and retaliated with a brutal shove. Lucian hit the ground hard, his breath leaving him in a sharp gasp. Frustration flared in his chest. His instincts were right, his movements perfect¡ªbut his body was still too weak. Aldric¡¯s staff snapped out once more, cracking against the thief¡¯s ribs before he could strike Lucian. The man stumbled away, clutching his side in pain. The fight lasted no more than a minute, but to Lucian, it felt like an eternity. When the last of the thieves groaned on the ground, Aldric turned his gaze toward their leader, still clutching his side in pain. "Leave now, and never return." The thieves scrambled to their feet and disappeared into the night, their figures swallowed by the fog. Lucian lay on the cold stone floor, panting. He had reacted perfectly, read his opponent¡¯s movements flawlessly¡ªbut it wasn¡¯t enough. His body had failed him. Father Aldric extended a hand, pulling him to his feet. "You have skill, Lucian. Your movements are sharp, your instincts honed. But raw instinct and precision are not enough. Strength must follow. We will begin training properly." Lucian swallowed his pride and nodded. That night, he realized something¡ªhe was not strong enough yet. He had won nothing. He needed to build his body, to forge the strength to match his technique. One day, he would be ready. As Lucian steadied himself, Father Aldric¡¯s expression softened slightly, though his tone remained firm. "You fought well, but you must understand your limits. Control without strength is as futile as strength without control. You have the foundation. Now, we build on it." Lucian¡¯s breath caught. He had expected only disappointment, but instead, he felt something else¡ªacknowledgment. His fists clenched in determination. He would train harder. He would grow stronger. And one day, he wouldn¡¯t need to rely on Aldric to protect their home. Father Aldric nodded, as if seeing the fire in Lucian¡¯s eyes. "Rest now. Tomorrow, your real training begins." The Warrior鈥檚 Awakening Lucian stood at the center of the dimly lit chapel, the wooden training sword in his hands feeling almost weightless. His breath was steady, his stance firm¡ªyet when Aldric observed him, there was only quiet disapproval in his gaze. ¡°You are quick, sharp. Your instincts are beyond natural,¡± the priest said, pacing around him. ¡°But you are like a house built on sand¡ªunstable, unreliable. Power without a foundation is nothing.¡± Lucian furrowed his brow. ¡°Then what must I do?¡± Aldric tapped his staff against the stone floor, his voice steady but unwavering. ¡°You must strengthen your Ascen.¡± Lucian frowned. ¡°Ascen?¡± ¡°The core of all strength,¡± Aldric explained. ¡°It is not just muscle, not just balance¡ªit is the center of your existence, the anchor that allows mind and body to move as one. Without control over your Ascen, your instincts will betray you. Your speed will falter. Your strength will never reach its full potential.¡± Lucian clenched his fists. He understood the problem. He could react, he could move, but it was hollow¡ªhis body was too weak to follow through with what his instincts demanded. Aldric continued. ¡°Every warrior, every fighter, must build their Ascen from the ground up. If you cannot control it, you will never reach beyond the limits of a mere human.¡± Lucian felt a chill crawl down his spine. ¡°Beyond?¡± Aldric paused. His grip on the staff tightened slightly. ¡°It is not yet time for you to learn what lies deeper.¡± His voice lowered. ¡°But within every Ascen¡­ lies something more. Something that even the greatest warriors fear.¡± Lucian¡¯s breath hitched. He could sense it¡ªthis was something important. Something dangerous. Aldric¡¯s eyes locked onto his. ¡°They are called Relicarns. And until you have mastered yourself, you have no right to seek them.¡± Lucian opened his mouth to press further, but Aldric cut him off. ¡°For now, your concern is simple: forge your Ascen. Build your body. Until you can stand firm, control your breath, and endure the weight of battle, you are nothing more than a shadow of a warrior.¡± Lucian took a deep breath and nodded. He did not fully understand, but he knew what he had to do. His journey began here. Not with a sword, not with a fight¡ªbut with his own body. Aldric wasted no time. Lucian¡¯s days became filled with relentless conditioning¡ªgrueling stances, balance drills, endurance training. At first, his body failed him. His legs burned, his arms trembled, his lungs screamed for relief. He collapsed, over and over. But each time, he rose again. And as the days passed, something began to change. His body adapted. His breathing grew steadier. His strikes carried more force. His movements no longer fought against his instincts¡ªthey flowed with them. The foundation of his Ascen was being forged. And though the path ahead was long, one thing was certain: One day, he would awaken what lay within. ------------------------------------------ Lucian groaned as he collapsed onto the stone floor of the chapel¡¯s courtyard, his limbs burning from exhaustion. Above him, Father Aldric loomed, grinning like a mischievous grandfather who had just played a prank. ¡°Ah, to be young again! Well, not too young. I much prefer watching you suffer.¡± The old priest chuckled as he tapped Lucian¡¯s ribs lightly with his staff. ¡°Come on, up you go! The ground isn¡¯t as comfortable as a bed, no matter how much you pretend.¡± Lucian groaned again. ¡°I can¡¯t move.¡± ¡°Of course, you can! Your body just hates you right now.¡± Aldric gave him a hearty pat on the back, which did nothing to help. ¡°That means we¡¯re making progress!¡± Lucian rolled onto his side, glaring at the priest. ¡°Progress in what? Dying?¡± Aldric laughed, stroking his beard. ¡°No, no, dying is easy. We¡¯re making you strong. And to do that, we need to forge your Ascen.¡± Lucian frowned, sitting up with difficulty. ¡°Ascen¡­ you¡¯ve mentioned that before.¡± ¡°Because it¡¯s important!¡± Aldric tapped his chest. ¡°It¡¯s the core of all strength. It holds you together, lets you move with true power, keeps you from tripping over your own feet like a newborn deer.¡± Lucian crossed his arms. ¡°And how do I strengthen it?¡± Aldric beamed. ¡°I was hoping you¡¯d ask that! Now, let¡¯s get back to work." Lucian stood in a deep horse stance, his thighs burning as Aldric piled stone slabs onto his shoulders. First one, then two, then three. His muscles screamed, but he gritted his teeth, sweat pouring down his face. ¡°Breathe, boy! If you let pain control you, your Ascen will never grow. Pain is fuel. Learn to burn it!¡± The weight bore down on him, his knees threatening to buckle. But he forced his breath to slow, reaching inward. He could feel it¡ªhis Ascen flickering inside him, feeding off the pressure. Minutes passed. Then an hour. Lucian''s body trembled violently. And still, he did not fall. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Night fell, and Aldric led Lucian to a lake near the church. The old priest grinned. ¡°Time for my favorite game: Drown or Adapt.¡± Lucian blinked. ¡°What?¡± SPLASH! Aldric shoved him into the icy water. Lucian thrashed, the cold stealing his breath. He tried to surface, but¡ª ¡°Nope!¡± Aldric¡¯s staff smacked him back under. Panic surged through him. He fought to breathe, but the more he struggled, the weaker he became. Aldric¡¯s muffled voice reached him from above. ¡°The more you resist, the faster you¡¯ll sink! Your Ascen is the same¡ªit flows with your body, not against it! Find the rhythm!¡± Lucian stopped struggling. He listened to the water. And then, he breathed. Not through his lungs, but through his body. His Ascen hummed, adapting to the stress. His heart slowed. His panic faded. When he finally surfaced, gasping, Aldric clapped. ¡°Ah-ha! You didn¡¯t drown! Marvelous! Now, do it again.¡± Lucian groaned. At dawn, Lucian stood blindfolded on a fallen log, balancing over a rushing river. The challenge? Avoid Aldric¡¯s attacks. ¡°Feel your surroundings,¡± Aldric coached, his wooden staff tapping the log. ¡°If you only rely on your eyes, you¡¯re already dead.¡± Lucian¡¯s heart pounded. The log was slick, the water below waiting to swallow him. Whoosh! The staff swung¡ªLucian dodged too late. A painful smack sent him tumbling into the river. Aldric sighed as Lucian dragged himself out. ¡°Disgraceful! Again!¡± Lucian climbed back up. Whack! Into the river. Again. Whack! Again. Hours passed. Lucian stood on the log, soaking wet, bruised, exhausted. But something was different. He felt it before it happened. The shift in the air. The slight change in pressure. The staff swung. Lucian moved. Not just dodging¡ªflowing. The attack missed. Aldric chuckled. ¡°Ahhh. There it is.¡± Lucian¡¯s chest rose and fell. He was beginning to understand. But there was still one final test. A duel ------------------------------------------ Lucian wiped the sweat from his brow, gripping the wooden training sword in his hands. His muscles ached from days of relentless conditioning, but tonight was different. Father Aldric stood before him, rolling his shoulders as he held his own wooden sword with casual ease. His usual jovial expression remained, but there was something sharper in his gaze now¡ªan appraising weight, as though he were truly measuring Lucian for the first time. ¡°Well then,¡± Aldric said, stretching as if he had just woken from a nap. ¡°You¡¯ve been learning control, endurance, and movement. But none of it means anything unless you can apply it in battle.¡± He grinned. ¡°So! Let¡¯s see if you can land a hit on me.¡± Lucian tightened his grip. ¡°Do I just attack you?¡± Aldric nodded sagely. ¡°Yes! And don¡¯t hold back. A strike without conviction is no strike at all.¡± Lucian hesitated. Aldric was old, after all. What if he¡ª WHACK! Pain exploded in Lucian¡¯s ribs before he even saw the strike coming. He stumbled back, gasping. ¡°What the¡ª!?¡± Aldric smiled. ¡°Oh? Were you thinking about something? I love when my students do that¡ªit makes hitting them so much easier.¡± Lucian gritted his teeth. ¡°I wasn¡¯t ready!¡± Aldric beamed. ¡°Then get ready faster.¡± Lucian charged. He swung high¡ªAldric sidestepped. He struck low¡ªAldric barely moved, letting the sword pass inches from his robe. Lucian tried a quick jab¡ªAldric knocked his wrist aside and ruffled his hair in the same motion. Lucian staggered back, panting. His heart pounded, not just from exertion, but from something else¡ªsomething strange. His instincts were screaming at him, urging him to move, shift, react. And the moment Aldric shifted his weight¡ª Lucian¡¯s body moved on its own. He barely processed the action before he was already dodging. Aldric¡¯s sword flickered through the air where his ribs had been, missing by the width of a breath. Aldric¡¯s eyebrows lifted slightly. Lucian seized the moment. He feinted left, pivoted on his heel, and struck from below. Aldric actually had to lift his sword to deflect. Lucian¡¯s pulse quickened¡ªhe had forced a reaction! He pressed forward, his attacks growing sharper, more precise. His body moved instinctively, his strikes landing closer and closer. Aldric was still parrying with ease, but he wasn¡¯t playing with Lucian anymore. He was measuring him. Then, Lucian went for one last powerful swing¡ª And Aldric vanished. No, not vanished. Moved. Too fast. Before Lucian could react¡ª THWACK! Lucian crashed onto his back, staring at the sky, his ribs stinging. Aldric loomed over him, resting his sword against his shoulder. He let out a small chuckle, his gaze flickering with something other than amusement. ¡°Well, well,¡± he mused. ¡°That was unexpected.¡± Lucian coughed. ¡°You¡¯re¡­ fast.¡± Aldric laughed. ¡°Fast? Oh, my boy, this is nothing. I¡¯m getting old! But you¡­¡± His smile lingered, but his eyes sharpened. ¡°You see things. You react faster than most trained warriors. If you had even a little real combat experience, you¡¯d be dangerous.¡± Lucian sat up, rubbing his ribs. ¡°So¡­ what am I missing?¡± Aldric offered him a hand, pulling him to his feet. ¡°Instinct is a blade, but experience sharpens it. You lack the weight behind your movements¡ªthe resolve that comes only from battle. The body follows the mind, and right now, yours hesitates when it truly matters.¡± He patted Lucian¡¯s shoulder. ¡°But that can be fixed.¡± Lucian exhaled slowly. He hadn¡¯t expected praise, but there was no mistaking the approval in Aldric¡¯s tone. Aldric grinned. ¡°Now, again! You need to land a proper hit before the night is over.¡± Lucian groaned but lifted his sword. ¡°Fine. But this time, I will hit you.¡± Aldric¡¯s eyes twinkled. ¡°Oh, I¡¯d love to see you try.¡± The duel continued. The master would not go easy, and the student would not back down. Lucian suffered. He collapsed in the grass, gasping for air. Aldric loomed over him, hands on his hips. ¡°You could give up,¡± he said, stroking his beard. ¡°There¡¯s always a life of baking. Maybe fishing? Oh! You¡¯d make an excellent cabbage farmer!¡± Lucian groaned. ¡°I hate you.¡± ¡°Good! That means I¡¯m doing my job!¡± Aldric cackled. Lucian glared up at him. ¡°You can¡¯t be this strong just from training like this. Who were you before?¡± Aldric smiled, eyes twinkling. ¡°Ah, now that is a dangerous question.¡± Lucian narrowed his eyes. ¡°So? What¡¯s the answer?¡± Aldric stroked his beard, pretending to think. ¡°Well, I was probably a legendary warrior. Maybe a prince? Or a famous chef? Hard to say. My memory is terrible at my age.¡± Lucian groaned, sitting up. ¡°That¡¯s not an answer.¡± Aldric winked. ¡°It¡¯s the only one you¡¯re getting.¡± Lucian sighed but let it go. If Aldric didn¡¯t want to talk, there was no forcing him. ------------------------------------------ At dawn Aldric led Lucian to a waterfall near the church. The water roared down violently, the mist cool against their skin. Lucian stared at it warily. ¡°You¡¯re going to make me sit under that, aren¡¯t you?¡± Aldric beamed. ¡°Oh, you¡¯re catching on fast!¡± Lucian sighed. ¡°Is it safe?¡± ¡°Absolutely not,¡± Aldric said cheerfully, clapping a hand on his shoulder. ¡°But that¡¯s the fun part.¡± Lucian gave him a look before wading into the water. The moment he sat beneath the falls, the weight slammed into him like a hammer. His body screamed in protest. ¡°Breathe, Lucian!¡± Aldric called from the shore. ¡°If you pass out, I¡¯ll pull you out! Probably!¡± Lucian gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. It was impossible. The noise, the force¡ªit drowned out everything. But slowly, slowly, his thoughts calmed. He could hear the wind shift through the trees. The rustling of leaves. The chirp of a distant bird. And then¡ªhe felt it. A flicker inside him. A warmth. His Ascen. The moment was fleeting, but real. Suddenly, Aldric was there, grinning wide. ¡°Ah-ha! There it is! A baby Ascen, all fresh and new! Congratulations!¡± Lucian met his gaze, heart pounding. ¡°So¡­ what now?¡± Aldric clapped his hands together. ¡°Now we make it bigger! Stronger! More stable! And then¡­ then, you¡¯ll really start learning how to fight.¡± Lucian smirked, his exhaustion forgotten. "Let¡¯s do it."