[ Infirmary ]
At that moment, Demian was standing in front of the infirmary door, staring at it. For an instant, he was about to go in, but when he opened the door just a little, he saw that Alan was crying. So he didn't enter.
What should I do? Is he like this because he lost the fight? Demian wondered.
He was deeply conflicted, unsure of what to do to cheer Alan up. He had never tried to comfort someone before.
Right, standing here in front of the door won't solve anything. Enough hesitating.
Demian placed his hand on the door and opened it quickly.
Alan, who was sitting on the bed, flinched and tried to wipe away the tear streaks running down his face, but before he could do so, Demian spoke quickly and loudly:
"Crying because you lost isn't something to be ashamed of. In your case, you fought really well. You were very close to winning, so there's no need to be sad. You did the best you could, Alan!" Demian declared, trying to make his point clear.
Silence was the only response Demian received. Alan was staring at him with a surprised expression.
Was what I said not enough? Demian thought, scratching his head.
Ha!
A laugh escaped from Alan's mouth. He then started laughing uncontrollably, making Demian look at him in surprise.
"Why are you laughing?" Demian asked, confused.
"You thought I was crying because of the fight?" Alan said.
"And you weren't?" Demian asked.
"No. It was for another reason. I just had a bad dream, you know," Alan replied.
Realizing his mistake, Demian turned his face to the side and spoke quickly, trying to brush it off. "Good then. At least it's not that." Even so, it was easy to notice a faint red tint of embarrassment on his face.
Honestly, I tried to shout something to cheer him up, and in the end he wasn't even bothered by losing the fight, Demian thought.
Cough.
Trying to change the subject, Demian approached Alan's bed, pulled up a chair, and sat down.
"How are you feeling, Alan?" Demian asked.
Alan waved his arm and said, "I think I'm already fine, which is strange, actually. I remember that during that last blow, my fist felt like it broke."
"Really? That's strange. When I brought you here, you didn't seem badly injured, just exhausted."
"Can mana help with the body's recovery, Demian?"
"A little, but not to the point of healing broken bones that fast," Demian replied.
Then maybe I just thought my fist broke because of the impact, Alan thought as he looked at his fist, which seemed perfectly intact.
"Alright. Since your body seems fine physically, what about internally? How do you feel after managing to use mana for the first time, Alan?"
"Yes, that's what I wanted to talk to you about." Alan suddenly became so excited that he almost fell off the bed.
"Hey, calm down. You don't need to get that excited."
"Sorry." Alan calmed himself and sat on the bed with his legs crossed. "But look at this—my body is overflowing with mana." Alan began releasing a small amount of mana throughout his body.
"Yes, I can see that." Demian's eyes shone with a pale blue light as he observed the large amount of mana surrounding Alan.
His mana is almost as great as mine—and mine is already far above the average of a normal mage, Demian thought.
"So, Alan, can you use that mana normally now?"
Alan hesitated for a moment, looking at his own hands as the faint glow of mana around his body began to fade.
"…I think so," he said. "It's not like before. Before, I could only feel it. Now it's as if it obeys me… but only a little."
Demian leaned forward in his chair.
"Explain."
"When I focus, I can make the mana flow," Alan continued. "Strengthening my body, just like you taught me. But if I try to do anything beyond that… it slips away. It's like trying to hold water in my hands."
Demian nodded slowly.
"That's normal. You forced your first real activation during the fight. Your body and mind haven't fully adapted yet."
"So I'm not a failure?" Alan asked, half joking, half serious.
"No," Demian replied immediately. "In fact, what you did was abnormal… in a good way. Most people take much longer just to properly learn how to strengthen their bodies. You did it under pressure, with barely any training."
Alan scratched his cheek, a little embarrassed.
"Still, Goliath was much stronger than me."
"Physically? Yes," Demian agreed. "But you made him cautious. That alone says a lot."
Alan fell silent for a few seconds, then clenched his fist.
"If I hadn't run out of mana… I think I could've kept fighting."
Demian's expression grew serious.
"That's exactly the problem. You spent your mana too quickly."
"So I need more mana?"
"No," Demian corrected him. "You need more control. Your total amount is already high. What you lack is efficiency."
Alan blinked.
"Efficiency?"
"Using only what's necessary," Demian explained. "Not flooding your body with mana every time. Think of mana like breathing. If you panic and breathe too fast, you'll pass out… even though there's plenty of air."
"…That actually makes sense," Alan said.
Demian stood up and crossed his arms.
"From now on, that will be your focus: control and conservation. If you don't fix this, you'll always lose to exhaustion."
Alan lifted his gaze, determination replacing the fatigue in his eyes.
"Then teach me. I don't want to lose like that again."
Demian let out a small smile.
"Good. Once you can truly control your mana, we can move on to the next step."
"Next step?" Alan asked.
Demian turned toward the infirmary door.
"Finding out what kind of magic you really have."
Alan's eyes widened slightly.
"Really?" Alan asked.
"Yes, but for now, just rest," Demian said, and then left the infirmary, leaving Alan alone as he began to smile broadly.
Outside, Demian could hear a joyful shout from Alan.
"He's really an energetic person," Demian said as he headed back to his room.
...
Over the following two weeks, Alan and Demian entered an intense yet controlled training routine.
During the first few days, the focus was entirely on mana control. Demian did not allow Alan to strengthen his entire body at once. Instead, he made him concentrate small amounts of mana in specific parts of his body—first in his hands, then his arms, legs, and finally his torso. Alan failed many times, letting the mana slip away or overusing it, but little by little he began to understand the correct "flow."
After the first week, Alan was already able to maintain body enhancement for longer periods without exhausting himself. His mana consumption decreased drastically, and he stopped feeling the immediate fatigue that used to make him pass out. Demian then increased the difficulty, making Alan move, run, and dodge while keeping his mana active, forcing him to control his breathing and concentration at the same time.
In the second week, Demian introduced more dangerous exercises. Alan had to react to simulated attacks, using mana only at the moment of impact to defend or evade, instead of keeping it active all the time. At first, he mistimed it and took quite a few hits, but he quickly began to find the exact timing, conserving energy.
In addition, Demian began having Alan meditate daily, trying to sense mana not only inside his body, but also around him. At times, Alan swore he felt something different within his body, but whenever he tried to force that sensation, his concentration would vanish.
By the end of the two weeks, Alan still could not use magic properly, but his progress was evident. He could strengthen his body with precision, keep his mana stable for long periods, and above all, he no longer panicked in battle.
Watching everything in silence, Demian reached a clear conclusion:
Alan was getting closer and closer to being able to use his magic.
...
[Demian's room]
At that moment, Demian was alone in his room, lying on his bed. The room was dimly lit; there was only a single candle burning on the wall, and it was nearly burned out.
Demian stared at the candle as he thought.
It's been two weeks since I arrived in this place. I could even say I've gotten used to it… but I can't forget my objective. I need to eliminate everyone associated with the person who killed my sister.
Of course, that will require a thorough investigation. I can't just go around killing people simply because they're connected to my target. Before killing them, I need to know whether they're truly bad people or not.
Mira is a good example of this. She doesn't seem like a bad person, but it's likely she would try to stop me from leaving this place. I don't want to have to fight her… but I'll do whatever it takes to fulfill my objective. This is all for my sister.
Demian then stood up from the bed and sat on its edge, speaking aloud:
"Then it's time to begin the plan to escape the coliseum."