Morning light filtered through the thin curtains of the small room Ren shared with his father. It wasn't a luxurious place—just a clean bed, a wooden table, and a faint smell of old wood—but Ren liked it. It felt… stable.
He stretched, arms above his head, joints popping softly.
"Ow… still sore," he muttered, rubbing his shoulders.
Yesterday's training had pushed him harder than he expected. His body was healing fast, but fatigue didn't vanish just because mana did.
Still, he smiled.
Today felt different.
He hopped off the bed, washed his face, and tied his short hair back clumsily. Looking at his reflection, he puffed his cheeks.
"Alright… today I won't fall over every five minutes."
That was the goal.
Morning – Sword Before Everything
Ren headed to a quiet clearing near the forest edge, wooden sword in hand. The grass was damp with dew, and the air smelled fresh.
He took a stance.
Not perfect. Not fancy.
Just the one his body remembered.
"Fury Slash…" he whispered.
The first swing was terrible.
The flame coating the blade flickered unevenly, sputtering out halfway through the motion. Ren stumbled forward and barely caught himself.
"…That was bad."
He scratched his head, embarrassed even though no one was watching.
Instead of forcing power, he slowed down.
Again.
This time, he focused on how the fire wrapped around the blade. When he rushed, it burned wildly. When he steadied his breathing, the flame followed the edge naturally.
Slash.
The air hissed.
Ren's eyes widened.
"Oh… that felt better."
Not stronger—just cleaner.
He repeated the motion again and again. Each time, he paid attention to small things: his wrist angle, the weight shift in his legs, how much mana leaked when he got excited.
By the time sweat soaked his shirt, the flames stayed stable.
Then came the second move.
A modified downward strike he had built from what he already knew—no name yet, just something that felt right.
The first few tries shook his arms numb.
"Too heavy… too heavy…"
He adjusted. Shortened the arc. Let gravity help instead of fighting it.
By the end of the morning, his arms trembled.
Ren dropped onto the grass, breathing hard.
"…Okay. Break time."
He lay there staring at the sky, counting clouds until his breathing slowed.
One hour later, he stood again.
Late Morning – Monsters Don't Wait
By 11 a.m., Ren was back in the forest.
This time, he wasn't alone with his thoughts.
A sharp screech cut through the trees.
"Sonic bats…"
He swallowed.
Level F—but annoying.
The first bat darted forward faster than he expected. Ren swung instinctively and missed completely.
The sound blast hit him in the chest.
"Gah—!"
He rolled, heart pounding.
"Fast… they're really fast!"
Instead of chasing, Ren stopped moving.
The next bat circled.
Ren waited.
When it lunged again, he stepped sideways instead of forward.
His blade clipped the wing.
The bat crashed into a tree.
Ren blinked.
"…So that works?"
By the third bat, he wasn't swinging wildly anymore. His movements became lighter, quicker, reacting instead of forcing.
By the time the last one fell, Ren was smiling despite the scratches.
"That was kinda fun…"
He didn't get long to enjoy it.
The ground shook.
Apes.
Level E.
"Why today of all days…"
The first ape charged like a boulder. Ren barely jumped aside as its fist shattered a tree trunk.
"That's… not okay."
He remembered the bat fight.
Agility forced me to move better.
The ape forced something else.
Power.
Ren inhaled deeply.
When he struck, he didn't swing repeatedly. He waited.
One step.
Fury Slash—compressed.
The fire exploded on impact.
The ape howled, staggered, and Ren retreated instantly.
Again and again, hit-and-run. No flashy moves. No sky techniques.
By the end, his arms burned, legs shaking.
But he was standing.
"…I didn't die."
That felt like a win.
Afternoon – Back to the City
By 3 p.m., Ren entered the guild.
The smell of metal and parchment greeted him. He exchanged monster materials quietly, listening to others brag loudly nearby.
He didn't join in.
After collecting his earnings, Ren wandered the town.
He bought cheap food—warm bread and soup—and ate slowly, watching people pass by.
Kids ran through the streets laughing.
For a moment, Ren forgot about trials and monsters.
He left some coins with his father at the hotel.
"Don't worry," his father said, ruffling his hair. "Just come back alive."
Ren laughed.
"I'll try."
Evening – Quiet Conversations
As the sun dipped low, Ren sat on a public bench, legs swinging.
The sky turned orange.
Beside him sat a boy—around seventeen—with yellowish light-colored hair. He held a cup of thick ooze drink, sipping lazily.
"…You fight too?" the boy asked suddenly.
Ren blinked. "…Is it that obvious?"
The boy smirked. "You smell like forest."
They talked lightly. Nothing serious. Just small things.
When Ren stood to leave, the boy waved.
"Good luck."
Ren smiled back.
That night, lying in bed, Ren stared at the ceiling.
His body hurt.
His mana was low.
But his chest felt warm.
"…I'm getting better."
Not because he planned everything.
But because he kept getting back up.