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## Chapter 2
**What Was Taught, What Was Taken**
### Age 8 — Lessons of Flame and Blood
The morning air was cool when Rougen Leo stood in the backyard, bare feet planted firmly against the earth.
"Again," Albert Leo said.
Rougen inhaled slowly, closing his eyes.
Mana answered him.
He felt it move—like a river beneath his skin—guided carefully into his right palm. A small flame flickered to life, bright and controlled, dancing just above his hand without burning him.
"Good," Albert nodded. "Now disperse it. Don't extinguish it—*release* it."
Rougen loosened his focus. The flame dissolved into sparks that vanished into the air.
Albert crossed his arms, satisfied. "You're learning restraint. That matters more than raw power."
Rougen wiped sweat from his brow. His training sessions with his father had become a daily routine since he turned eight. Not just fire magic—control, mana circulation, physical conditioning, and something Albert called *combat awareness*.
"Magic isn't just spells," Albert often said. "It's decision-making under pressure."
Rougen remembered those words well.
He absorbed everything his father taught him with quiet intensity. Unlike other children, he didn't complain. Didn't ask when lessons would end.
Because every moment felt precious.
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### The Taste of This World
Inside the house, Akira Satoru ruled the kitchen.
"Rougen, cut the roots thinner," she said gently, pointing at the vegetables on the table. "They release bitterness if you're careless."
"Yes, Mom."
Cooking in this world was nothing like cooking back on Earth.
Some plants pulsed faintly with mana. Others reacted to heat differently, changing flavor depending on the cook's emotional state. Akira taught him patiently—how to cleanse ingredients of excess mana, how to blend flavors that balanced body and soul.
"Food isn't just nourishment," she said one evening as they stirred a simmering pot. "It's memory. It's comfort. It's survival."
Rougen listened carefully.
He learned how to prepare dried rations for travel. How to cook meat without wasting nutrients. How to preserve food using salt infused with stabilizing magic.
Years later, these lessons would save his life.
For now, he simply enjoyed the quiet moments with his mother—the soft clink of utensils, the warmth of the fire, her calm presence beside him.
He never took it for granted.
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### Age 9 — The First Hunt
Albert took Rougen into the forest for the first time when he was nine.
"Stay behind me," Albert said, adjusting the strap of his blade. "Watch. Learn. Don't rush."
The forest was alive.
Mana flowed heavily between the trees, thick enough to make Rougen's skin prickle. Birds watched them silently. Somewhere deeper within, something growled.
Albert showed him how to move quietly. How to read broken twigs and disturbed soil. How to sense hostile intent through mana fluctuations.
When they encountered a horned boar, Albert didn't immediately attack.
"Observe," he whispered.
The boar charged.
Albert moved in a blur—sidestepping, striking cleanly, efficiently. The creature fell with a final breath.
Rougen stared.
"No wasted movement," Albert said, cleaning his blade. "Killing is not about cruelty. It's about necessity."
Rougen nodded.
Later, Albert guided Rougen's hands as he skinned the animal, teaching him how to use every part—meat, hide, bone.
That night, Akira cooked the meat they brought home.
It tasted better than anything Rougen had ever eaten.
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### Ages 10–11 — Quiet Strength
By ten, Rougen was known in the village as a quiet, polite boy.
By eleven, people stopped underestimating him.
He grew taller, leaner. His hair became wild and spiky, dark strands refusing to stay flat no matter how much he tried. His eyes—once a soft reddish-brown—deepened into something stranger.
A mix of **purple and crimson**, reflecting fire mana beneath the surface.
Albert noticed.
"You have the eyes of someone who thinks too much," his father said one evening.
Rougen smiled faintly. "Is that bad?"
Albert shook his head. "No. Just… heavy."
Training intensified.
Rougen learned to fight with a short blade. To cast spells silently. To suppress his mana signature completely.
"Sometimes," Albert said, "looking weak keeps you alive."
Rougen took that lesson seriously.
He began acting quieter. Less noticeable. He learned how to lower his presence until people forgot he was there.
Akira worried.
"You don't have to hide," she said softly.
Rougen looked away. "I know."
But deep down, something told him the world was not as safe as it felt.
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### Age 12 — The Night Everything Broke
It happened without warning.
The air inside the house twisted.
Mana screamed.
Rougen woke instantly, heart pounding.
The candles in the room flickered violently—then went out.
*Teleportation,* his mind supplied.
Albert was already moving.
"Rougen!" his father shouted. "Behind me!"
The air split open like torn cloth.
Five figures emerged.
Dark Skeletons.
Their bones were blackened, etched with crimson runes. Hollow eye sockets burned with unnatural purple flame. Each carried weapons forged from corrupted mana.
One spoke, its voice scraping against reality.
**"Target confirmed. Rougen Leo. Elimination order active."**
Akira stood beside Albert without hesitation.
"No," she said firmly.
The first skeleton lunged.
Albert intercepted it, fire exploding from his blade. Bones shattered—but immediately began reforming.
"Akira!" Albert shouted. "Take Rougen and run!"
Akira pulled Rougen back—but another skeleton appeared behind her, blade raised.
Rougen screamed. "Mom!"
She turned just in time to push him aside.
The blade pierced her chest.
"AKIRA!" Albert roared.
Mana erupted from him in a violent wave, incinerating two skeletons instantly. He moved like a man possessed—burning, cutting, destroying.
But the skeletons didn't stop.
Akira collapsed, blood staining the floor.
Rougen crawled to her side, shaking. "Mom—no—please—"
She smiled weakly, touching his cheek.
"Live," she whispered.
Another strike.
Albert threw himself between Rougen and the final attack.
The blade went through his heart.
Time froze.
Albert fell.
Rougen stared.
His world shattered.
"NO—NO—NO—!"
Mana exploded outward in an uncontrolled storm, shattering the remaining skeletons completely.
But it didn't matter.
The house burned.
Rougen screamed—raw, broken, animal.
A scream born from two lives ending to save one.
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### The Forest Child
Rougen ran.
Barefoot. Bleeding. Blind with tears.
The forest swallowed him whole.
Days passed.
Weeks.
He remembered his father's lessons. His mother's cooking. Survival instincts kicked in.
He hunted small animals. Built crude shelters. Suppressed his mana completely.
He became quiet.
Withdrawn.
A child with spiky hair, **purple-red eyes dulled by grief**, wrapped in a **red and gold cloak**—the last gift his father had given him.
He learned how to look weak.
How to survive.
How to disappear.
And deep in the forest, Rougen Leo lived on—
Not as a child.
But as something forged by loss.
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