[A/N: I changed the aura ranking]
"One hundred and nine… One hundred and ten…"
Inside the shadowed interior of the cave, a silver-haired boy moved with steady precision, his upper body drenched in sweat that glistened like dew in the soft light. Ezra gritted his teeth, each sit-up sending sharp jolts of pain through his already strained muscles. It was as though needles were being driven into his core with every motion but he refused to stop.
This wasn't like the earlier training, when he focused on brute strength with the axe. Now he was building endurance and conditioning his body to withstand blows, to survive even when overwhelmed. At his current level, he was only at the Novice Stage of aura. He couldn't manifest it outside his body yet, so he had to rely on his physical form to carry him through.
In his previous life, never would he have imagined stripping down in the wilderness to push his limits like a desperate warrior. Back then, he exercised just enough to keep in shape. Nothing like this. Nothing like the raw, punishing agony he now invited each day.
A few meters away, Leona and Mira sat on a slab of rock, watching in silence. Leona's expression was tinged with curiosity and admiration, while Mira's face twisted with something darker—contempt.
She scoffed and turned her head away with a visible scowl, refusing to watch another second.
Leona caught the expression and sighed inwardly. She knew Mira's anger wasn't just about the attack in the forest. It was about pride. About resentment.
Mira had misunderstood Ezra's actions. After the bandit ambush, she had awoken to find his tunic covering her torn clothes especially over her exposed chest. To her, it felt like a cruel violation disguised as compassion. Even after Leona explained that Ezra had saved her, Mira refused to believe it. Maybe she couldn't.
To her, it wasn't just about shame. It was the insult of being helped by someone she believed was beneath her.
'She's not angry because she was saved,' Leona realized. 'She's angry because he didn't care what she thought.'
That's what truly enraged Mira. Not Ezra's presence but his indifference.
'Useless bastard. I swear, one day I'll kill you!' Mira thought, her gaze sharp like knives as she stared at Ezra's form. She had hated him since the moment she learned who he was—a manaless outcast, discarded by the Valecross family. Meanwhile, she came from a line of prestigious servants known for producing top-class warriors and attendants.
She had insulted him. Ignored him. Mocked him.
And now… he was training like a madman, while she sat there burning in silence.
Ezra didn't return her glare. He hadn't once acknowledged her since the cave incident. It was as if she didn't exist and that infuriated her more than any insult could.
"If you have time to stare at me like I'm a feast for predators," Ezra said, still doing sit-ups, his voice cutting through the air like a blade, "then you might as well be useful and train. I can't have deadweight dragging us down."
The venom in his words hit both Leona and Mira like a slap.
Leona winced and offered a bitter smile. He wasn't wrong. Even if all she could do was produce a flicker of flame, it was better than doing nothing. In their situation, every ounce of strength counted.
Mira, on the other hand, flared up with indignation. "Hah! We all know who the real luggage is here," she snapped.
Leona turned sharply to her, eyes wide with disbelief. But Ezra… didn't flinch.
He didn't even pause.
"At least this 'luggage' is working toward something," Ezra replied coolly, his tone calm and unwavering. "While someone else just sits, whining with a filthy tongue and no results to show for it."
Mira's jaw clenched. His composure only made it worse. There was no fury in his voice, no raised volume. Just a flat, emotionless fact and that made her feel small.
She wanted to retort. To shout. But nothing came. The only thing she could do was turn away in silence and fold her legs into a meditative posture, cheeks burning with humiliation.
Leona followed suit, silently watching them both as she sat.
For a moment, the cave was quiet again, filled only with the sound of Ezra's labored breathing and the occasional chirp of birds outside.
Later That Afternoon
The forest outside the cave was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of wind through the leaves and the distant call of birds. Mira had left the cave under the pretense of stretching her legs. In truth, she was still stewing.
'Who does he think he is? Talking to me like that?' she thought, stalking through the underbrush. 'Just because he can swing an axe doesn't mean he's special.'
She found a shaded spot near a fallen log and sat cross-legged, closing her eyes. Breathing in deeply, she began cycling her mana a habit drilled into her by years of training at the Kaelis estate. She hadn't made much progress since the attack. Her focus was scattered. Her pride wounded.
But as she meditated, the wind shifted. The birds stopped singing.
A low growl guttural and deep reached her ears.
Mira opened her eyes.
From the tree line, a massive beast lumbered into view. A wild boar, easily the size of a carriage, covered in bristled black fur. Its tusks were curved and jagged, with moss and dried blood clinging to their tips. The earth shook slightly as it stomped forward, snorting.
A [Stonehide Boar] known for their reinforced skulls and near-impervious shoulders. Even adult aura users struggled to fight one alone.
Mira's blood turned to ice.
The beast snorted and charged.
She scrambled to her feet, mana flaring weakly around her fingers, but it was unstable—unformed. A flicker of flame sparked, then fizzled out.
She stumbled back, her legs too stiff to move quickly. The boar was almost upon her.
And then—
CLANG!
A blur of silver and dark leather crashed into the boar's flank. Ezra's axe collided with its hide, sending a dull tremor through the ground. The beast stumbled sideways, roaring in anger, but not downed.
Mira collapsed behind him, gasping for air.
Ezra stood firm between her and the monster, chest rising and falling with restrained intensity. His axe was chipped from constant use, his hands raw but his posture never wavered.
"You're lucky I needed fresh air," he said without turning.
Mira blinked in shock. "Why… why are you here?"
"I told you," he muttered, tightening his grip on the axe. "I can't afford deadweight. Especially when it walks straight into danger."
The boar snarled and charged again.
Ezra didn't flinch. Instead, he stepped to the side with precision, narrowly avoiding the tusks, and brought his axe down not to kill, but to strike its leg. A clean hit. The beast roared and turned, limping slightly now.
Ezra circled it, movements fluid but cautious. His aura remained internal, reinforcing his muscles but without external projection, he couldn't finish it.
Not yet.
He dodged another wild strike, using the beast's own weight against it, but it was clear he couldn't overpower it for long. He wasn't trying to kill rather he was protecting Mira, keeping her out of the boar's charge path while waiting for an opening.
Finally, the boar paused, snorting as it bled from one leg. Then, with a final huff, it turned and stomped away, disappearing into the forest, defeated but alive.
Ezra exhaled, lowering his weapon.
Behind him, Mira was still frozen, her hands trembling.
"Why didn't you finish it?" she asked quietly.
Ezra didn't look back. "I can't. Not yet. I'm not strong enough."
That admission—so calm, so honest that it stung her in a way she didn't expect.
He glanced over his shoulder. "You would've died."
She looked down, ashamed.
"I didn't do it for you," he added, voice flat. "I did it because I can't afford to lose people while we're still this weak. That's all."
He walked off, leaving her alone with the wind and the fading scent of blood.
For the first time since meeting him, Mira didn't feel hatred.
She felt small.
And she hated that even more.