Learning Essence Circulation [V]

Two hours.

For two long hours, Michael instructed Samael to… breathe.

As it turned out, continuously allowing yourself to breathe consciously was not as easy as it sounded.

Samael never thought he'd fail at something he'd been doing since birth.

If not for his knowledge of the game, he would've suspected Michael's secret training method was just slow and methodical torture disguised as wisdom.

But it wasn't.

Samael knew that Michael was teaching him the genuine thing.

His body, however, refused to cooperate.

The more he focused on his breathing, the more unnatural it felt. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold. Every breath was deliberate, forced — like trying to control a puppet with tangled strings.

Michael sat cross-legged nearby, watching him with the patience of a saint. Or a sadist. Samael hadn't decided yet.

"You're overthinking it," Michael finally said. "Just let it flow naturally."