Chapter 10 – The Path of Power

Cedric stood in the center of the training hall, staring at the Elderly Woman. Her presence alone carried a strange weight, like she was connected to something far greater than herself. Behind her, Orin sat cross-legged in meditation, her eyes closed. He still couldn't believe it—Orin, the boy he had traveled with, was actually a girl and the Avatar of the Monarch of Souls.

She had looked so different in the pool, her long silver hair flowing down her back, her face calm and serene. When she opened her eyes and saw him staring, she had only smiled. That made it worse. He had turned red, and she had chuckled softly before returning to meditation.

But now wasn't the time to be embarrassed. The Elderly Woman had called him here to train.

The Mental Arena

"Cedric," the Elderly Woman said, stepping forward. "You have power, but you don't know how to use it."

Cedric frowned. He knew that already. Ever since he started fighting, he had relied on instinct, pushing through with brute force. But he had seen Orin fight. She was precise, every movement controlled, every attack deliberate.

"What do I need to do?" he asked.

The Elderly Woman raised her hand, and suddenly, everything shifted.

Cedric felt a strange pull, and in an instant, he was no longer in the training hall. He was somewhere else—a vast, empty battlefield stretching endlessly in all directions. The sky above was dark, swirling with mist.

The Mental Arena.

"This place exists within your mind," the Elderly Woman explained, appearing beside him. "Here, you will fight without holding back. You will feel pain, exhaustion, even death—but none of it will be real."

Cedric looked at his hands. They felt solid, real. Everything here did.

"Your first lesson," the Elderly Woman said, raising her staff, "is survival."

First Battle – The Mist Warriors

The ground rumbled. Cedric turned as figures began rising from the mist, humanoid shapes made of swirling shadows. They had no faces, no features—only glowing white eyes and swords made of darkness.

"Fight," the Elderly Woman said simply.

The first Mist Warrior charged.

Cedric moved on instinct, raising his hand. Light flared from his palm, forming a blade of pure energy. He slashed forward, cutting the warrior in half. It dissolved into mist.

More came.

Cedric fought, his movements rough but effective. He wasn't used to a sword, but his body remembered. A memory from his past life as the Monarch of Light. He slashed, dodged, and struck again, his light cutting through the shadows.

But there were too many.

One warrior slipped past his guard, slamming a fist into his stomach. Cedric gasped as pain exploded through his body. Another warrior kicked him in the chest, sending him flying.

He hit the ground hard, gasping for air.

"They aren't real," he muttered to himself. But it still hurt.

The Elderly Woman watched him silently.

Cedric forced himself up. He had to be faster. Smarter.

Instead of swinging wildly, he focused. He let the light in his body flow, extending his senses. The next warrior came at him—Cedric sidestepped smoothly, his blade moving before the enemy could react. One clean strike, and the shadow dissolved.

He did it again. And again.

This time, when they attacked, he didn't just react—he controlled the flow of battle.

Within minutes, all the Mist Warriors were gone.

Cedric stood there, breathing hard.

"Well done," the Elderly Woman said. "Now, we begin the real training."

Second Battle – Orin

Before Cedric could even catch his breath, the mist shifted again. Orin stepped forward.

Except this wasn't the Orin he knew.

She wore silver armor, a long spear in her hand. Her eyes glowed faintly with a deep blue light. This was Orin at full power—the Avatar of the Monarch of Souls.

"Wait, I have to fight her?" Cedric asked.

Orin smiled. "Are you scared?"

"No." He lifted his sword. "Just… not sure if I can win."

Orin lunged.

Cedric barely had time to raise his blade before her spear slammed into him, knocking him back. The force was incredible—far beyond anything he had ever faced.

He rolled to his feet just in time to dodge the next strike. Orin moved like a dancer, her spear spinning, each attack smooth and precise. Cedric blocked as best as he could, but she was too fast.

"Stop blocking," the Elderly Woman said from the side. "You'll never beat her that way."

Cedric gritted his teeth. He needed to do something different.

When Orin attacked again, instead of blocking, he dodged—but this time, he let his light gather. As she passed him, he released a burst of energy.

Orin twisted in mid-air, avoiding most of it, but a small part of the attack grazed her shoulder.

She landed and touched the wound. "Not bad."

Cedric smirked. "Getting better?"

Orin didn't respond. She just attacked again—twice as fast.

Cedric Awakens a New Power

For the next hour, Cedric and Orin fought. Every time he thought he had the advantage, she changed tactics. Every time he landed a hit, she hit back harder. His body ached, his breathing ragged.

But then, something clicked.

Cedric stopped thinking. He stopped reacting. Instead, he just moved.

His light flowed through him—not just as an attack, but as part of his body. His sword became an extension of himself. His movements felt natural, as if he had been fighting like this his whole life.

Orin attacked—Cedric saw the opening before she even moved.

He dodged, countered, and for the first time, he was faster than her.

His blade met her spear—and this time, he didn't lose.

Orin jumped back, breathing hard. Then, she grinned. "You're learning."

Cedric looked down at himself. His body felt different. His energy was sharper, more refined. He was stronger.

The Elderly Woman nodded approvingly. "That's enough for today." With a wave of her hand, the Mental Arena faded, and they were back in the training hall.

Cedric collapsed onto the floor, exhausted. He had never felt so tired in his life.

Orin sat down beside him. "You did well."

He turned his head toward her. "You didn't hold back, did you?"

"Nope." She smiled.

Cedric groaned. "I hate you."

Orin just laughed.

The Next Step

The Elderly Woman stepped forward. "Cedric, your training is far from over. This was just the beginning. If you wish to defeat Raziel, you will need far more than this."

Cedric sat up, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Then what's next?"

The Elderly Woman's expression darkened. "A true battle. Not here, but in the real world."

Cedric's heart pounded. He wasn't ready. Not yet.

But deep inside, he knew—the time for training was almost over. Soon, he would have to face a real enemy.

And this time, if he lost—it wouldn't just be training.