Chapter 14 – The Path of Growth

Ethan woke to the sharp chill of the morning air, his body stiff and aching from the rough ground beneath him. The events of the previous night replayed in his mind—the bandits, the fire attack, and the brief, inexplicable moment where something inside him had responded.

He had resonated with that power. He had felt it. But now, as he sat in the dim light of dawn, there was only silence.

Ethan clenched his fists. He had spent years being told his trait was weak, meaningless. But last night had proven otherwise. He just didn't know how to control it yet.

His breath misted in the air as he focused inward, reaching for that sensation. He tried to recall exactly what had happened—the heat, the pressure, the force he had turned back on his attacker.

But nothing came.

Anxiety crept in. What if it had been a fluke? What if he had no control over it at all?

No. That wasn't an option.

He forced himself to stand, bracing against the exhaustion dragging at his limbs. He had no mentor to guide him, no books to reference. If he wanted to understand his power, he had to figure it out himself.

He spent the morning testing every possible trigger.

He tensed his muscles, willing something—anything—to happen.

He threw himself against trees, hoping for a reaction.

He even tried holding his breath until his lungs burned, thinking maybe pain or stress would awaken it.

But his trait refused to respond.

By noon, his breath came in ragged gasps. His arms shook from exertion, and his knuckles were raw from punching the rough bark of a fallen tree.

It wasn't enough.

Frustration surged through him, and for a moment, he wanted to scream. He had escaped his home, left behind everything, risked everything—and for what? To sit in the middle of nowhere, just as powerless as before?

The thought was unbearable.

But as he sank onto a rock, staring at his trembling hands, a different thought emerged.

Maybe he was looking at this the wrong way.

The Decision to Train His Body

Ethan had been born into a world where strength defined worth. At the banquet, the other heirs hadn't just shown off their abilities—they had demonstrated years of training, discipline, and mastery.

Even if his trait refused to awaken, his body was something he could control.

He had spent years being weaker than those around him. That would change.

Sitting up, he analyzed his situation. No resources. No tutors. No noble training halls.

He would have to train himself.

Ethan pulled together everything he had ever observed about combat, about strength. He thought about the warriors in his house, the way his father's knights moved. They weren't just strong—they were efficient.

He needed a plan.

Ethan divided his training into categories:

1. Strength & Endurance – Chopping wood, carrying stones, climbing trees, pushing his body beyond its limits.

2. Speed & Reflexes – Sprinting through rough terrain, dodging branches, training his reactions to survive.

3. Flexibility & Control – Holding difficult positions, balancing on thin logs, learning how to move fluidly.

4. Pain Resistance – Conditioning his body through impact, learning how to endure and keep moving.

Each exercise had a purpose. He wouldn't waste a single movement.

As the days passed, his body began to change.

His muscles ached constantly, but he pushed through the pain. His breath became steadier, his movements sharper. He wasn't just getting stronger—he was adapting.

The lack of food was the hardest part. His body burned energy faster than he could replenish it. He needed a better way to find sustenance.

That's what led him to the lake.

A Chance Encounter

The water was clear and still, the surface broken only by the occasional ripple of fish moving beneath. Ethan crouched near the edge, watching carefully. If he could catch just one, it would be enough to last him another day.

But before he could make a move, voices carried through the trees.

Ethan tensed, instincts kicking in as he silently slipped behind a nearby rock. The voices grew louder—low, hushed tones, spoken with a kind of urgency that made him stay hidden.

Through the gaps in the trees, he saw them.

A group of men, rough and armed, standing near the water's edge. They weren't bandits, but they didn't carry themselves like ordinary travelers either. Their expressions were sharp, their movements careful.

And then Ethan heard something that made his breath catch.

"…The arena's moving locations again."

An arena?

He strained to listen, piecing together bits of their conversation.

It wasn't just an arena. It was underground. Illegal. A place where warriors, fighters, and desperate men clashed for wealth and survival.

Ethan's heart pounded.

A place where people fought without status, without nobility.

A place where strength was the only thing that mattered.

For the first time since he had left home, a fire lit in his chest.

This was his chance.

He would go. He would watch. He would learn.

And if he had to step into that arena himself…

So be it.