Chapter 24:

The morning air was crisp as Harvey stepped onto the training grounds. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the soreness from the previous day's drills, but there was something else beneath the ache—something solid. His body felt different. Stronger. More grounded.

Duncan, as always, was already waiting for him, his arms crossed and his ever-watchful gaze fixed on Harvey. "You're getting better at holding yourself together," the soldier remarked, tossing him a wooden practice sword. "But control isn't just about endurance—it's about precision. It's time you learned what that really means."

Harvey caught the sword mid-air and took his stance. The days of mindless repetition were gone. Now, Duncan expected him to think through every movement, to measure his strikes, to balance offense with defense.

They began with a series of drills—fluid slashes, quick parries, and sudden bursts of movement. Each time Harvey swung his blade, he focused on keeping himself steady, on ensuring the energy within him didn't slip away with every exertion.

For so long, he'd been fighting himself as much as any opponent. His strength had always been fleeting, like water slipping through his fingers. But now, as he moved, he could feel a difference. He was no longer just reacting—he was maintaining.

After an hour of intense sparring, Duncan held up a hand, signaling for Harvey to stop. "Tell me what you've learned," he said.

Harvey took a moment to catch his breath. "That power isn't just about how much I have," he said slowly. "It's about how much I can keep."

Duncan gave a rare approving nod. "Exactly. People think strength is about overwhelming force. But a warrior who can control their power, who can sustain it through battle rather than wasting it all at once—that's someone truly dangerous."

Harvey exhaled, gripping the sword a little tighter. The more he trained, the more he understood Duncan's lessons. It wasn't about learning some mystical cultivation technique or tapping into an external force. It was about mastering himself first.

And yet, as his control grew, so did his awareness of the power within him. It still gnawed at the edges of his being, still sought to consume, but now, it no longer dictated his actions. He was learning to suppress it—not just through force of will but through sheer discipline.

As training continued, Duncan began integrating more into their lessons—small weights attached to Harvey's limbs, longer sparring sessions against multiple opponents, exercises that pushed his endurance beyond its limits. The message was clear: strength was not just about bursts of power, but about lasting through hardship.

The meals Duncan provided remained simple, but they did their job. Each bite of the nutrient-rich ather oats worked through his system, reinforcing his body in ways he was only beginning to understand. Before, his body would have wasted away no matter what he ate. Now, the nourishment stayed, helping him withstand the growing demands of training.

By nightfall, Harvey was exhausted, but unlike before, he did not feel empty. He felt stable.

As he sat outside, staring up at the stars, he thought about how much had changed since the day he had lost Julia.

He wasn't ready to face everything yet. Not the pain of her absence. Not the questions that still haunted him.

But at the very least, he was strong enough to take another step forward.

Tomorrow, the training would continue.

And he would be ready.