CHAPTER 10: Training in the Shadows

CHAPTER 10: Training in the Shadows

Hideo Takumi had made a decision—not a half-hearted one, but one that could change everything. He would train himself—not in the estate's courtyard or the noble family's manicured gardens, but in a place few dared to step foot: the Forbidden Forest. The dense woods bordering the Takumi residence were infamous. Twisted mana currents, hostile magical beasts, and a wild aura that suppressed the body—it was a place feared even by seasoned adventurers.

But for Hideo, such a place was precisely where true growth began.

"If you never dare step to the edge of hell," he whispered, eyes fixed on the mist-shrouded entrance of the forest, "you'll never know how to survive it."

He knew he wasn't strong yet. In truth, he was barely prepared. But strength wasn't what he relied on—not yet. What he sought was understanding. He wasn't the type to leap into fire without knowing its burn point.

Every morning, as the sun peeked from beyond the hills, Hideo slipped away to the forest's edge. Beneath a gnarled tree with roots like old beards, he began his regimen—slow stretches, controlled breathing, lifting boulders nearly as tall as his waist. At times, he ran along the forest's perimeter, sweat pouring, breath ragged, but the fire in his eyes never faded.

His movements weren't as fast as a knight's, but each was meticulous. He counted every breath, monitored every muscle contraction under strain, and corrected his posture with near-obsessive focus.

But physical training was only the beginning.

Between those routines, he began something unusual. He would sit cross-legged, close his eyes, and draw a deep, long breath.

"Skill Memory (~) activated — deepest memory archive accessed"

Like curtains being pulled back inside his mind, page after page of memories from his past life returned. Books on magical theory, fictional cultivation systems, mana circulation diagrams, meridian structures from ancient novels—all replayed in a flurry of images and ideas.

"If the theory holds," he murmured, "then mana flow can be manipulated—not through chants, but through understanding and intentional structure."

He picked up a fallen leaf and placed it on his palm. No magic circles. No incantation. Just a mental visualization of an energy spiral—and a clear, unwavering intent.

The leaf… trembled.

Its color brightened, as if it had returned from the edge of withering.

"New Skill Acquired: Mana Sensory (F)"

A faint smile played on Hideo's lips. No cheer. No applause. Just silence filled with certainty.

"It worked."

The following days followed the same rhythm—body in the morning, theory in the afternoon, documentation at night. He played hide and seek with forest creatures to refine Hide (~), touched withered plants and tested Giving (~), observing the micro changes with an alchemist's scrutiny.

He also began practicing basic combat forms: stances, attack patterns, sword swings, and defensive shifts. He didn't just mimic them—he sought to understand the meaning behind each motion.

"Skill isn't about raw power," he whispered while slashing a short blade across a tree trunk. "It's about understanding—the what, the why, and the how."

One afternoon, as he tightened a cloth wrap around his hand, a silver-scaled snake darted out from the underbrush. In a split second, Hideo moved. He dropped to a knee, rolled sideways, and drew a small blade from his hip.

The blade flashed.

The snake's tail split. It hissed and fled, leaving a faint trail of blood across the leaves.

Hideo collapsed to the ground, breathing hard.

"I'm not strong yet… but I'm not foolish enough to die without knowing why."

That night, beneath the moonlight filtering through the canopy, Hideo opened his notebook. Each page was filled with neat handwriting—arcane symbols, diagrams of energy structures, and visual theories. It was a chaotic blend of old-world knowledge and new-world reality.

"New Skill Formed: Theoretical Convergence (E)"

(Ability to connect two unrelated bodies of knowledge to form a new magical or alchemical formula.)

Hideo looked up at the sky above the forest. A cool breeze stirred the leaves, carrying the scent of moss and earth.

"I'm no genius… But I may have one weapon no one else in this world does—the ability to keep learning, no matter the limits."

And for the first time… he smiled.

Not because he had grown stronger.

But because of something far more important:

He could feel this world—slowly but surely—starting to open itself to him.