The training did not stop.
It did not slow.
And it did not forgive.
Days passed…
One after another.
But they were not ordinary days.
They were fragments of pain.Moments of collapse.Trials… without end.
From the third day…
to the fifth…
to the tenth…
until the fifteenth—
nothing seemed to change on the surface.
Yet everything…
was changing within.
William woke before the sun.
Or perhaps…
he never truly slept.
The running grew longer.
The distances stretched…
until the starting point no longer existed.
The ground was no longer merely heavy—
it shifted.
Sometimes soft like sand…Sometimes hard like stone…Sometimes as if it swallowed his steps whole.
The weights…
were no longer a test of strength.
They were a test of survival.
The black stones multiplied.
Their weight increased.
And it felt…
as though they had become more "aware" of him.
His arms…
were no longer what they once were.
They hardened.
Tore apart.
Then rebuilt.
The tree trunk…
was no longer an object.
It was an opponent.
Each strike grew slower…
but heavier.
Deeper.
Closer to true destruction.
The waterfall…
no longer simply fell upon him.
It crushed him.
Pressed him down.
Forced him to bend—
then forced him to rise again.
The circle…
was no longer just pain.
It was a world of suffering.
Freezing cold.
Burning heat.
Irregular pulses.
Pain…
beyond explanation.
And yet—
he did not stop.
The mental training…
became even more brutal.
It was no longer about seeing the darkness.
But understanding it.
Then…
surpassing it.
He learned to feel what could not be seen.
To perceive what could not be touched.
To recognize presence…
even within emptiness.
Until—
the fifteenth day arrived.
That day…
everything changed.
"Today…"
the old man said calmly,
"we begin ability training."
William raised his head.
His eyes…
were no longer the same.
"Your ability…"
the old man continued,
"is not merely energy."
A pause.
"It is command."
Silence.
"And you must learn… how to issue it."
William looked around.
"Start with inanimate objects."
The old man pointed at a small stone.
"Give it an order."
William stepped forward.
Raised his hand.
Focused.
"Move…"
he whispered.
Nothing happened.
He tried again.
Once.
Twice.
Dozens of times.
But the stone…
did not move.
He moved on.
A branch.
A leaf.
Then—
a small animal.
"Stop."
he said firmly.
The creature glanced at him—
then continued on its way.
Failure.
Complete.
There was no response.
Not even the slightest reaction.
Frustration crept in.
But the old man…
was not surprised.
"Return."
he said simply.
William returned…
to the beginning.
But this time—
he was not the same.
The running became longer.
Harsher.
The weights doubled.
The pain intensified.
And the mental training…
evolved.
"Listen."
the old man said.
"Not with your ears."
"But with your perception."
William tried to hear him…
even when he wasn't speaking.
At first—
nothing.
Then—
a faint whisper.
Then—
a sensation.
Then—
clear awareness.
A voice…
without sound.
Days passed.
Half a month…
of breaking.
Yet—
he did not give up.
And then—
one day—
everything felt… calm.
William stood before a stone.
Just like before.
He raised his hand.
But this time—
there was no tension.
No urgency.
Only…
stillness.
And awareness.
"Move."
It was not a word.
It was…
a command.
The stone trembled.
His heart stopped for a moment.
Then—
it moved.
Slowly.
But undeniably.
William's eyes widened.
It wasn't an illusion.
It wasn't coincidence.
It was…
success.
The old man watched in silence.
Then said:
"Finally."
But William…
did not stop.
He tried again.
And this time—
he succeeded.
On the first attempt.
This was no accident.
It was control.
Even if only a little.
He lifted his gaze.
For the first time…
he felt it.
The world—
could respond.
Not to force.
But to will.
The stone continued to move…
slowly…
but steadily.
William stared at his hand…
then at the stone.
As if seeing reality itself for the first time.
"This…"
he said quietly,
"…is this it?"
The old man did not answer immediately.
He stepped closer.
Stood beside him.
And looked at the stone.
"What did you feel?"
he asked calmly.
William hesitated.
Then replied:
"It wasn't… like giving an order."
A pause.
"I didn't feel like I was asking it."
He raised his gaze.
"It felt like… I knew it would move."
Silence.
Then—
the old man smiled faintly.
"Good."
He turned toward him.
"That is the difference…"
"between someone trying to use an ability…"
"and someone beginning to understand it."
William frowned slightly.
"Then… what is my ability?"
Silence fell.
A deliberate silence.
"If you ask me now…"
the old man said slowly,
"I would tell you…"
a pause—
"you don't have one."
William's eyes widened.
"But—"
"What you have…"
the old man interrupted,
"…is the foundation."
He stepped closer.
"An ability… is not something given."
"It is something built."
A brief pause.
"What you saw just now…"
he gestured toward the stone,
"is not your ability."
"It is the first response of the world… to your will."
William's gaze sharpened.
"I don't understand."
The old man exhaled softly.
"The world…"
he said,
"…is not as silent as you think."
"Nor is it truly lifeless."
"Everything within it… responds."
He looked at the ground.
"But humans…"
"…do not know how to speak to it."
His eyes returned to William.
"You…"
"…have begun to learn the language."
Silence.
"A language…?"
"The language of will."
The old man paused.
Then continued:
"When you tried before…"
"you were issuing commands."
"But a command without foundation… is unheard."
He stepped closer.
"Now…"
"you are not commanding."
"You are… deciding."
A chill ran through William.
"And is that… enough?"
The old man shook his head.
"No."
"This… is only the beginning."
He raised his hand.
Gesturing to the surroundings.
"Inanimate objects… are easy."
"Animals… harder."
"Sentient beings…"
He paused.
"…almost impossible."
He stepped forward.
"Because everything… has its own will."
"And the stronger that will is…"
"…the greater its resistance."
A brief silence.
"That is why…"
he looked directly into William's eyes,
"it is not enough to have will."
"You must have… a stronger one."
William lowered his gaze slightly.
"And how… do I do that?"
The old man smiled faintly.
"That… is the training."
Silence.
"What you did today…"
"…was forcing something without will to respond."
"But later…"
"you will face wills that resist you."
William stiffened.
"Resist…?"
"Or…"
the old man corrected calmly,
"…you will surpass them."
Silence settled between them.
"Does this ability… have a name?"
William asked.
The old man smiled.
"Every ability… earns its name."
"When it is complete."
He stepped closer.
"For now…"
"…it is simply will."
He gestured to the stone again.
"Again."
William looked at it.
This time—
there was no doubt.
No hesitation.
No fear.
Only—
decision.
"Move."
The stone trembled—
then moved.
More clearly.
Stronger.
More stable.
The old man watched him.
And in his eyes…
something deep flickered.
"Perfect…"
he murmured quietly.
But William did not hear him.
His focus was elsewhere.
Inside himself.
Where something…
had begun to take shape.
Something…
that would change everything.