Kealen woke up to loud noises striking the walls of the house heavy thuds as if something massive was being smashed outside. He opened his eyes slowly to see the dark ceiling, then turned with effort toward the stone fireplace that had comforted him all night, only to find its fires completely extinguished, turned into lifeless, cold gray ash. He stood up, pain gnawing at his muscles, but he noticed that his academy clothes were completely dry thanks to the heat of the previous night. He bent down to tie his leather boots tightly, then stepped toward the wooden door and opened it; a cold, harsh breeze struck his face.
Outside, Farouk stood with the steadfastness of mountains, holding a broad axe and swinging it down on giant tree trunks, splitting them in two with a single precise strike. The sky was overcast with thick leaden clouds completely blocking the sun, making the day look gloomy and gray, while strong winds toyed with Farouk's hair and his white clothes. Farouk turned toward Kealen, looking at him with piercing eyes while continuing his hard work, and said in a loud voice:
"You're finally awake, you lazy boy! Don't just stand there watching; help me carry these cut trunks and take them into the storehouse immediately."
Kealen stepped forward with heavy strides and began lifting the pieces of wood; some were so large they strained his arms, others small but rough to the touch. He entered the storehouse, which was drowning in deep darkness and smelling of old wood and dust. Coal dust filled the place, due to the explosion of the stove on Farouk in his past days. After a long time of exhausting hauling, Kealen brushed the dust off his hands and turned to Farouk, who was wiping his dirty forehead, and said tiredly:
"Farouk.. is there anything to eat? I feel like my stomach is tearing from hunger."
Farouk threw the axe aside and replied coldly:
"Go to the kitchen, you'll find some wild fruits; eat enough to satisfy your hunger and don't take long. I want you to head to the water source before me; today's training won't be like yesterday the real work starts there."
In another far-off place, the training ground was igniting with a different kind of fight. Janeiro was facing Soren in a bitter duel. Janeiro's body was shaking from extreme exhaustion, his sweat pouring like a waterfall, soaking his clothes and dripping onto the dirt ground. In contrast, Soren stood with ultimate stability, holding his ancient book in his right hand and flipping its pages with a strange calmness, as if reading a novel in a quiet garden rather than in the heart of a battle. Soren raised his eyes coldly and asked Janeiro:
"Is this the most you have? I expected a lot from you, but it seems I overestimated you."
These words provoked Janeiro's pride. He suddenly took off with a mad speed that an ordinary human eye couldn't follow. He began circling Soren like a hurricane, directing lightning-fast, successive strikes with his hands and feet. But Soren was blocking all those strikes using only his left hand, with simple, calculated movements as if he expected the strike's location before it even began. Suddenly, Soren placed his palm on Janeiro's chest and pushed him with a force that made him stagger backward, saying:
"You are very weak.. your moves are exposed."
A yellow aura ignited around Janeiro's hand, and he shouted at the top of his voice: "Aura Activation!" He jumped toward Soren with a new fighting spirit. The speed of his strikes was amazing, as he directed three powerful hits in less than five seconds. At that moment, Soren closed his book with a single snap, tucked it inside his white robe with dignity, then moved in the blink of an eye to grab Janeiro's wrist and twist his arm before tossing him away to hit the ground.
Soren stood and looked at him seriously, saying:
"Your ability is excellent, but you lack the art of fighting. Are you sure your talent is speed? To me, you walk with the slowness of a tortoise. A real fighter at your level should direct five fatal strikes in just three seconds."
Janeiro gathered all his remaining strength and took off with the speed of lightning, to the point that the stones under his feet scattered into the air. His body turned into a ball of yellow light hovering around Soren in organized chaos. Soren gave a short laugh and said, "Show me what you have!" Janeiro began striking with all his power, forcing Soren for the first time to use both hands for defense, as Janeiro reached an incredible speed of three strikes in two seconds.
Soren's eyes flashed with a spark of admiration, and he said: "Finally, you made me use my hands! Time to get serious." Soren activated his pure white aura, which surrounded him like a cocoon of light, and closed his eyes completely, relying on his spiritual sense. He grabbed the wrist of Janeiro, who froze in his place from shock, then Soren raised his hand high and delivered a thunderous strike to the middle of Janeiro's face. Janeiro flew through the air for a long distance before crashing into a huge rock that cracked behind his back.
Soren approached with quick steps and said with concern: "I think I overdid the harshness this time." But he was surprised when he saw Janeiro still conscious, opening one eye with difficulty while the other was completely swollen, blood flowing from his forehead to cover his face. Janeiro whispered in a broken voice:
"Teacher.. did.. did I do well?"
Soren smiled deeply and leaned toward him, saying: "Yes boy, you did well." Upon hearing these words, Janeiro closed his eyes and lost consciousness from the intensity of the pain. Soren carried him on his back, looked at the gray sky with a smile of pride, and said: "It is a new generation.. a generation that will tear the veil of darkness."
Back to Kealen, the scene was dripping with agony. The boy had stripped off his upper clothes and sat performing push-ups on the grass, while Farouk placed a giant rock weighing several times his weight on his back. Farouk sat near him, watching every move and breath, saying coldly:
"Only two push-ups left.. don't be a coward and give up now."
Kealen's skin had turned a deep red, the veins in his neck bulging as if they would burst, and his body was shaking uncontrollably. He tried with all his might to lift his body upward, but his strength failed completely; he fell on his face and the rock rolled off him with a thunderous sound. Kealen shouted while panting:
"I can't! I feel my muscles tearing and my bones breaking!"
Farouk stood and looked at him with a look of feigned contempt to sharpen his resolve, saying:
"If you don't control this rock and make it a part of your body, you will never open the 'Soul Eye,' and you will remain a nobody in the second level. You will be easy prey for the strong, and you won't have the power even to protect yourself so how will you protect those you love? The weak have no place in this world."
Farouk entered the house and closed the door, leaving Kealen in a struggle with himself. Kealen burned with anger at his own weakness; he began biting his hands hard until they bled, screaming inwardly about the reason for his helplessness. He stood up with a rebellious spirit, and with extreme difficulty, he replaced the rock on his back despite the bleeding wounds, and began trying again.
Total darkness fell, and the biting cold returned to strike the place, but Kealen did not stop. Farouk opened the door to find a scene that shocked him; the rock was stained with Kealen's blood, and his hands and stomach were raw from the friction against the hard ground. Farouk heard a faint voice counting with difficulty: "Thirty... six...". He hadn't settled for the two push-ups, but had continued all day until he smashed his limits.
Farouk laughed to himself and said: "What a naughty and stubborn child." Then he shouted at him: "That's enough! Training is over, rest now!" Farouk stepped forward and removed the rock; Kealen fell like a lifeless corpse, but he tried to stand again, muttering: "I am.. not.. weak..". Farouk smiled and carried him gently inside the house to tend to his wounds.
The days passed like a quick shadow twenty days of continuous hell for Kealen and Janeiro, during which they knew no taste of rest. The final week before the exam began to approach. One morning, Farouk went out to see Kealen at the water source. The boy had changed completely; his hair had grown and become messy, and a light beard appeared on his face, adding dignity and roughness. He stood before the solid trees, striking them with fists surrounded by a glowing copper aura. With every hit, the tree trunk shook violently as if it would break, and the sound of the impact echoed through the forest like cannon fire.
Farouk stood watching this amazing transformation, realizing that those twenty days were not just training, but a real smelting process that had shattered the weak child and forged a man.