Chapter 13
The training didn't start the next day.
It started that same day.
The professor didn't give Leo time to think, or doubt, or even process what had happened the night before. As soon as the sun began to rise, he took him away from the town, leading him through a narrow dirt path until the houses disappeared behind them and only open land remained.
It was a wide, empty space.
Dry ground.
Scattered rocks.
The wind moved freely, carrying dust with it in slow, constant currents. There was nothing nearby. No walls. No structures. No distractions.
Nowhere to hide.
—If you're going to lose control, the professor said without turning, —I'd rather it happen here.
Nando stayed a few meters back, arms slightly crossed, looking around the empty terrain. —Wow… very reassuring.
Teodora didn't react. She simply stood to the side, watching.
Leo didn't say anything.
He couldn't.
From the moment he woke up, the energy had been there.
Not quiet.
Not hidden.
Present.
It moved inside him like something alive, pressing against his chest, sliding under his skin, rising and falling without rhythm. At times it felt like heat, at others like a cold current crawling through his veins.
It hadn't left.
It hadn't settled.
And it wasn't his.
—Feel it, the professor ordered.
Leo closed his eyes slowly.
There was no need to search.
He found it immediately.
It surged the moment he focused on it.
Violent.
Unstable.
Restless.
Like something waiting for permission to break loose.
His breathing shifted.
His shoulders tensed.
But this time…
it didn't catch him off guard.
—Don't reject it, the professor continued, his voice calm but firm. —If you push it away, it will push back harder.
Leo inhaled deeply, holding the air in his lungs for a moment before letting it out slowly.
He didn't fight it.
He let it stay.
For a second… nothing happened.
Then it came.
A sudden impulse.
Sharp.
Overwhelming.
Rage.
Not his.
Movement.
Action.
His body reacted before he could think, muscles tightening as he stepped forward, his weight shifting as if he were about to strike something standing right in front of him—
—Stop, the professor said.
Leo froze.
His teeth clenched.
The tension stayed in his body, trembling, pushing him forward.
For a moment, it felt like he wouldn't be able to stop.
But he did.
His foot remained planted.
His body shook slightly… then steadied.
Silence followed.
Only the wind moved.
—Again.
Leo didn't argue.
He reset his stance, breathing heavier now, and closed his eyes once more.
The process repeated.
The sensation.
The impulse.
The resistance.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Time passed without shape.
The sun climbed higher, the light growing harsher, the ground warming beneath their feet. Sweat began to form on Leo's skin, sliding down his neck, soaking into his clothes. His breathing grew deeper, slower… more controlled.
Each time the impulse came, it hit hard.
But each time… he held it.
Not perfectly.
Not easily.
But he held it.
Little by little, the difference became clearer.
The energy was still violent…
but it no longer dragged him with it.
—Good, the professor said at last.
Leo opened his eyes.
His vision took a second to adjust to the light. Everything felt sharper. The air, the ground, even the distance between him and the others.
—It's not dragging you anymore, the professor continued.
Leo wiped the sweat from his face with the back of his hand, his chest rising and falling steadily. —… it feels different.
—Because you're containing it, the professor replied. —Not controlling it. Don't confuse the two.
Nando stepped a little closer, still keeping some distance. —So it can still blow up in his face, right?
—Yes, Teodora said without hesitation.
Leo exhaled slowly.
The answer didn't shake him.
If anything, it confirmed what he already felt.
—Then the next step.
The professor watched him in silence for a few seconds, as if deciding whether he was ready.
—The notebook.
Leo reached into his bag and pulled it out.
The worn cover felt familiar in his hands. He opened it carefully, flipping through pages filled with notes, symbols, and sketches until he stopped at one in particular.
A simple diagram.
Clean.
Direct.
A stance.
A direction.
A single movement.
—This one… he murmured, studying it again, —is the most basic.
—For a reason, the professor replied. —If you can't do that one… you can't do anything else.
Leo stepped forward and positioned himself as the drawing showed.
One leg in front.
Knees slightly bent.
His body leaning just enough to keep balance.
His arm extended.
Fingers relaxed.
The wind brushed past him, lifting small traces of dust around his feet.
—Don't strike, the professor said. —Direct it.
Leo closed his eyes briefly.
He focused.
The energy responded immediately.
Stronger now.
Closer.
He reached for it.
Carefully.
Not all of it.
Just a fraction.
Even that felt heavy.
Dense.
Unstable, like something that could slip out of control at any moment.
He guided it.
Pulled it toward his arm.
It resisted.
Shifted.
Pressed back.
His muscles tensed.
His breathing tightened.
But he didn't let go.
—Now.
Leo moved.
A sharp forward motion.
Not a swing.
Not a strike.
A release.
The air in front of him tightened instantly, compressing for a split second—
Then it burst.
A dry, invisible impact exploded outward, kicking up dust and small particles from the ground. The force rippled forward before fading just as quickly.
Silence followed.
Even the wind seemed to pause.
Nando blinked, eyes widening slightly. —… okay, yeah. That was good.
Leo lowered his arm slowly, staring at the space in front of him. —… it actually worked.
The sensation in his arm lingered.
A faint vibration.
Unstable, but contained.
The professor didn't smile.
—Because it's simple.
He let the words settle before continuing.
—But if you make a mistake… that same energy comes back at you.
Leo nodded, more serious now.
He could feel it.
The balance.
The thin line between control… and backlash.
It wasn't just an attack.
It was precision.
Timing.
Restraint.
—What's it called? Nando asked.
Leo glanced at the notebook, then forward again.
—Impulse.
The word felt right.
Simple.
Direct.
Like the technique itself.
The wind moved through the open space once more, brushing past them, carrying the dust into the distance.
And for the first time…
Leo wasn't just resisting what was inside him.
He was learning how to use it.