Chapter 410. Stop Trying to Be the Hunter, Start Being the Prey
The first session commenced that same afternoon, under a sky that seemed to hold its breath as if anticipating the violence to come.
They retreated to a secluded training courtyard, a space of cracked stone and ancient training dummies, scarred by years of countless blades and magical misfires. The air here felt heavier, charged with the residual energy of past lessons.
Selena didn’t waste time with pleasantries. Her demeanor had shifted completely from the teasing friend to a cold, exacting instructor.
She stood at the center of the courtyard, her posture relaxed yet coiled like a viper ready to strike, her eyes tracking every minute movement of William’s body.
"This isn’t about strength, William, and it’s certainly not about technique," Selena began, her voice carrying across the stones with sharp authority. "You’re used to commanding your body, to forcing your muscles into perfect alignment."
"Magic is the opposite. You cannot command it... You can only invite it."
She paced a slow circle around him, her boots clicking against the stone. "Close your eyes... Now."
William obeyed, shutting out the sunlight. The world vanished into darkness, leaving him with only the sounds of distant birds and the rustle of wind through nearby trees.
"Feel for the current," Selena instructed, her voice dropping to a low, commanding murmur. "It’s there, moving constantly around you, even when the air itself seems perfectly still."
"Most people describe it as a kind of subtle pressure, a faint hum just beneath ordinary perception... Like the heartbeat of the world itself."
William focused. He pushed his awareness outward, trying to extend his senses beyond his own skin.
He strained, his jaw tightening as he searched for something—anything that felt different from the physical world. He searched for a hum, a pressure, a vibration.
’Come on... There has to be something,’ William thought. ’I can sense the wind on my face, I can feel the heat of the sun on my neck... but beneath that?’
’Nothing. Just empty space.’
’Is she playing with me? No, Selena doesn’t play when it comes to this.’
’But there’s nothing here but air.’
Minutes passed. The silence stretched between them, taut as a bowstring.
Sweat began to bead at his temples despite the mild weather.
"Anything?" Selena asked. Her voice sounded closer now, as if she had closed the distance without him hearing.
"Nothing," William admitted, his voice rough with frustration. "I feel the wind, but I don’t feel... whatever it is you’re talking about."
"It’s just empty."
"That’s because you’re hunting it like prey, William," Selena snapped, the sudden sharpness in her tone making him flinch. "You’re treating mana like an enemy to be captured or a tool to be seized."
"You’re approaching it with the same aggression you use with your sword."
A sudden gust of wind swept through the courtyard. Whoosh, and for a split second, William felt a strange, almost imperceptible shiver crawl across his skin. But as quickly as it came, it vanished.
"Try again," she commanded, her tone softening slightly but remaining unyielding. "This is your first mistake: you’re straining."
"You’re trying to grab hold of something that exists in a different state of being. Mana flow responds poorly to force."
"If you try to strangle it, it will simply slip through your fingers like water."
"If you try to crush it like an opponent, it will dissipate."
She stepped directly into his space, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating from her body. "Relax your focus... Don’t reach toward it."
"Let it come to you. Stop being a soldier for one moment and start being a vessel."
William took a deep breath, forcing his shoulders to drop, trying to shed the instinctive tension that had been his armor for years. He sank deeper into the darkness behind his eyelids.
’A vessel. Not a weapon...’ William thought. "And also not a hunter, but a... vessel."
"Again," Selena whispered, almost like a dare. "Don’t look for the current."
"Become part of the river."
William plunged back into the darkness behind his eyelids, but this time, the effort felt less like a meditation and more like a war of attrition against his own mind. Sweat rolled down his temple, stinging his eye, but he refused to flinch.
He pushed harder, digging through layers of sensory data—the smell of dry stone, the distant chirp of a sparrow, and the faint creak of wind through the courtyard trees—searching for that elusive ’hum’ Selena insisted was there.
Minutes stretched into what felt like hours. His muscles began to twitch from the prolonged stillness, a low-grade ache spreading through his calves and lower back.
His jaw was clenched so tight it felt like his teeth might crack.
’Damn it... Where is it? ’William thought. ’She makes it sound so simple, like breathing.’
’But this feels like trying to hear a whisper in the middle of a hurricane.’
’If I can’t even sense the air itself, how am I supposed to command it?’
From the sidelines, the sound of light footsteps against stone signaled Selena’s approach. He could sense her presence not through mana, but through the sheer aura of confidence she projected.
"You look like you’re trying to catch a fish with your bare hands in a pond that has no fish in it," Selena observed.
A genuine laugh broke through her instructor persona, bright and teasing.
William didn’t open his eyes. He couldn’t afford to break the fragile thread of concentration he was trying to weave.
"That’s oddly specific," he muttered through gritted teeth.
"It’s oddly accurate," Selena countered, her voice dripping with amusement. "Your whole posture is straining toward something that isn’t there."
"Look at you, William. Even with your eyes closed, I can see the tension radiating off you."
"You’ve got your shoulders up around your ears like you’re bracing for a crossbow bolt rather than trying to sense something as gentle as an ambient current."
"This is genuinely more difficult than I expected," William admitted, exhaling a long, ragged breath.
He consciously forced his shoulders to drop, rolling them in a slow circle to fight off the stiffness that was beginning to set in. "I thought this would be a matter of focus."
"I didn’t realize it was a matter of... surrender."
"Most swordsmen find it that way at first," Selena said.
Her tone shifted slightly; the amusement remained, but a layer of genuine understanding settled beneath it. "You’ve spent your entire life learning how to impose your will upon the world."
"You plant your feet, you grip your blade, you force your body into positions that defy comfort to achieve maximum lethality."
"In combat, that aggression is your greatest asset."
She stepped closer, her shadow falling across him like a cool shroud. "But magic?"
"Magic is a different beast entirely."
"Magic doesn’t submit to being conquered... It punishes that instinct."
"If you try to grab it with that same iron grip you use on your sword, it will recoil."
"It will slip through your fingers like smoke, or worse, it will backlash and tear through your own pathways like jagged glass."
A sudden, sharp gust of wind Whoosh swept through the courtyard, whipping William’s hair across his forehead. For a heartbeat, he felt a strange prickling sensation on his skin, not the wind itself, but something sharper, more electric.
’There... That prickle.’
’Was that it? No, don’t latch onto it.’
’Don’t chase it... That’s what she said.’
’Don’t hunt it."
"You have to invite it, William," Selena continued, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You cannot command the storm; you must become the eye of it."
"You have to learn to create a void within yourself that the mana feels compelled to fill."
"Stop trying to be the hunter."
She paused, letting the lesson sink in. "Start being the prey..."
"Let the current find you."