Chapter 9: I AM NOT JUST BACK—I AM RISING
The days rolled by in quiet rhythm—each sunrise marking another step in Logan’s journey toward mastery.
Every morning, he stood in the center of the training field, the air buzzing faintly with static before he even summoned a spell. Ardyn Vex had wasted no time. After witnessing Logan’s raw affinity with lightning, the Thunder Reaper pushed him harder, but never unreasonably.
"Again," Ardyn called as a faint blue bolt crackled out from Logan’s fingers, zapping the wooden dummy. "Better. Your control’s improving. But you still hesitate before casting. Hesitation can get you killed."
"I’m not scared," Logan replied between breaths, rolling his shoulder. "I’m just making sure it lands where I want it."
Ardyn grunted approvingly. "Good. Precision matters a lot. But learn to cast without thinking too hard. Make it instinct. Let your mana flow like breath."
Logan nodded. He raised his hand again.
Zap!
Another bolt flew, faster this time, with less effort.
Rudeous stood at the edge of the field, arms crossed, silently observing. No one could be sure what he was thinking. Was he happy or worried? Or maybe just amazed? But Alice—standing beside him—watched with shimmering eyes. Pride lit her features every time Logan’s bolt found its mark.
Not far behind them, Darius leaned against a pillar, jaw tight, arms folded. He had an angry look on his face. Like someone just threw a bucket of dirty, nasty water over him.
A servant nearby whispered, "He’s improving fast, isn’t he?"