Marc was slumped on the ground, like a rag doll. His body barely responded to his commands. A stabbing pain ran through all his limbs, and he was out of breath. He was soaked in sweat and covered in dirt. His throat, parched, screamed for drops of water.
And this is how the demon who came to save the world dies. I couldn't even complete my first goal of starting the journey.
With great reluctance, he raised his hand and, without saying a word, conjured the spell to launch a jet of water into his mouth. But he was interrupted by the shadow: a large piece of rock the size of his body was coming toward him at full speed. Marc had to force himself to use his last remaining strength to be able to dodge the rock, succeeding by mere centimeters.
"You are forbidden to drink water until you finish the training," Silas's voice was heard saying.
"Are you trying to kill me, old man? That rock almost crushed me!" Marc hissed, furious.
"Your training was so weak that barely a little exertion is costing you too much. You are stronger than most in this world; you should be able to do this training without problems and more," Silas replied.
"Maybe my training isn't very demanding by your standards, but it's my first approach to magic. I'm learning something that doesn't even exist in my world," Marc, deciding to trust Silas, told him his origin and his conversation with the God Amir.
"I know you think you have plenty of time, and then some, but that is not the case. Those years will fly by so fast that, before you know it, you will have that Hero standing in front of you. In these hundred years, you will go through countless unforeseen events, and you won't always have time to train. You have much to learn and improve in this year before you leave," Silas explained.
I understand that you are demanding, but even being a demon, I have a limit. I can't suddenly start doing an expert's training overnight.
"I know, I understand what you are saying. If my confrontation with the pack of wolves taught me anything, it's that I still need to improve, but I think I should start little by little, one step at a time, not train as if I had already been doing it for ten years," Marc was at his limit, and his body was no longer responding.
"I took everything you are telling me into account to prepare the training you are currently doing; otherwise, it would have been impossible for you to follow the training I would have prepared if I considered you an experienced person," Silas said.
He's messing with me. I can't even move anymore.
"Furthermore, the matter of your fight with the wolves is something that shouldn't have happened at all," Silas continued. "One of the things I told you is that you must learn how to use magic: wolves are afraid of fire. If you had conjured fire from the start, they would have fled from you without even having to have a confrontation. But you know none of this, even though it is knowledge found in the books I left in the cabin. You went hunting, recklessly venturing into the dangers of the forest without first preparing yourself with information about the creatures of this world. Tell me, have you read any book that isn't a grimoire?"
"Of course, I have, but there are so many of them; I hadn't gotten to that section," Marc replied quickly, and seriously.
But that was a complete fabrication; he hadn't even touched a book that wasn't a grimoire.
"Knowledge is a fundamental part of your training, just as important as improving your magic and your physique. You must know your enemy; not only their weaknesses, but also their strengths. Learning what type of magic to use or not to use against each monster is essential for survival," Silas said, as flames formed in his palms, which he hurled at Marc without warning.
Marc dodged the flames by throwing himself to the floor. But he got no respite: another rock, just as big as the last, was already three feet above him. He dodged it by rolling across the floor. He managed to regain his footing, but immediately, a jet of water approached at high speed. Marc threw himself to the side, but the edge of the attack managed to wet his arm. He was barely steadied when a violent current of air almost sent him flying, but once again, Marc managed to dodge it at the last second.
Ha! He couldn't hit me with wind magic this time. He won't get the same move twice.
A victorious smile appeared on Marc's face, when something invisible slammed him from above with tremendous force against the ground. He was left completely paralyzed, unable to move no matter how hard he tried.
"Not only elemental magic serves to defeat your enemies. You must also learn to block. Not just rolling on the ground and dodging with stupid movements," Silas said firmly.
"What are you doing to me, gramps?" Marc asked, feeling a great pressure all over his body that prevented him from standing up.
"It is gravity magic. The gravity on you is now twenty times the norm."
"Alright, but maybe that's enough now. You're crushing me," Marc tried to move, but it was impossible.
"Get out of there yourself," Silas walked patiently with his staff.
What the hell is he talking about? I can't even move!
"Are you crazy? I can barely withstand the pressure on my body, you can stop using the magic now!" Marc said, desperate.
"Your body is capable of withstanding it, and not only that, but of moving too. Use all necessary means to exit the area affected by my magic," Silas stood in front of him, watching.
Move? I think this old man has the wrong idea about the strength I possess.
Use all necessary means? He says that as if it were easy; I can't do anything in this state.
Marc continued trying with all his strength, but he had only managed to move his arms and feet slightly. A feeling of rage began to surge through his entire being.
Go to hell! You decrepit old man, I'm going to show you my strength and what I'm capable of!
His eyes shone with intensity, and his body began to move more and more. From the ground, he launched pieces of dirt and rock against Silas. The first was dodged by Silas, who merely moved his head, and the others crashed into what looked like an invisible barrier in front of him. But Marc didn't stop there: he invoked two giant jets of water aimed at Silas's sides. But Silas didn't flinch, and the water crashed against the magical barrier once more.
Marc, determined not to give up, invoked earth magic once more, raising Silas six feet up with an earth pillar. Silas countered the attack, destroying the pillar and slowly falling with Wind Magic. Marc yelled with all his might and crawled with effort out of the gravity zone. As soon as he managed it, he invoked ice spikes from his palms aimed at Silas, but an invisible force interrupted the magic and undid it in the air while it was still being invoked.
Did he neutralize my magic? Is that even possible?
Silas noticed Marc's surprised expression. "There are still too many things to learn, and one year is little time. We'll leave it here for today, but tomorrow your training will continue. We will also start with your physical training and you will learn to use the sword. I will bring a wooden one that I have in my hut."
"A sword? If I learn powerful magic, I don't think I'll need to use weapons; it would be wasting my time, time I can use to continue learning magic. It's the same with my physique: if I learn to use the magical barrier you just used, I won't need to worry," Marc said.
"A magic wielder cannot always depend on the same thing. A person who aspires to greatness cannot be limited to using magic for everything. Magic facilitates many aspects of your life, but there will be times when you will need to rely on other means. It is important that you learn to use weapons and improve your physical strength and condition," Silas said, lightly tapping Marc's side with his staff.
I wish I could disagree with him, but I think he's right this time. If I can't use my magic for some reason, I would be defenseless if I don't know how to do anything else.
"You will also have to read all the books in the bookcase. You have one year; if I were you, I would hurry a bit," Silas started walking toward the forest.
"It's not possible for me to do everything. The day won't be long enough for all the training and reading too," Marc said in an annoyed tone.
"You can't fool me, Marc. I know you haven't touched any of the other books. You have plenty of time at night. Besides, you will have one rest day a week from training; I suggest you use that day to read everything you can. If you haven't read anything tomorrow, I will make you train double, and so it will be every day," Silas said, without saying anything else and walking deeper into the forest.
Training magic and my body, learning to use weapons, and reading all the hundreds of books in the cabin... that truly is a lot of work! I think it's more than I had in my old life... Pfff, I'm starting to feel a little lazy.
But you can't turn back, Marc. You said it: this would be my best life, no matter the cost, and I must fulfill it.
The few remaining hours of the day were spent immersed in rest. His body couldn't take any more; Silas's last attack had left his neck stiff and sore. That afternoon he prepared a simple dinner, as he had no energy for anything complex. He made roasted potatoes directly on the embers, served with toast spread with butter and herbs from the garden.
He took a large mug and poured beer from the wooden barrel, watching the foam form. Then, raising his hand effortlessly, he conjured a thin layer of elemental ice over the glass, causing the liquid to cool instantly. The cold beer was a luxury that his magical training allowed him. He was so thirsty that he emptied the entire mug in one long gulp.
"Ahhhh, what a delight!" Marc said with a grimace of satisfaction on his face.
This beer was probably the only good thing about my day. I'm going to christen this new training from Silas the Hellish Training.
At the end of his dinner, Marc reached out to the bookcase. Reluctantly and without enthusiasm, he took the first book his fingers found at random. He didn't want to risk double training the next day.
The book he held was a thick volume from human territory, titled "The History of the Ascent of the Kingdom of Holy Law." Its pages recounted the first years of the kingdom's formation: starting as a simple merchant town south of the territory belonging to the Kingdom of the Ancient Pact, it gained independence in the year five hundred fifty of the Lord Amir, after a bloody war for power among the nobles of the territory that lasted thirty years, until the victorious side crowned the first King.
Fifty years after its founding, the first Great Church was erected in the name of the God Amir: an enormous structure, about fifty meters high, adorned with gold and filigree. The book mentioned a well-structured religion with a Cardinal at the apex of the church hierarchy, whose origin, according to the book, was the word given directly by the God Amir to a priest of the kingdom.
Yeah, right. The God Amir told me that humans created the religion in their own way and with their own rules.
The book did not focus on what the religion professed, but rather confined itself to narrating the history of the kingdom, with one sole exception: it mentioned how, thanks to the divine word and prophecies granted by the God Amir, a war had been initiated against the Demon King of antiquity, and how the first Hero defeated him, leaving the demon territory without a king for more than one hundred and fifty years.
The Demon King of antiquity and the first hero... I wonder how many "heroes" have existed. It could be an eternal cyclical confrontation between these heroes and the demon king in turn... and in a hundred years, it will be mine.
Marc continued his reading for one more hour until boredom and sleep completely overcame him. He left the book open on the table on the page where he had stopped and lay down, feeling more exhausted than any other day in that world. The arms of Morpheus did not delay in enveloping him in a deep and restorative sleep.