Chapter 5: A Sister's Surveillance, a Mountain of Stupidity, and the Body That Refused to Stay Normal
Lyra Emberheart had a problem.
No.
Correction.
Lyra Emberheart had a suspicious idiot-shaped problem.
She stood in the hallway outside her brother's room, arms crossed, eyes narrowed like a predator analyzing prey.
"…That useless guy," she muttered.
For the past several weeks, something had been off.
Calix Emberheart—the same brother who used to sleep until noon, skip meals, complain about training, and generally exist like a decorative houseplant—had changed.
He woke up early.
Too early.
He left his room quietly.
And worse?
He came back exhausted.
Sweaty.
Bruised.
And instead of whining, he… ate.
A lot.
Which was disturbing.
"Where does he even go?" Lyra whispered.
She tapped her foot.
Did her words that day finally break him?
Stop wasting your time on shit like me.
The memory made her frown.
"…Tch."
She didn't mean to crush him.
Mostly.
Maybe.
But still—
"He doesn't laze around anymore."
Her golden eyes sharpened.
"Suspicious."
So she decided to investigate.
---
Operation: Follow the Idiot
Lyra waited.
Patiently.
Painfully.
She had been up since dawn, hiding behind a pillar like a criminal, watching Calix's door like it owed her money.
"This is stupid," she muttered. "I have training."
Five minutes passed.
Ten.
Twenty.
Just as she was about to leave—
The door opened.
Calix stepped out.
Lyra froze.
He wore simple clothes. No noble insignia. No accessories.
And he looked… focused.
No yawning.
No slouching.
Just quiet determination.
"…What is this?" she whispered.
She ducked behind the corner as he walked down the corridor.
Lyra followed.
Carefully.
Like a professional stalker.
Which she absolutely was not.
Calix exited the main wing.
Then the gardens.
Then—
"Wait," Lyra frowned. "Why are you going there?"
Toward the old auxiliary grounds.
The abandoned area.
The place nobody used.
Her suspicion skyrocketed.
"…Did he join some secret cult?"
She crept closer.
Peeking.
Sneaking.
Tripping once and almost dying when a bird looked at her wrong.
Finally—
She reached the edge of the old training yard.
And saw him.
---
The Stupidest Thing She Had Ever Witnessed
Lyra blinked.
Once.
Twice.
"…Is he an idiot?"
Calix stood in the middle of the dirt yard.
Shirtless.
Covered in sweat.
Chains wrapped around his torso.
Stones tied to his legs.
He dropped.
Push-ups.
Slow.
Controlled.
Painful.
His arms shook violently.
He collapsed.
Stood back up.
Did it again.
Lyra stared.
"…What."
He ran.
Weighted.
Collapsed.
Stood up.
Ran again.
She watched in silence as her brother tortured himself like a lunatic.
Her expression twisted.
"…This is what he's been doing?"
She rubbed her face.
"Idiot. Absolute idiot."
She leaned against the wall.
"He could be training magic."
He collapsed again.
"Or swordsmanship."
He forced himself up.
"But nooo," she muttered sarcastically. "Let's do useless physical torture that doesn't matter in a world ruled by mana."
She yawned.
"I waited all morning for this?"
He lifted a massive stone overhead.
His arms screamed.
Lyra scoffed.
"What a waste of time. For him. And for me."
She turned away.
"…Tch. He hasn't changed at all."
As she left—
She didn't notice something subtle.
The ground beneath Calix's feet had cracked.
Just slightly.
---
Months Pass
The academy was still a year away.
Which meant—
No deadlines.
No observers.
No expectations.
And for Calix Emberheart?
No excuses.
Months passed like sweat dripping onto dirt.
Every day.
Same routine.
Morning: brutal physical training.
Midday: stretching, balance drills, breath control.
Night: recovery, nutrition, sleep.
And slowly—
Very slowly—
Things changed.
His body hardened.
Muscles thickened unnaturally fast.
Reflexes sharpened.
His movements became efficient.
Precise.
Controlled.
The pain?
Still there.
But manageable.
And then came the real discovery.
---
The Loophole That Shouldn't Exist
One evening, Calix sat cross-legged, palms on his knees, breathing slowly.
"…Alright," he muttered. "Time to experiment."
His magic affinity was trash.
But trash didn't mean nonexistent.
It meant inefficient.
Mana flowed through him like water through a broken pipe.
Which was useless for spells.
But—
He focused.
Instead of pushing mana outward…
He pulled it inward.
Into his muscles.
Bones.
Tendons.
"…Oh."
The sensation was subtle.
But real.
His mana—weak, thin, pathetic—spread through his body.
Not to cast.
But to reinforce.
His muscles tightened.
His perception sharpened.
He stood.
Lifted a stone.
It felt…
Light.
"…No way."
He added more mana.
His body hummed.
The stone cracked.
Calix stared.
"…You're kidding me."
Mana efficiency.
Low capacity.
But perfect control.
Every drop mattered.
Every thread reinforced his body instead of being wasted on flashy spells.
The author never considered this.
Because Calix never lived long enough to try.
---
The Results
Weeks later—
Calix punched a training post.
The post shattered.
He blinked.
"…Oops."
He sprinted.
Faster than before.
Leapt.
Higher.
Landed silently.
"…This is stupid."
He laughed.
The kind of laugh that came from disbelief.
"I'm breaking the rules."
And that's when—
Lyra noticed again.
---
Lyra Notices Too Late
Lyra watched from the balcony as Calix passed below.
She frowned.
"…Has he always walked like that?"
His posture was straight.
Balanced.
Confident.
No wasted motion.
No dragging feet.
Her instincts screamed.
"…Wait."
She remembered the abandoned yard.
The chains.
The stones.
"…That idiot."
Her grip tightened.
"…He wasn't wasting time."
A chill ran down her spine.
"Don't tell me…"
Calix stopped suddenly.
Turned.
Looked straight at her.
Lyra nearly jumped out of her skin.
"…!"
He waved.
Casually.
She froze.
"…He noticed?"
Her heart pounded.
Calix smiled faintly.
Then walked away.
Lyra stared.
"…What did you do, brother?"
---
Calix Emberheart
Back in the yard, Calix clenched his fist.
Mana flowed.
Muscles reinforced.
The ground cracked under his feet.
He grinned.
"Good."
"Very good."
Academy was still a year away.
Kyle Garfield was still shining somewhere else.
Evelyn was still waiting in the future.
But for the first time—
Calix Emberheart wasn't at the bottom.
And the scariest part?
No one noticed.
Yet.