Chapter 23: Training for crushing the beast!

Chapter 23: Training for Crushing the Beast!

Leon didn’t move toward the edge. Didn’t raise a hand. Didn’t even consider stepping out. The cocoon still pulsed around him—alive, luminous, thrumming with elemental force—but outside? There was nothing. No pressure. No sound. No movement.

Stillness.

Too quiet.

Which meant only one thing.

It can’t touch me in here.

The monster hadn’t made another move. No attacks. No noise. No hammer swinging into the barrier.

It was waiting. Patient. Focused. Watching.

Leon’s eyes narrowed.

You already tried, didn’t you?

From the silence... from the sheer stillness... he could tell. That thing had attacked the cocoon while he was out cold. Maybe once. Maybe multiple times. But it had failed.

It couldn’t get in.

And he—

He could get out. Easily.

The moment his hand brushed the surface, he knew. He could unseal the mana shell with a thought, shatter it with a twitch. It wasn’t restraining him anymore. It was protecting him.

And that made him pause.

Because the memory of pain was still too sharp.

Just because I’m stronger doesn’t mean I’ll win.

He remembered it perfectly. Every blow. Every crack. Every helpless moment. That creature had broken him like glass—and barely tried doing it.

Even now, with his blood humming, mana roaring through his veins like a storm he could barely contain, Leon didn’t feel overconfident.

He felt sober. Clear.

You don’t get to be stupid just because you leveled up.

So he sat. Cross-legged. Calm. Alert. And focused inward.

Mana. He could feel it now. Finally. After all these years—actual mana pulsing inside his core like a newborn sun. Elemental threads danced in his blood: fire, water, lightning, wind, earth, light, shadow... even stranger forces he couldn’t yet name.

And yet—he didn’t know how to use it. Not properly.

This is no time to strut around glowing like a dumb anime protagonist.

His master—Seraphine—always ended their spars with a short burst of mana-enhanced strikes. A final flurry of motion that made her feel like a living storm, her body burning with clean power.

He’d always wanted to match that. Now? He had mana. He just didn’t have control.

Then that’s what I need. Before anything else.

He exhaled. "I need to learn how to enhance my body," he whispered to himself. "And if I can... maybe control one or two elements well enough to attack and defend"

He stared at his hands—stronger now, steadier. No tremble. No cracks. Just untapped potential.

I’m not going out there until I can weaponize it.

He wasn’t dumb. He wasn’t cocky. He was Leon.

And this time?

He would be ready.

Leon exhaled slowly, eyes still locked on the interior of the cocoon. Then he stood.

His mana surged, steady and pulsing now—like a heartbeat layered beneath his own. It wasn’t raw anymore. It was his.

But power without control was just chaos.

If I’m going to use this... I need to sharpen it. Direct it.

He already knew what to do. The Dimensional Hourglass.

It was time to disappear from the world—just for a while.

Train. Test. Prepare.

But first—he needed to choose. Which elements to focus on.

Ice. That came first.

Before, he hadn’t been able to sense it—only the heat, only the flame. But now, from the faint residual echo still in the air, he could feel the monster’s affinity clearly.

Fire. Twisted and primal, woven into its body like a second skeleton.

So Leon picked the obvious counter.

If fire burned—he’d freeze it.

Ice can slow. Restrain. Break. Attack.

He didn’t need flash. He needed control.

And for the second... he hesitated. Thought about the blur of motion that had ended with him nearly splattered against a wall.

Wind.

The choice was obvious. It wasn’t just about matching the monster’s speed. It was about exceeding it. He wouldn’t be outpaced again. Ever.

Ice and wind. Cold precision and speed.

That was his answer.

"Let’s get to work," he murmured, summoning the Dimensional Hourglass from his soulspace. It shimmered into view—unseen by the world outside—then pulsed once.

The cocoon didn’t resist. In a breath, Leon’s consciousness vanished.

And he remained seated in the cocoon, still pulsing, in his position. Silent. Unbroken. But no longer dormant.

Because inside the Hourglass, time was about to bend.

Leon stood at the center of the hourglass world, bare feet pressing into unmoving stone.

Everything here was still. No sound. No scent. No shift in light. Just endless space, mana-dense air, and time—his time.

He started with the basics.

Mana control. No flashy spells. No attacks. Just enhancement.

He wanted what Seraphine had—when she blurred between strikes, moved like her body didn’t obey the same laws of weight or resistance. He wanted to reinforce his muscles, accelerate reaction, numb pain, sharpen reflex.

So he trained. Every second. Every breath.

No food. No sleep. No rest. Not because he didn’t need them. Because in here? They didn’t exist.

He pushed mana through his limbs, forcing it into muscle, bone, blood. At first, it scattered. Bled off like steam. His form flickered, strength surged then dipped, movements clumsy and inconsistent.

But he kept going. Over. And over. And over.

Two weeks passed inside the hourglass. Or maybe longer.

He didn’t count the days. Only failures. And they were many.

Until—a familiar chime echoed in his head. A blue screen flickered open before him.

[Technique Acquired: Mana Body Enhancement – Novice Rank]

Leon exhaled, wiping phantom sweat from his brow. Not because he was tired. But because his patience was.

"Novice?" he muttered.

He flexed his arms, called mana through his limbs, and enhanced again. It worked. Sort of.

His movements were sharper. His grip tighter. His balance slightly elevated. But the flow was wasteful. Inefficient. Too much mana for too little result.

This is garbage.

This wouldn’t survive one clash with that thing outside.

He clenched his fists. "Not enough."

He wasn’t here for beginner tricks. He was here to win.

So he stepped back. Refocused. And kept going.

Because perfection wasn’t optional anymore.

He didn’t stop. Not after two weeks. Not even after the pain grew worse.

He kept going—for two more months. Time had no meaning inside the hourglass, but he counted the suffering.

His mana-enhanced movements sharpened day by day, but mastery didn’t come cheap. Not even close.

More than once, he overloaded his limbs. Pushed too hard.

His right arm exploded once—ripped apart from elbow to shoulder as raw mana burst through unstable channels. He hit the ground, screaming, bone jutting through charred skin.

But then—it reformed. His body, now bonded with the Orb, healed. Not like the ring’s slow regeneration—this was deeper. Cellular. Elemental. As if the world refused to let him break.

And he took that mercy, that gift, and fed it back into the grind. Over and over again.

Until finally—

[Technique Rank Up: Mana Body Enhancement – Apprentice Rank Achieved]

He opened his eyes. And moved.

The air blurred around him. His body left afterimages even without pushing speed. He punched once.

BOOM

The air cracked. Not with force. With sheer sharpness. Like his fist had sliced it apart.

Power buzzed beneath his skin, humming like a current that finally had somewhere to go.

He grinned. Not wide. Just enough to show satisfaction.

Stronger.

But not enough.

He looked at his hands—steady, glowing faintly.

He wanted more.