"Ah, I'm exhausted. This training curve is a bit much, isn't it?"
Alistair sat on a stone stool, slowly kneading his shoulders, arms, and calves to soothe the deep ache in his muscles.
On the first day, the weights were only a few dozen pounds. By the second day, they had jumped to nearly two hundred. From the second day onward, Uncle Takai had introduced the gravity bracers, which distributed the weight evenly, making it manageable. But by the third day, the pressure surged to a thousand pounds, and today, on the fourth day, it had exceeded that mark. Alistair could hardly believe his own body was withstanding such crushing force through sheer physical grit.
The only continuous physical enhancement ability Alistair possessed was [Partial Traits of the Twelve Labors]. He had originally thought it was a mediocre skill, but its potential was proving to be immense.
He wasn't a die-hard Type-Moon fan, so while he knew of Gilgamesh's "Golden King" vibes, he knew very little about the details of Heracles' "God Hand" or "Twelve Labors." The system's explanation had been vague, leading him to underestimate it. Now, seeing the results of the training, he realized that even a fragment of a god's power was top-tier.
Alistair stood up and stretched, his torso now defined by sharp, powerful muscle lines. Over the last few days, his physique had hardened, and his features had followed suit. His face hadn't fundamentally changed, but the soft, almost pretty-boy aesthetic had been replaced by a rugged, masculine edge. It was a look that radiated a dangerous, dominant charm.
"It seems your bloodline is far from simple," Takai said, walking out of the house with a glass bottle containing a viscous, crimson liquid that looked like chili oil. "But that's none of my business. My job is just to teach you what I know."
"I'm actually just an ordinary guy," Alistair said after a moment of silence. Technically, his powers came from a "cheat," so he wasn't lying—at least not in his own head.
"Right. Ordinary," Takai replied with a mocking, knowing grin.
"..." Alistair saw the smile and knew he wasn't believed, but he didn't care. "Uncle, what's in the bottle? Chili oil?"
"This? This is for your fire-element mana training. It's too weak for someone of my level, so you might as well have it." Takai shook the bottle, the red oil swirling inside.
"Fire-element training?" Alistair looked at the "chili oil," feeling skeptical.
"What, you looking down on it? This stuff is 'Elemental Grease.' It's basically compressed fire mana. It enhances your affinity and understanding of the element. If your current mana is a firecracker, this stuff is a demolition charge. It'll stay effective until you reach a much higher stage of power."
Takai knew the quality of Alistair's mana—it was already at the level of a high-tier apprentice—so he used that as a benchmark for the explanation.
"Whoa, that's impressive," Alistair muttered.
"I only have half a bottle left. Use it wisely. With your constitution, it should yield great results." Takai handed over the bottle and then produced a hexagonal crystal.
"This is a Recording Crystal. It contains records of my other spells and my personal insights. Use this to study from now on." Takai placed the crystal in Alistair's palm.
"Oh, by the way, Uncle," Alistair remembered the crimson armor and blade. "What was that spell you used to make the armor? It didn't seem like [Flame Shroud]."
"That? That's Projection Magic. Usually, it's a utility spell used to manifest temporary weapons. While there's technically no upper limit to the strength of what you can project, the mana consumption during combat is staggering. It's not practical for long battles. My real armor was damaged, so I used Projection just to keep up appearances. It's in the crystal; you can learn it yourself."
Takai demonstrated by projecting a gauntlet onto his arm—identical to the one Alistair had seen on the mountain.
"I still recommend getting a real weapon. [Flame Shroud] is far more efficient. I only use Projection when I'm bullying small fry." Takai dissipated the gauntlet.
"Got it." Alistair felt a bit piqued at the "small fry" comment, but he couldn't argue. He wasn't even "Transcendent" yet. Compared to an old-school powerhouse like Takai, he was a novice.
"Alright, practice on your own. I'm going out for a drink." Takai waved and headed toward the local izakaya.
Alistair watched him go, speechless. Takai wasn't even pretending anymore; he left the inn to his wife, Nanaha, while he went to drink and brag.
"Nn... haaa..." "Hah... Hah... Chitose..."
Alistair was walking down the hallway toward his room when he heard it—heavy, rhythmic breathing and sharp gasps coming from behind a door. He knew those sounds all too well.
Did she bring a boyfriend home? he wondered. But then he realized the voice calling Chitose's name was definitely female.
Wait... a girl? Is that Aoi? Damn, so they're lilies?