Chapter 2
Days turned into weeks.
Weeks into months.
And the cycle never stopped.
Night.
Break.
Heal.
Exhaust.
Sleep.
Morning.
Recover.
Repeat.
At first, it was unconscious.
Then curiosity.
Then…
Obsession.
Rudeus began experimenting.
What happens if I move more?
What happens if I push harder?
What happens if I don't stop?
Even as a baby—
He trained.
Not like a warrior.
But like a scientist dissecting his own body.
His arms moved more.
His legs kicked harder.
His breathing deepened.
Every action deliberate.
Every motion measured.
And every night—
His mana disappeared.
Zenith began to worry.
"Paul… don't you think Rudy sleeps too deeply?"
Paul shrugged.
"He's just a baby."
But Paul didn't see it.
Couldn't see it.
Because Rudeus never trained when others were watching.
He waited.
Always waited.
Until the world went quiet.
And then—
He pushed himself further.
Muscle fibers tore deeper now.
The pain?
Still there.
Dull.
Distant.
Almost… irrelevant.
Because immediately—
Mana surged.
Healing magic activated instinctively.
No chant.
No incantation.
Just will.
"…So this is healing magic."
Even without formal training—
He was using it.
Refining it.
Perfecting it.
And slowly—
His body began to change.
Not visibly.
Not yet.
But inside—
His muscles grew denser.
More efficient.
More resilient.
And his mana—
Expanded.
Every night he emptied it.
Every morning it returned… larger.
By the time he could crawl—
Rudeus Greyrat had already begun walking a path no mage—
No swordsman—
Had ever walked before.