As Zephyrion bowed his head slightly, his eyes flickered.
’This is good.’
He had been wary because Warren was an unknown variable, but Garrick was different. The man was far more straightforward.
After yesterday’s assessnt, even with the revelation of his mark, the fact that Garrick had been reassigned here instead of remaining with the Steel division could only an that he had received the man’s approval.
’I won’t have to worry about foul play.’
Garrick was known across the South for his temperant. He was strict to a fault, brutally honest, and above all, fair.
A man who valued strength above politics. There were even stories of him clashing directly with the head of the house because he refused an order.
Though it had ended with him being beaten to a pulp, he still hadn’t caved.
Zephyrion was sure of it; none of the South’s politics would reach this training ground.
"Alright, that’s enough. Raise your heads before your necks give out."
Garrick said with a wide grin, waving a hand dismissively.
"Let’s see what you’re all made of. Strap a hundred-kilogram weight on each limb and start running."
"A-a hundred, instructor? We usually use fifty—"
"...You want to co over there and make it one-fifty?"
"N-no!"
The trainees scattered imdiately under Garrick’s oppressive gaze, scrambling to grab the weights and fasten them onto their limbs without another word.
"Wait. Not you."
Zephyrion, who had just reached for one of the weights, paused. He turned toward Garrick, who was now standing before him with a faint smile.
Unlike the harsh edge he had used on the other trainees, his tone had noticeably softened.
"You’re not doing this with them. Co with ."
"...?"
He stared quietly as the burly man began walking away. A mont later, Zephyrion was led to one side of the training grounds, towards a spot covered by a faint shade.
Garrick turned and pinned him with a serious gaze.
"I’m not going to ask what happened to you all those years. A man keeps his reasons... and his secrets. But I’m not watching soone like you turn into dead weight."
His hand dipped into his clothes, and he brought out an object.
Zephyrion’s eyes fell on it. It was a crude-looking bracelet, unremarkable at first glance, but it carried a faint presence.
’A Relic.’
"What I’m about to put you through won’t be easy. This isn’t normal training. There’s a real chance it does more harm than good... might even break you."
He raised the bracelet slightly, letting it catch the light.
"...But if you can handle it, the payoff’s worth it. I know that firsthand."
He extended his hand, offering it.
"So I’ll leave it to you. Take it, or walk away."
"..."
Zephyrion didn’t move imdiately. He stared at the Relic, then slowly turned to Garrick.
This was a man who embodied the house doctrine to its core, strength through tempering. Soone who wouldn’t hesitate to push those under him to the brink.
For a man like that to issue a warning...
’It’s dangerous.’
However, he had long since lost count of the brutal, near fatal training sessions he had endured within the Order. Pain, strain, risk, none of it was unfamiliar.
More importantly, Garrick’s eyes were clear. There was no hesitation, no deception.
And based on everything Zephyrion had observed so far, if the man deed it worth the risk...
Then it was.
A mont later, Zephyrion gave a slow nod.
"...Alright."
A smile spread across Garrick’s face, and he nodded in approval. He motioned toward a spot along the wall.
"Good. Sit."
As Zephyrion sat cross-legged, Garrick stared at him, his eyes now serious.
"Listen carefully. This relic will bind your mind to the WorldPulse. It’ll force you to process more than you can handle... overload you. That pressure is what makes your mind adapt. Grow."
"The first ti is the worst. You’ll want to break out of it... don’t." Garrick continued. "Your first goal is simple, be able to form even one clear thought under the strain. Once you can do that, we move forward. Understood?"
"I do."
"Good. Hold out your arm... and close your eyes."
Zephyrion extended his arm and closed his eyes. A mont later, he felt the cold press of tal against his skin as Garrick fastened the bracelet around his wrist.
For a brief mont... nothing happened.
Then, a violent surge slamd into his mind.
Zephyrion instinctively clenched his teeth. It felt like an overwhelming flood of information had crashed over him.
The scent of the air. The exact number of sand particles beneath him. Every single strand of hair on his body.
It was too much.
He could barely form any thought. Barely think.
Instinctively, Zephyrion began drawing in slow, controlled breaths as he tried to sort through everything.
It was like a constant stream of sound blaring in his mind. Intense, unsettling, forcing his mind to work harder than it ever had.
But as ti passed, since he was sitting still with his eyes closed, he soon began to run out of things to process, and the noise began to recede.
Still, Zephyrion focused entirely on getting used to the strain.
...
Holding the relic over Zephyrion’s wrist, Garrick gave his nephew one last look before fastening it shut.
He stepped back imdiately, careful not to interfere.
’How will he handle it?’
Garrick couldn’t help but rember the ti he used it in his youth.
On the first try, he had blacked out instantly, unable to handle the initial flood.
’He’ll probably faint too.’
As the faint hum began to ripple through the air, Garrick’s gaze sharpened, locking onto Zephyrion.
’It’s starting.’
Zephyrion’s head suddenly jerked back against the wall. His body began to tremble, and he clenched his fists as veins snaked up his neck and body.
Monts later, the boy began to inhale and exhale rapidly, then eventually cald down.
Garrick blinked.
’Huh?’
His eyes widened slightly.
The boy’s breathing was labored, and a bit of sweat matted his forehead, but he was still conscious!
Even more, as the seconds passed, the tension in his body began to ease. The pronounced veins slowly receded and his breathing stabilized bit by bit.
He was... adjusting. And far faster than he should have been.
Garrick could only stare.
’This boy...’
He had to press his palm against his mouth to stop himself from laughing out loud. The last thing he wanted was to disturb the process.
With a thought, Garrick erected a formless barrier around Zephyrion to prevent any noise from the other trainees from reaching him. He returned to the platform a mont later, a large grin on his face.
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