(Planet Ixtal, Temporary Skyshard Mansion, Leo's POV)
Leo sat quietly beneath the shaded terrace of the Skyside Mansion, his gaze fixed on the training courtyard where his elder son Caleb stood with a wooden practice dagger clutched tightly in small, determined hands.
Across from him, an instructor corrected his stance with patient precision, guiding him through the foundational principles of thrusting, blocking, and jabbing while emphasizing the importance of balanced footwork and controlled breathing.
Caleb was soon going to turn six, and it was Cult tradition that children initiate onto the path of a warrior before joining school, and hence, Amanda had hired a private instructor to get Caleb on par with his peers.
*Slash*
*Jab*
*Thrust*
The movents were simple, almost too easy for Caleb to replicate, and yet they were not perfect, as Leo could instantly see the dozens of micro-mistakes the kid made while copying his instructor.
"The arc is not correct.
The intensity is wrong.
Your shoulder hitches when you pull it back....
Leo thought, as he winced in agony as Caleb lunged forward, the kid's footing slipping mid thrust, as his balance faltered, forcing the instructor to gently reposition his balance so as to keep him from stumbling and crashing onto the stone.
Leo watched in silence.
There was sothing grounding about this sight, sothing almost surreal in its stability.
He had now been ho for nearly three months since the war at The Pit had ended, and in those three months he had spent more ti with his family than he had in the previous decade combined.
He had eaten als at the sa table. He had slept under the sa roof for consecutive weeks. He had even listened to the day to day undertakings of his kids, which were utterly pointless and still interesting.
And he did not dislike it.
In fact, he appreciated it more than he expected.
Running the Cult, shaping policy, guiding expansion, watching his children grow under safer skies than he ever knew in his youth... it all carried a quiet satisfaction.
And yet.
Sothing felt incomplete.
He did not quite know how to articulate it, but the stillness unsettled him in subtle ways.
When he was not chasing improvent, not testing the limits of his body and mind, not standing on the edge of breakthrough, he felt as though he were drifting slightly away from the path that had defined him.
Greatness had never been handed to him through comfort but rather always carved through friction, and hence when he was not improving, he felt oddly stagnant.
*Thrust*
*Shuffle*
His gaze returned to Caleb, who attempted another thrust, this ti landing it more cleanly.
'He's going to have a much better foundation than I ever did...'
Leo thought, as he realized that his children were beginning their journey as a warrior far earlier than he ever had.
For at Caleb's age, Leo had not known what it ant to hold a weapon, let alone train with one.
Back then he had been nothing more than an Earth-born child with
beat down video ga consoles in his hands and no comprehension of the universe's cruelty.
While now, he ruled planets, negotiated with ancient beings and shaped the political order of galaxies.
Every single piece of that ascent had been built upon personal
strength.
Not alliances.
Not politics.
Strength.
So he understood better than anyone that should that foundation ever weaken, everything he had constructed could crumble
overnight.
'I need to master the technique the Tiless Assassin told about when we t.
The manual even he could not comprehend on his road to becoming a Demi-God.
For only by mastering it will I have the most perfect foundation for a breakthrough!
Leo thought, as he recalled his conversation with the Tiless Assassin where he had been introduced to a technique that was allegedly more difficult to master than the Sevenfold Revelation Codex, and more frustrating than the Emperor's Suppression Manual.
*Clench*
Leo's jaw tightened slightly.
The Tiless Assassin had ntioned that not even he could master
that technique back then, and hence Leo wondered if attempting
such a risk was even wise?
And yet.
He couldn't help but feel as though stagnation was a greater risk than failing to comprehend sothing impossible.
*Stumble*
*Wobble*
Caleb stumbled again, losing balance mid-jab before catching himself,
his face flushed with frustration.
Leo recognized that expression instantly.
The refusal to accept diocrity.
The irritation at one's own limitations.
As he realized that he simply wasn't wired for diocrity, as though sothing in his very blood resisted it with all its force.
*Screech*
He rose slowly from his seat.
His expression stern, and his decision made, as although he
recognised the value behind stability, he also knew himself well enough to understand that without pursuing the next frontier of strength, he would slowly beco a lesser version of who he was ant to be.
'Amanda will not be too thrilled about leaving for another expedition... but I have to go!
Leo thought, as he knew very well that leaving again, even briefly,
would reopen old argunts and quiet disappointnts.
But so paths demanded solitude.
So growth required isolation.
The half-written manual still existed, hidden at the remote coordinates the Tiless Assassin had once entrusted to him. A fragnt of sothing unfinished. A challenge that bordered on
madness.
And it was only by mastering it that he could stand above all Demi-Gods at the sa tier, and perhaps gain the strength necessary
to challenge even Gods, as only then could he keep the Cult truly safe
from all enemies.
'It's a path I must take, no matter what...'
Leo thought, as he turned away from the courtyard, Caleb's determined voice echoing faintly behind him, as he firmly made up his mind about the path he would take.
Within the coming week, he would leave Ixtal.
He would retrieve the manual.
And he would begin preparing himself for the next stage of ascension.
Because without the strength to protect everything he was building, it would always be nothing more than a sand castle.
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