Prologue [Part 3] - Started hard training

On the same day.

At 14.02 pm.

....

Under the overcast sky, a towering figure, his well-defined muscles subtly hinted beneath his bronzed skin, embarked on a leisurely stroll through the village streets. Clutched firmly in his grasp was a sleek briefcase, safeguarding a treasure trove of vital document. The man, a paragon of the human race, sported a striking ensemble that turned heads at every corner, his jet-black hair complementing the elegant formality of his attire. His penetrating mocha-brown eyes keenly observed the bustling villagers, shifting ceaselessly, as they frantically raised their clotheslines in anticipation of the impending hard rain or storm, a moment of collective preparation.

"Hey there, Deputy Village Head! Check out this awesome weather, right?" exclaimed a chubby uncle, his beard as wild as bush, while he lounged on a bench in his yard, grinning warmly as he greeted him.

"Absolutely splendid! The sky has graced us with a delightful afternoon. Oh, and a gentle reminder, do retrieve your trusty clothesline before the rain's gentle tears hit the ground," the robust gentleman greeted with a warm, welcoming grin.

"Hahaha, oh man, you too! Don't forget to rescue your undies from the rain's clutches, or they might turn into some funky, moldy fashion statement!"

"Don't fret, my dear undergarments receive the utmost royal treatment and pampering!"

"Hahahaha!" The chubby uncle and the big man laughed together.

....

After walking for 15 minutes, the gentleman arrived at his residence. There, he noticed two children engaged in a leisurely activity in his yard: they were playing a game that involved tossing bricks. This particular game, characterized by the act of throwing bricks, is a customary recreation often enjoyed by children. If one of the participants successfully struck a stack of bricks, the other child would then be tasked with repositioning the bricks and attempting to identify the hidden thrower in different locations.

Those two are inseparable, forever entwined in their playful adventures, a sight to behold. Despite his weary demeanor and the murmurs of solitude, a faint, resilient grin painted across the man's face.

....

"Feline, Papa has returned home!" shouted the man, who is Feline's paternal figure, while waving his right hand with a joyful expression.

"Ah, welcome back, Papa!" With a burst of childlike enthusiasm, Feline swiftly abandoned the brick in her hands, dashing towards her father with an infectious grin that could rival the sun's warmth.

Feline's father lovingly embraced his daughter as she leaped into his arms, showering her with affection and stroking his daughter's head, remarked, "I have been working for a short duration, and it seems you already yearn for my presence."

"Absolutely! When Papa heads off to daily works, a tinge of lonely creeps in, leaving me and Mommy to hold down the fort at our lively tavern."

"Ah, I see. Well, prepare for a day filled with endless purr-sistence from Papa!"

Feline wriggled out of her father's hug, looked at him, "Nero's got a wishlist for you; he's itching for some training, Papa."

"Nero? Want to be trained by me?"

Nero felt the weight of Feline's father's gaze—a moment filled with unspoken stories and a quiet understanding that passed between them.

"Uncle Jenni, I humbly request your guidance and training, as I aspire to embark on the path of becoming a distinguished adventurer." Nero gracefully lowered his body in a gesture of respect.

"...." Jenni—Feline's dad strolled over to Nero, eyeing him with a serious intensity, "Before we dive into the adventurous abyss, spill the beans on your ultimate quest. What fuels your fire as you embark on the grand journey of the adventurer?"

Nero responded with a determined expression, stating, "My objective is to conquer the continent of Grimfield. Following that, I intend to establish restaurants on a global scale."

"Oh... Ambition coursing through your veins, Nero. Yet, heed this: the realm of adventurers isn't a picturesque haven; it's a fiery abyss where loss, fear, anxiety, madness, and despair dance hand in hand."

"Nevertheless, I am prepared to undertake the risk. This might appear as an understatement; however, I hold firm faith in my determination," Nero said.

"If you find yourself stuck in a funk, teetering on the edge of madness, I'll swoop in for a rendezvous and give your noggin a gentle head-punching. After all, I can't let the martial wisdom and my skill I've bestowed upon you go to waste!"

"I understand, Uncle Jenni. I swear I won't disappoint you!"

"Alright, I'm gonna take a quick hour nap, then we'll grab our stuff and head to the plateau. Get ready, boy!"

"Okay, thanks Uncle Jenni."

With a fleeting grin, Uncle Jenni pirouetted away from Nero, ushering in a warm welcome to his beloved wife within the enchanting confines of the tavern.

....

Feline gracefully reached Nero, giving his right shoulder a gentle tap. With a determined tone, she uttered, "My Papa wears a smile, a facade masking the shadows of his past. Adventuring demands facing the abyss of hell, it's a realm where one forfeits soul and body, mind and sanity, loyalty and bonds; where lovers and comrades fade. Embrace sacrifice in all its forms, or risk plunging into the abyss yourself."

"...." Nero stood in hushed contemplation, absorbing Feline's words. Bowing his head, he mustered the courage to embrace the impending challenges that lay ahead.

"Promise me, Nero, that should you encounter adversity akin to hell, you will not bow your head in despair. Instead, elevate it steadfastly towards the expansive sky, irrespective of its clarity, for above, a benevolent deity awaits, bestowing hope upon you."

Nero found himself utterly captivated by Feline's words, his jaw dropping in sheer surprise. As he gazed at Feline, he couldn't help but be entranced, his eyes drifting from her face to the mysterious expanse of the cloudy sky. A moment later, he returned his gaze to Feline, a warm and charming smile gracing his lips.

"I promise to gaze at the sky when facing hard challenges. Feline, please assure me you won't lower your head during tough times too."

"Fear not, for I have encountered numerous adversities, thus becoming accustomed to such occurrences."

"Really? Despite the tranquil existence you have led thus far, a perpetual serenity graces your countenance. Your smile, in my perception, emanates authenticity."

"Let thoughts of me escape your mind. Focus on your fabulous self. Fun fact: my Papa hails from the mighty Sparlex tribe, known for their strict vibes. Even at your tender age of six, he's all about challenging you with seriously intense training sessions."

"No issue at all. This aligns precisely with my intent. Diligent training will fortified my capabilities."

Feline huffed with a dash of annoyance, casting a sassy glance. "Looks like you and my Papa share the same obsession with training, you fitness maniac."

By the way, what kind of tribe is Sparlex?"

Feline responded with a stern posture, arms crossed over her chest. "The Sparlex tribe hails from the Vilhedun continent, celebrated for their unwavering prowess in battle, remarkable endurance, and profound passion for combat. Female Sparlex members receive instruction in domestic tasks such as cleaning and cooking, while their male counterparts undergo wilderness survival training using only their bare hands. From a young age, they are subjected to rigorous discipline."

"The Sparlex tribe's discipline is similar to natural selection. Males unable to survive in the forest are cast aside and left to perish, right?"

"Yes, you're right." Feline answered, nodding her head.

"So, what about girls? What happens if they can't do their housework?"

Feline gazed at Nero with gravity. "These individuals are educated in the art of pleasing a man intimately, yet they are prohibited from having a spouse or developing romantic attachments. Essentially, they are destined to serve as the Sparlex troops' source of sexual satisfaction and contribute to the creation of offspring in designated facilities as they mature."

"No way! That totally grossed me out!"

"Indeed, it may seem daunting for females with Sparlex lineage, including myself. However, rest assured, this regulation is exclusive to the Vilhedun continent, particularly in regions inhabited by the Sparlex tribe. Sparlex individuals relocating are restrained from imposing this rule upon their offspring, as they are obligated to adhere to local customs, exemplified by the proverb: where the land is stepped on, there the sky is upheld."

Nero exhaled a sigh of relief. "I see. I thought your father would apply the rule to you."

"I know my Papa loves me more than anything, so he won't enforce those rules on me. If I live in the Sparlex tribe and am not proficient at household chores, my Papa will surely relocate me; he doesn't want his daughter to be sexual object. Furthermore, if these rules were enforced and I couldn't manage my housework effectively, there wouldn't be any Sparlex tribe soldiers here."

"Your father is a really kind man." Nero smiled a little.

"Absolutely, my dear Mom used to say she was captivated by Dad's heart, a treasure trove of kindness that stole her heart."

Nero playfully remarked to Feline, "Hence, in order for your affections to incline towards me, it is imperative that I embody virtuous qualities surpassing those of your esteemed father."

"I've fallen for you, you stupid," Feline blushed, a mix of affection and mild irritation in her expression.

"What? Since when?"

"Ever since witnessing the fierce determination radiating from the sparkling depths of your mesmerizing red eyes!"

"I see. If you consistently present your feminine qualities around me, there's a possibility that I might develop romantic feelings for you."

"Oh, so you have a soft spot for the more feminine charm, huh?" Feline grinned with a touch of mischief.

"Y-Yeah." Nero's cheeks lit up like a sunset, his gaze shyly shifting to the right. Avoiding Feline's eyes, he couldn't bear the intensity of the moment he had just created.

Suddenly, a pair of tavern regulars, having just savored their hearty meal, caught wind of Nero and Feline's dialogue as they exited the tavern, their ears tuned to the unfolding exchange.

"Hey, catch that vibe? Kinda bummer, huh? Those tiny tots are diving deep into the love talk," said male customer A.

"Yeah, you right! Kids these days seem to have swapped morals for love gossip. Forget future planning; they're all about pre-marriage fun. Let's hope they keep it classy, right?" said male customer B.

Nero's cheeks turned even redder as the echoes of mockery reached his ears, prompting him to theatrically shield his face with both hands in a moment of embarrassment. "L-Let's stop this conversation, Feline."

Feline shot the two men a wicked glance, unleashing a deadly vibe. In her mind, she schemed: Spoiling other people's fun, huh? Brace yourselves. On your next visit to my Mom's tavern, your meals will get a touch of my special poison!!!

As Feline's face twisted into a mischievous grin, Nero delicately grazed her left shoulder, a wry smile playing on his lips, "Please, don't harm the two of them."

Feline cast a playful gaze at Nero, her smile a mischievous dance of sweetness, "Understood, my future husband."

"Y-You're really good at teasing me." Nero, his cheeks ablaze, stammered out the words in a hue of rosy embarrassment.

....

*Uncle Jenni illustration and his temporary profile*

Half an hour later....

Nero and Uncle Jenni lounged comfortably within the cozy confines of a quaint hut nestled amidst the meadow atop a plateau. In one corner, they carefully arranged a bag laden with training essentials, its weight seemingly substantial, yet effortlessly manageable for both. Uncle Jenni marveled at Nero's youthful vigor, his excitement heightened by the prospect of molding a prodigious talent like Nero into a formidable force through training.

Moreover, the path from the Nasya village to the elevated plateau weaves through a series of formidable challenges, including the ascent of precipitous slopes. Undeterred, Nero effortlessly navigates arduous terrain, displaying a boundless energy that leaves him untouched by fatigue. A radiant smile graces his face, a testament to his triumph over the formidable obstacles. Observing this, Uncle Jenni envisions Nero as a potential adventurer, his resilience akin to that of a seasoned Sparlex warrior.

Uncle Jenni, eager to unravel the mysteries of Nero's prowess and talents, strategically positioned himself for an information gathering session. With a determined air, he locked his eyes onto Nero, unleashing a gaze so sharp it could dissect capabilities. Caught in Uncle Jenni's scrutiny, Nero found himself entangled in an uncomfortable dance of glances, contemplating a diversion to break free from the intensity, yet bound by the ethical constraints that held his gaze captive.

"Before we dive into the training, Nero, let's kick things off with a truth session, shall we? Your honesty is key here—it's all for your benefit. Capisce?"

Nero nodded. "Understood, sir."

"Very well. I will now discuss the incident near the border fortifications, wherein you were impacted by a substantial piece of concrete but managed to evade any substantial injuries. This occurrence appears to defy conventional reasoning; had an ordinary individual experienced such an impact, fatality would likely have ensued promptly. Consequently, it can be asserted with confidence that your physical resilience is an outcome of your parental genetic inheritance, emanating from either your mother or father. What are your reflections on this matter? Can you recall the most recent instance where you witnessed your mother's physical prowess?"

Nero responded, "No, I never witnessed my mother's physical strength; rather, I observed the fragility of her body. Even the slightest touch would leave bruises on her hands."

"I see, so the only one is your father. All this time I have never seen your father in this village, do you know anything about him? I mean about his physical resilience."

"My mother asserted on a prior occasion that my father was a swordsman; however, I remain uninformed of his identity. Furthermore, my mother disclosed that my father possessed a robust physique, standing in proximity to two meters in height. In instances where he valiantly breached the enemy's defenses on the battlefield, devoid of protective skills, his impervious constitution ensured his unscathed emergence from such encounters."

Uncle Jenni pondered, his fingers gently grazing his chin, lost in contemplation, while the furrowed lines on his forehead bore witness to the profound depths of his thoughts.

"I comprehend your situation entirely. It seems that your father does not belong to the human race but rather aligns with a monstrous nature. Why do I assert this? It is due to the inherent impossibility for a human being to emerge unscathed from a battlefield assault without incurring even minor injuries. In this context, Nero, as his progeny, you exemplify characteristics akin to a resilient entity, often described as a monster."

"A monster, huh? Following the occurrence at the Border Fortress, there were individuals who perceived my physique as excessively robust. Nevertheless, from my perspective, I attribute my continued existence merely to fortuitous circumstances rather than inherent resilience."

"It appears that you require evidence of your body's exceptional durability and endurance."

Suddenly, Uncle Jenni extracted a rather hefty iron bat from one of the bags, effortlessly unleashing a powerful swing towards Nero's head. The resounding impact echoed through the air, startling the little birds resting above the hut. In the midst of it all, Nero appeared taken aback by Uncle Jenni's impromptu and dynamic move.

"I-I don't feel the slightest pain." Nero remained unharmed; his head exhibited no signs of bruising or swelling. The assault orchestrated by Uncle Jenni seemed as inconsequential to him as being struck by a soft pillow. Simultaneously, the iron bat employed in the attack had incurred deformation, rendering it unfit for further use.

Uncle Jenni neatly placed the damaged iron bat back into the bag.

"Luck played no role in the aforementioned incident; indeed, your physique exhibited remarkable resilience. Alternatively, are you averse to being identified as the progeny of a monster entity? Fret not, as it merely serves as a figurative analogy."

"I don't object to being referred to as a monster; I would rather be addressed as a formidable and perilous creature," Nero responded, wearing a broad smile.

Uncle Jenni chuckled joyfully, remarking, "You truly possess a distinct and unique boy, Nero."

"After researching pertinent details concerning you, I am prepared to ascertain an appropriate training methodology. However, prior to delving into that, I intend to engage in a somewhat audacious action, aiming to facilitate a deeper understanding of oneself on your part."

"Oh, something challenging! Well, feel free to do as you please, uncle," said Nero, excited.

"Seems like you're all about embracing the thrill of a good challenge, huh?"

Uncle Jenni gracefully unveiled a gleaming dagger ensconced in a sheath crafted from exquisite animal hide. With a deliberate motion, he revealed its slender, lustrous form—a blade that radiated brilliance even in the absence of sunlight. The slender, modest length of the dagger and the delicate jewel embellishment adorning its hilt bestowed upon it an air of opulence and extravagance.

"I intend to utilize this dagger to inflict harm upon your hand. I am genuinely intrigued to ascertain whether your physical resilience extends solely to blunt instruments or encompasses susceptibility to edged ones as well. Should you experience discomfort, kindly refrain from vocalizing distress, as I am prepared to provide prompt medical attention."

Nero nodded. "Understood, sir."

Uncle Jenni firmly clasped Nero's right hand, deftly sliding the dagger across his wrist with deliberate precision. The blade cut deeply, causing a noticeable gash that let crimson blood seep from Nero's hand, eliciting a subdued groan of discomfort.

"It is remarkable that your body exhibits resilience against blunt force while displaying vulnerability to sharp objects. Could you provide insights into the origins of this phenomenon? Additionally, I am curious about the measures one could undertake to enhance such resilience. Nero, achieving immunity to sharp objects would undoubtedly elevate your prowess as a formidable fighter." Uncle Jenni pondered these matters conscientiously as he attended to Nero's right hand injury, diligently applying a bandage.

"Perhaps practicing every day will make my body stronger," Nero suggested, gazing at Uncle Jenni with innocent eyes.

Uncle Jenni paused briefly, then declared with confidence, "Okay! Time for some practice! Nero, are you ready?"

"Yes, sir!" Nero saluted.

"Alright, let's spice things up! Flex those arms muscles with a set of 50 push-ups, and if you conquer this challenge, victory shall be your reward!"

"OK, sir!"

Nero emerged from the compact hut, embracing the open space as he assumed a flawless push-up stance on the modest patch of grass. Methodically descending and rising, he gradually accelerated the rhythmic motion. As the count reached ten, Nero intensified the pace, pushing himself harder. By the time he hit thirty, weariness had settled in; his hands trembled, breath came in pants, and his face glistened with copious sweat. Despite his valiant effort, Nero succumbed at the count of 33, collapsing onto the grass, his body overcome by numbness.

"That's all you can do?" Uncle Jenni said it with such arrogance and disdain for Nero.

"Damn, this is so humiliating..." Frustration gripped Nero as he grappled with his shortcomings. Determined, he endeavored to rise, his every muscle quivering in protest against his perceived defeat.

"It's common to feel frustration in the face of failure, but it's essential not to dwell excessively on it, as it can lead to self-torment. Let me assist you, and afterward, take a moment to rest."

Uncle Jenni gently scooped up Nero, cradling him in his arms as they settled onto a weathered bench within the rustic hut. With a warm smile, Uncle Jenni presented Nero with a refreshing bottle of crystal-clear mineral water.

"Quench your thirst with a sip, hydrate for the challenges ahead, and brace yourself for intensified training. But before practice, let's try again to injure your hand with the dagger."

Nero felt the delicate touch of the lavish dagger on his left hand, just moments before Jenni's uncle skillfully withdrew the hilt, cleanly slashing the boy's hand with a precise yet forceful motion. Tension gripped Nero as he closed his eyes, massaging his forehead in an attempt to dull the pain; his face now visibly more perspired than ever.

"W-What the hell!?" Uncle Jenni was visibly stunned after intentionally injuring Nero's left hand. His intense gaze seemed ready to unleash an explosion of emotions.

"What's wrong, uncle?" Nero was confused by Uncle Jenni's strange behavior.

"Oi, Nero, did you feel any pain after I slash your hand?!"

"Yeah, but not as achy as before." Nero replied, his eyes still sealed shut.

"If you want to know, open your eyes right now and look at this...."

Upon opening his eyes, Nero scrutinized his right hand, noting that the dagger wound appeared significantly less severe. The skin had been merely scraped, resulting in a slight but persistent bleed.

"Uncle, did you really hurt my hand? It feels like you didn't take it seriously."

"I'm the kind of dude who takes things seriously, like, I've got a no-nonsense vibe when I'm in the zone, so don't even question the level of serious I bring to the table, boy."

"But, why isn't my hand seriously hurt?"

"The more you train, the stronger your body becomes, as you mentioned earlier."

"Let's kick off more intense training, Uncle!" A radiant joy painted Nero's expression as those words reached his ears.

Is this kid like, obsessed with training or something? But hey, his vibe is solid. Maybe I'm molding a future Grimfield continent conqueror here. Now that's something to brag about in my life. Uncle Jenni mused, sporting a satisfied grin.

"Alright, Nero! Time to kick off the training! First up, sprint around this meadow like a champ—50 laps, no breaks. Then, flex those muscles and lug those boulders from yonder, down the plateau. Last but not least, do 70 squat-jumps! Got it?" Uncle Jenni hollered with infectious enthusiasm.

"Understood, sir!"

To be continued....