The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the training ground as Julius staggered to his feet, gasping for breath. Sweat streamed down his face, and his body ached with exhaustion. He had been training for hours, desperately trying to master the technique his father had taught him. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t quite get it right. His body was covered in bruises from his repeated falls, a testament to how many times he’d crashed to the ground, failing to stick the landing.

  “This is harder than I expected,” he muttered, clenching his jaw in frustration. He knew the key was in controlling the force that coursed through his body, but he struggled to find the right balance. Too much power, and he overshot his mark, crashing into the branches. Too little, and he barely made it to the next tree.

  He took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus. “Alright, think,” he murmured. “Envelop the body with just the right amount of force—too much, and I’ll drain my stamina. When I jump, the force has to push off evenly from my feet. Then, twist midair to maintain balance before landing.” He visualized the path he needed to take: leap from tree to tree, using the trunks as springboards. “Firm and relaxed,” he reminded himself. “Every landing has to be firm and relaxed.”

  Steeling himself, Julius straightened up and summoned the force again, letting it flow through him like a second skin. With a burst of energy, he leapt toward the nearest tree, planting his feet against the rough bark. The impact resonated through his bones, but he held steady, bending his knees to absorb the shock.

  “Thud… Fwoosh…” The first jump was perfect. His body rotated smoothly as he flew through the air, and he landed silently on the next tree, as if the wind itself had set him down.

  “Firm and relaxed,” he repeated to himself, quickly shifting his weight to prepare for the second jump. He pushed off with both feet, launching himself forward. The world around him blurred as he twisted again, the force guiding his every move.

  “That's it,” he thought. “I think I’ve got it!”

  But as he prepared for the third leap, the fatigue that had been steadily building finally caught up with him. His limbs felt like lead, and his muscles quivered from overexertion. His body wavered in midair, and he realized too late that he had no energy left to control the landing. Instead of soaring forward, he plummeted toward the ground.

  “Not again!” Julius grunted as he crashed face-first into the dirt, tumbling several times before coming to a stop. He lay there, breathless and aching, the last of his strength spent.

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  Several guards, who had been observing from a distance, rushed over. “You alright, kid?” one of them asked, helping him sit up and lean against a tree.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” Julius panted. “Just a few bruises. My mother says I heal faster than normal, anyway. Bwahahaha!” He forced a laugh, though his entire body throbbed with pain. The truth was, every joint in his body screamed in protest, but he wasn’t about to admit that—not if it meant getting another lecture from his father.

  “Here, take some water,” one of the guards said, handing him two bottles. “You’ve earned it. Just shout if you need anything else.”

  Julius took a long drink, feeling the cool liquid soothe his parched throat. As he caught his breath, he noticed the sky had turned a deep shade of orange. The sun was setting.

  “Ah, I didn’t realize I’d been out here all day,” he thought. But then, a sudden realization hit him like a bolt of lightning. “Mother!”

  He hadn’t eaten lunch. His eyes widened with panic. If Ariadna found out, there would be no mercy. She was loving, but when it came to taking care of her son, she could become… terrifying.

  “Dammit, I’m dead! I’m dead!” he shouted, springing to his feet. Without thinking, he summoned the force once more, letting it surge through him as he took off like a comet, leaping from rooftop to rooftop. He moved with newfound agility, landing without a sound, the day’s training finally coming together in a frantic burst of energy.

  The guards gaped at his sudden display of skill, dumbfounded by the boy’s speed and grace. “That kid is something else,” one of them murmured. “Where does he find that strength?”

  Inside the house, a different kind of storm was brewing. Ariadna’s aura crackled like the air before a thunderstorm. She stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed, her eyes glowing faintly with a dangerous light. As Julius skidded to a halt in the doorway, the temperature dropped, and frost began to form on the walls.

  “I’m sorry, Mother! I promise I won’t skip lunch again!” Julius blurted out, kneeling on the floor.

  Ariadna’s voice was calm, but her power surged around her like a vortex. “Enough.”

  Julius flinched as an unseen force slammed into him, pushing him back. He gritted his teeth, refusing to budge. If he showed any weakness, he knew she would unleash the full force of her maternal wrath.

  “I’ll let it slide this time,” she said, her tone softening. “But I won’t tolerate it again. Do you understand?”

  “Y-Yes, Mother!” Julius stammered, his heart pounding.

  The storm in the room slowly subsided, and the temperature warmed. Ariadna’s expression softened, and she knelt down to kiss his forehead. “I just worry about you,” she said gently. “You’re still growing. You need to take care of yourself.”

  “I know, Mom,” Julius said, finally relaxing. “It won’t happen again. I promise.”

  She wrapped him in a warm embrace, and Julius felt the last of his anxiety melt away. For a moment, all was calm—until she suddenly pulled back and barked, “Now, take a bath!”

  Before she could finish the sentence, Julius bolted for the bathroom, moving with a speed that would have impressed even his father.

  “Hihihi,” Ariadna giggled, shaking her head. “That boy never changes.”

  Outside, the villagers slowly resumed their routines, grateful that the tempest had passed. Life in Planax Village returned to normal—for now.