After completing the movement and balance training, Asher trailed behind the other trainees. Unfamiliar with the layout of the First Training Ground, he had no choice but to follow their lead throughout the day.
They passed through several doors before arriving at a chamber. Though it opened up into a new space, it was noticeably smaller than the expansive areas designated for physical conditioning and movement training.
Asher’s gaze drifted upward, and froze. A man stood effortlessly on the ceiling, upside down, a book resting casually in his hand.
As if sensing the weight of Asher’s stare, the man’s eyes lifted from the pages and met his.
’How is he standing like that?’ Asher wondered, his thoughts swirling with various possibilities.
The man snapped the book shut with a quiet thud, then stepped off the ceiling. He descended gracefully, landing as if gravity itself bent to his will. Without preamble, he began to speak.
"The purpose of this training is singular, to enhance your control over Astra. Nothing more. I will teach only the fundamentals; the rest you will discover on the journey that is your life."
He paused briefly, letting his words settle, then continued.
"Now, as is customary, begin by attempting to form a small sphere with your Astra. Those of you who have already mastered this should focus your efforts on learning to walk on walls, or any other surface, using Astra alone."
At his command, the trainees dispersed into groups. Some remained standing, concentrating intently as they channeled Astra above their palms, attempting to form a small, stable sphere. Others moved toward the walls, channeling Astra into their feet as they began to ascend, each step a test of balance and focus.
The man turned to Asher, his gaze calm yet expectant.
"Since you’re new," he said, "begin with the Astra sphere."
Asher gave a silent nod to the instructor, then raised his hand, focusing inward. He felt the Astra stir within him, flowing through his veins before surging just above his palm. Though invisible to the naked eye, Astra could be sensed, its presence tangible, like pressure in the air.
He focused, shaping it with intent. But it was unstable. Each time he managed to mold it into the semblance of a sphere, it unraveled the next moment, dissolving into nothing. Still, he could feel something shifting, subtle adjustments, his control refining in real time. With every failed attempt, he improved.
Minute by minute, his control sharpened.
And after three steady minutes, the energy above his palm solidified, delicate, precise. A perfect Astra sphere floated in place, stable and balanced.
The instructor’s gaze shifted to Asher, his eyes narrowing slightly in appraisal.
"You’ve managed to form it," he said, voice calm but firm. "Now do it again, faster this time. Repeat it until it becomes effortless, until you no longer have to think."
With that, he turned his attention to the other trainees, offering no further words.
Asher could feel their eyes on him, curious, perhaps envious. It was hard to ignore. In just three minutes, he had accomplished something many of them still struggled to master.
The Astra sphere above his palm dissipated into the air, fading without a sound. Without hesitation, Asher channled Astra once more, guiding it through his veins and into his palm. This time, the sphere formed instantly, clean, stable.
He raised his other hand, channeling the same invisible force through his body, and a second Astra sphere materialized just as swiftly.
’Too easy,’ Asher thought, eyes fixed on the spheres floating above his hands.
With a thought, he dispelled them both and repeated the process. Again and again. And with each cycle, his control sharpened. He began to notice the subtle inefficiencies, tiny traces of Astra leaking into the air during formation. Gradually, instinctively, he refined his technique, minimizing the loss and maximizing precision.
The process, once fragile and uncontroled, was quickly becoming second nature.
Asher’s gaze shifted toward the trainees attempting to scale the walls. Some managed a few steps before slipping, landing awkwardly on the ground. Others couldn’t even lift themselves off the floor, their feet trembling with effort as they tried, and failed, to channel Astra properly.
His eyes then moved to the instructor.
Unlike the struggling students, the man stood effortlessly on the vertical surface, as if gravity had no claim on him. Asher’s mind began to turn, analyzing every subtle movement.
He watched closely, the posture, the calm breath, the way the instructor channeled Astra down through his legs, concentrating it into his feet to maintain contact and balance.
Sensing the weight of Asher’s gaze, the instructor turned his head. His eyes landed on the two Astra spheres hovering steadily above Asher’s palms, stable, refined, and flawlessly formed.
There was no flicker of surprise in the instructor’s expression.
Forming an Astra ball was, after all, the most fundamental of fundamentals. Geniuses often required an hour or two to perfect it. True prodigies, monsters, needed only minutes.
He had trained Suns and Moons before, individuals of extraordinary talent, and they, too, had achieved this feat in mere minutes. Asher had simply done it faster.
That alone wasn’t enough to surprise him.
Not yet.
"You may begin climbing the wall," the instructor said, his tone composed and unhurried.
Asher responded with a simple nod, stepping forward with steady, confident strides. Astra surged through him, flowing to the soles of his feet. He adjusted it with careful precision, replicating the method he had observed from the instructor moments earlier.
Then, without hesitation, he placed one foot against the wall.
His body lifted effortlessly as his second foot followed, locking smoothly into place. For a brief moment, Asher stood still, completely vertical, his body aligned with the wall as though gravity itself had shifted to accommodate him.
A small smile curved his lips.
Then he began to walk.
Step after step, smooth and unbroken, as if he were strolling across flat ground. He moved past several trainees who wobbled, slipped, or clung tightly for balance, each struggling to maintain their footing where he now moved with ease.
All eyes turned to Asher, stunned into silence as he strode past the instructor himself, still walking upright along the wall with perfect balance, as if defying gravity was as natural as breathing.
’How?’
The question echoed through every trainee’s mind like a thunderclap.
None of them could comprehend it. Walking on walls was supposed to be difficult, an advanced feat requiring both instruction and intense focus. The instructor hadn’t even explained the technique to Asher, yet here he was, moving with casual ease, untouched by hesitation or strain.
What unsettled them even more was the speed. Forming the Astra ball had taken him three minutes, an already remarkable feat. But this? He had accomplished it in seconds.
No misstep. No falter. Just effortless mastery.
What the others didn’t realize was that the reason Asher had taken three minutes to form the Astra ball was simply because he had done it without guidance. He had figured it out on his own.
Had he seen someone perform it just once, he would have replicated it instantly.
That was the kind of talent he possessed.
His ease in climbing the wall was no different. He had observed the instructor’s subtle control over Astra, how it was concentrated, directed, balanced. That single glance had been more than enough.
But Asher wasn’t the only one blessed with exceptional talent.
Above, three trainees stood upside down on the ceiling, arms folded across their chests, silently observing the scene below. There was no struggle in their stance, no effort in their posture, only quiet composure and superiority.
Asher had noticed them from the very beginning, during the physical fitness training, where their physiques were clearly above average. During the movement and balance drills, they had moved with precision, struck by fewer arrows than anyone else.
Now, even in Astra control, they maintained that same quiet dominance.