31 When Time Bends at Sea
Princess Victoria gave John a careful look before speaking in a calm but firm voice:
— Let's call it a day. You're almost out of elemental power.
"Okay," John replied breathlessly.
During the last counterattack, he consumed almost all the energy he had. In that world, the evolving beings absorbed the spiritual energy dispersed in the atmosphere, channeling it into their evolutionary cores. From there, they converted it into elemental power, the basis for manipulative magic, mystical arts, and combat techniques.
But while spiritual energy seemed infinite, its absorption capacity varied according to the level of evolution. As a Primary 1 being, John could barely contain ten liters of invisible spiritual liquid—a tiny fraction compared to the demands of the battlefield.
He bowed slightly and said respectfully:
— Young princess, did we think about resuming training another day?
Victoria thought for a moment. The wind blew slowly through the pine trees surrounding the open field, before she finally nodded with a slight smile.
— We can train again tomorrow. But on one condition.
John frowned in confusion. This princess had always figured him out —she was nothing like the real-life figures in the stories he had grown up hearing.
—What condition would that be, young princess?
Victoria crossed her arms and looked at him with an amused look.
— Stop calling me young princess — she said, with a friendly smile on her lips.
John hesitated, looking at her for a few seconds. There was no sign of disapproval or stiffness in his expression. Just disarming sincerity.
— So... what should I call you? — He said, pondering.
— I can just call myself Vitória.
— Alright then... Victoria — he replied, with a slight nod.
They left the training area together, walking side by side in silence. High above, hidden among thin clouds, two figures watched them. The breeze did not dare to reach them.
— What did you think? — asked Fernando, without looking away.
"It's still too early to draw conclusions," Felicia replied . Her eyes fixed on the two young men who had walked away. "We'll keep monitoring."
— I think the same thing — said Fernando.
—But for a first training battle, he wasn't bad at all. He was better than you when you started out— Felicia added with a teasing smile.
Fernando scratched his head, embarrassed.
— Was I that bad?
Felicia didn't respond. Instead, she simply vanished into thin air, like a shadow touched by light. Fernando let out a resigned sigh before disappearing as well, without a trace.
Above where the two served, even higher in the skies hidden by the dense clouds, another figure emerged from the vastness of the firmament. It was Prince Leonel Albert . His gaze was indecipherable, as if he were scrutinizing not only bodies, but also destinies. After a few seconds of absolute silence, he too disappeared, leaving only the emptiness of the sky behind him.
Night had fallen over the Kingdom. After training, John had taken a shower and spent the rest of the afternoon recovering. The feeling of his elemental core being empty was worse than hunger—it was a spiritual emptiness, an absence that gnawed at him from within.
Now, refreshed, he dined with the others at the grand table in the hall: Fernando, Felicia , Vitória and him.
"Where's Mom?" John asked after a few silent bites.
— She went to visit her grandfather, in the western region — Fernando replied calmly.
John nodded, wiping his lips before turning his gaze back to Victoria.
— Young man... I mean , Vitória. When will the components for Isa's evolution arrive?
Fernando looked up with a tone of slight disapproval.
— Junior, don't rush things. What the young princess is doing is already a great favor.
Victoria kept her smile calm, but her eyes shone with a peculiar complicity — one of those smiles that only girls seemed to understand in each other.
"It's all right, Lord Fernando. John must care a lot about this girl," she said lightly. Then, turning to the boy, she added: "Don't worry, John. The materials will be here in three days."
—Thank you for your effort—he replied, with sincerity in his voice.
The meal continued peacefully until, towards the end, Fernando brought up a new topic at the table. His voice was firm, but without losing the delicacy typical of a concerned father.
— Junior.
- Father?
— There is only one month and one week left until you enter the Institute.
"I know, Dad," John replied, his voice low but firm.
— Junior , you only have one month to become strong enough to protect yourself — warned Fernando, crossing his arms with a serious expression.
"I know," John repeated. "I promise to do my best to master my skills in that time."
He hesitated for a moment before asking a question that had long puzzled him:
— Dad... why don't you or your aunt train with me?
Fernando looked down, as if searching for words within himself.
— Neither I nor your aunt intend to hurt you.
Felicia completed, seriously:
— John, your father and I are superior beings. The elemental power we wield is too destructive for your current level. Even if we tried to contain our strength, the risk would be mortal.
John looked confused, so she continued, explaining patiently:
—Even if we suppressed our level of evolution to match yours, our power would still penetrate your body during combat. It would destroy your internal structure. Only base beings can withstand the full presence of a higher-level elemental power.
John nodded, but a memory surfaced.
—But, aunt... we 've trained before... even before I evolved to be a Primary.
Felicia interrupted him before he could finish.
— Back then, your father and I sealed our evolution cores. We fought like primitive beings, just to keep up with you. But now, as a Primary being, you would not benefit from such limited training. And we cannot risk your integrity with real confrontations.
"I see," John said, his head down.
Fernando stepped forward and, with a slight hint of encouragement in his voice, added:
— Since the young princess has offered to train with you, you should take advantage of it. She is more valuable than she appears.
After dinner, John returned to his room. He intended to go to bed early, to be well rested for the next day. He lay down on the bed, his eyes beginning to close... when , without warning, he felt himself pulled—not by his body, but by his consciousness—toward the sea of his soul.
In the outside world, it was night. But here, the sun shone brightly in a clear sky, without a trace of clouds. The waters seemed made of liquid crystal, so pure that they reflected the firmament with supernatural clarity. John floated on the surface, next to an imposing figure: the Oni .
"Didn't you say you'd only recover in a week?" John asked , surprised.
"The recovery was faster than I expected," the Oni replied , his voice reverberating like muffled thunder.
— Can we talk now? — John asked , trying to understand the reason for the sudden call.
- No.
- Why?
— Because you're so weak that I... I 'm even embarrassed for both of us — grumbled the Oni, crossing his arms indignantly. Despite his cute appearance — he looked like a baby made of pure sparkling energy — his expression was pure irritation.
— I 'm going to help you get stronger — he declared, his voice firm.
— How?
The Oni didn't respond. Instead, he walked slowly until he was face to face with John. In an instant, his shimmering figure began to transform. The lights that composed him changed shape and color, until… John was staring at himself.
It was as if he were looking into a mirror, but without the reflection—the other version of himself was alive, solid... and determined.
— Why did you turn into me? — John asked, confused.
The Oni did not respond. His face—now identical to John's—remained impassive, cold as stone. Without warning, he raised his right hand, and in it took shape a crimson sword enveloped in a dense, flaming aura.
— Draw your sword — ordered the Oni .
John looked down at his hand. His storage ring wasn't there—it was part of the real world, and he was in the soul sea. But before he could react…
—First Form: Sea-Splitting Sword — Rising Waves! — the Oni shouted , spinning the blade.
A beam of blue energy was violently launched, taking the form of a cutting wave that advanced straight towards John with overwhelming fury.
Instinct. Pure instinct.
John raised his hand as if he knew exactly what to do.
—First Form: Sea-Splitting Sword — Rising Waves! — he shouted .
A crimson sword took shape in his hand, as if it had sprung from his will. He swung the blade, and an identical wave of energy surged out, meeting the Oni's wave .
BOOM !
The two techniques collided in midair. The clash resounded like thunder. For a brief instant, the forces were balanced... until the Oni's wave surged forward with brutality and pierced through John's blow, exploding against his body.
— Cough ... cough ... arg ! — John fell to his knees, coughing up blood, his chest burning.
With effort, he got to his feet, staggering.
—How are you stronger than me...? We're on the same level, aren't we?
The Oni , still with John's face, finally answered — the voice was the same as his, but the tone carried something deeper, almost ancestral:
— Yes... we are on the same level in body . But my spirit is sharper. And that is what you lack.
He took a step forward.
— It is not enough to learn the technique. You have to live it . Feel what the sword wants to cut. Your hesitation is what hurts you.
John narrowed his eyes. He was panting, but the flame of understanding was beginning to burn in his gaze.
— So you... are a part of me?
The Oni smiled for the first time.
— I am the part that you have not yet mastered.
Oni did not respond.
He suddenly lunged forward with explosive speed and swung his sword in a horizontal slash. John raised his blade in an attempt to block the attack.
CRASH !
John's sword shattered like glass under the force of the blow. His body was thrown like a missile, rolling and bouncing violently across the waters of the soul sea.
He staggered to his feet, coughing. With a quick movement, he activated his sonar and enveloped his body in a barrier of water elemental aura. In the next instant, he saw the Oni appear again, fast as lightning, delivering another deadly attack.
John reacted. He channeled his energy, and his sword formed again in his hand, bathed in a torrent of elemental power.
He advanced.
Clash ! Clash ! Clash !
Blows and more blows. Swords clashed like thunder in war. But John was being suppressed. With each clash, his feet recoiled. With each blow, his arms trembled. The Oni was faster, stronger, more precise.
In a brutal attack, the Oni made a diagonal cut. John's sword couldn't resist. It shattered for the second time, sending sparks of energy flying into the air.
John barely had time to retreat.
The Oni turned his body, and with surgical coldness, plunged the crimson sword into John's chest. The blade pierced his body with absurd violence, exiting through his back.
SPLASH!
Blood gushed from the wound like a crimson fountain. The Oni withdrew his sword, letting John fall to his knees. Panting, the young man clutched his chest, his fingers stained with blood. His eyes, wide, stared at the Oni's face —his face.
Unbelievable.
But the pain was real. Raw. Undeniable.
"Too weak," the Oni murmured expressionlessly. "Weakness is a sin. So die."
John's body fell, lifeless.
John opened his eyes with a jerk.
He was in his room. Lying on the bed. Breathing heavily. Sweaty. Panting.
He clutched his chest. There was no wound. No scar. Not a drop of blood.
— A dream...? — he murmured , but something in his eyes betrayed his doubt. That had not been an ordinary dream.
An hour later, without any warning, he was pulled back into the sea of souls.
And so the night's hell began .
There, he was beaten. Stabbed. Broken. Submerged. Burned. And killed.
Not once, but forty times .
When morning came, John was surprised to find that his elemental energy remained at its peak. Even though he had fought all night, he had not wasted a single bit of power. He concluded that the sea of the soul operated on another layer of existence—here, death was a learning experience, not an end. He could be destroyed as many times as he wanted... and he would still wake up alive.
With that in mind, he reorganized his life. In the morning, he would train with the young Princess Victoria. In the afternoon, he would focus on recovering his elemental power. And at night... Night after night, he would give his soul to the Oni —in brutal, lethal, merciless battles, until the break of dawn.
Alex, on the other hand, was not far behind. Like John, he was a level 1 primary being, but he was not waiting for admission to the Evolution Institute for nothing. He trained every day, tirelessly, under the tutelage of his father, Ceto Arcano — a monster in the form of a man.
His schedule was inhumane: From morning until late afternoon, he was lashed by his father 's rigorous training . In the evening, he faced specific sessions with his mother, focused on magical refinement and spiritual endurance. night? Night was for rest—not for luxury, but because his body demanded it. If he didn't rest, he would simply break down.
Three days passed.
During this brief interval, John maintained his routine with unwavering discipline. In the morning, he trained with Vitória—who, despite her youth, was a formidable fighter. In the afternoon, he meditated, restored his essence, and absorbed the accumulated experience . At night, he bled into the sea of the soul.
The progress was remarkable. The young Princess Victoria was astonished by John's meteoric evolution—his adaptability was astonishing. The Oni, once a relentless tormentor, now met with resistance. John still died... but only twenty times a night.
A silent victory.
It was early in the morning.
John walked slowly, unhurriedly, with his golden hummingbird with crimson feathers resting elegantly on his shoulder. Victoria's absence altered his schedule—she had left for the capital at Prince Leonel Albert 's request , to attend to urgent matters. She would not return for another two weeks.
Without training, John decided to seek knowledge. He went to the main offices. After receiving due permission, he entered.
Fernando was there, focused on readings and reports.
— Dad , can I go to the library to learn magic? — John asked , with a sparkle in his eyes.
Fernando didn't answer right away. He just looked up from his papers.
—Better not — he said.
John frowned.
- Why not?
Fernando gestured with his hand, pointing to the chair in front of the table.
— Sit down. Let's talk.
John sat silently before Fernando, his eyes attentive, like a disciple before a master.
—Junior... — Fernando began , calling him by his baptismal name, something he only did when he was serious. — I want you to have a stable foundation. Don't worry about magical knowledge yet. Focus on training your body, and mastering the basics of the Sea-Dividing Sword. Only after that... will you be able to truly use magic.
He paused. His eyes became distant for a brief moment, as if he was remembering something.
— Try using the art you inherited from your mother... the Magic Art of the North Star. It is powerful, and you have already learned to chant incantations in the Baboan language . It should not be difficult for you.
"Okay, Dad," John replied, nodding . But his mind was still buzzing with doubts.
After a brief silence, he asked:
— Dad... how do I level up?
Fernando gave a light laugh, as if the question was innocent but understandable.
— For you, it's more complicated... but let's take it one step at a time. For a warrior, leveling up is simple: train your body, master a martial art, and understand the elements of combat. This strengthens your core and allows you to advance.
He held up a finger.
— A magician, on the other hand... needs another approach. Conjuring, studying, delving into the elements, feeling spiritual energy... that is what elevates a magician.
Then he leaned forward a little, his expression growing darker.
—But you are a warrior-mage. One of the most demanding paths . You will have to grow in both aspects at the same time. You cannot neglect either one.
John was thoughtful.
That was when something clicked inside his mind . To him, this all sounded familiar. In RPG terms, it was like a hybrid system—like those multiclass characters he loved to play. In the games, leveling up required EXP , and the source of experience varied depending on the class. Mages gained it by learning spells, studying enchantments, and successfully casting spells . Warriors progressed by mastering techniques, combat, and physical strength . In this world, although there were no visible experience bars, the concept was similar.
The difference is that... here , dying was real. The pain was real. And failure cost blood.
But the logic... was strangely intuitive.
John faced Fernando, feeling more prepared—or at least, less lost.
After all, in this world that mixed the arcane and the brutal, understanding the rules was the first step to breaking the limits .
"Thank you, Dad," John said, standing up.
— Father... — he hesitated for a moment — I will be in seclusion for two weeks. I want to use this time to integrate what I have learned about magic... and I will try to master the art that my mother left me.
Fernando was thoughtful. He evaluated the request in silence, pondering the risks or problems. When he realized that nothing seemed out of the ordinary, he nodded firmly.
— Okay. You can use the castle catacombs. No one will bother you there.
— I'm going, dad.
John turned, ready to leave. But before he crossed the door, Fernando's voice called him again.
— Junior... don't forget to eat well.
John smiled, without turning around.
— I won't forget.
That morning, John spent precious time with Isa. They shared smiles, sweet words, and comfortable silence. It was the last breath of lightness before the plunge into the darkness of training.
After lunch, he headed to the castle's catacombs. The place was silent, damp , with the air thick with ancient energy. The sound of his footsteps echoed off the stone walls like a countdown.
He took a deep breath.
He settled himself on the cold stone floor, sat in the lotus position, and closed his eyes.
Within seconds, his consciousness plunged into the Sea of Soul.
The inner world greeted him with a light breeze and the crystal clear water reflecting the infinite sky. In the center of the sea, the Oni awaited him—but not in the imposing and dark form of before. Now, the being floated with the appearance of a baby made of pure crimson energy, eyes closed, body enveloped in a pulsating glow.
John approached cautiously.
The Oni slowly raised his small hand towards the sky.
Suddenly, the sun expanded, growing brighter. The sky tilted downward, as if it were closer. The waters rippled, reacting to an invisible force.
John frowned.
— What was that?
The Oni replied in his soft, emotionless voice:
— You change the law of space-time.
— Space-time law? — John repeated , surprised.
— Yes. Now we will have more time to train.
John narrowed his eyes, still trying to comprehend.
— Do you mean that time passes differently here than in the real world?
— Not much. Just a two to one ratio.
John blinked.
— So... two hours here are equivalent to one hour there?
The Oni nodded with an almost imperceptible movement .
- Yes.
John smiled. That was... perfect .
More time meant more progress. More progress meant fewer deaths. And fewer deaths meant that one day he would step upon this sea as a master... and not a prisoner.
— So... two days here count as just one in the real world? — John asked , surprised.
the Oni replied calmly. — We are still very weak. This is the least I can do at the moment.
John gave an admiring smile.
—That's already impressive! It means that my week of seclusion here will count as two, counting as only one in the real world!
He clenched his fists excitedly.
— Enough talk. Let's get to what really matters — said the Oni , cutting the mood.
Suddenly, the Oni's body began to glow and reconfigure itself. Within seconds, it had taken on a new form—it was now a perfect copy of John, identical from head to toe, like a living reflection.
"We will use these two weeks to master the basics of both arts," the Oni declared emotionlessly. "The art of the Sea-Splitting Sword, as a warrior... and the Magic Art of the North Star, as a mage."
Without further words, the Oni raised his hands.
A sword of crimson energy formed, vibrant, pulsing as if alive. John did the same, summoning his own blade, which appeared with a low, steady hum.
The two of them charged forward at the same instant, like twin bolts of lightning cutting through the air.
Clang ! Clang ! Clang !
The swords clashed at a frantic pace. Sparks flew with each impact. The water beneath the two warriors' feet rippled, responding to the increasing pressure of their auras.
John activated his sonar instinctively, picking up every movement, every nuance in the air. His aura shimmered around his body, shaping itself like an armor of ethereal energy.
He was no longer the same. His strength had increased. His speed followed suit. Now, he could face the Oni on equal terms.
—Sea-Splitting Sword... First Form: Rising Waves ! — declared the Oni, stepping back and swinging his sword.
A light blue beam of energy cut through the air, taking the form of a surging wave that advanced furiously towards John.
But John did not hesitate.
—Sea Splitting Sword... First Form: Rising Waves ! — he shouted , mirroring the attack.
His energy wave surged with equal power, the blade forging a crest of light that charged straight at the Oni's charge .
BOOOM!
The two waves collided violently.
A boom echoed across the Soul Sea. The pressure from the collision created a whirlwind of wind and water, kicking up foam and dissipating some of the radiance in the illusory sky.
Both attacks canceled each other out, dissipating into fragments of blue light.
John took a deep, steadying breath.
Without wasting any time, he advanced again.
—Sea Splitting Sword... First Form: Rising Waves ! — he shouted again, firmer, more intense.
The next wave of energy began to form at the tip of the blade...
Once again, a Rising Wave was released without warning. It charged fiercely towards the Oni .
This time, however, the Oni did not show any defensive reaction. He did not raise his sword. He did not respond with another technique. He simply observed.
He stood there, calm, his eyes fixed on the attack.
When the wave was close enough, he raised his right hand.
—Magic Art of the North Star... Freeze — the Oni intoned , so fast and fluid that John could barely make out the words.
Cra — cra — cra ...
In an instant, the wave was engulfed in intense cold. Ice crystals formed from the blue energy beam and spread rapidly until they completely froze John's technique. The suspended water solidified, taking the form of a curved, translucent, and deadly sculpture.
With a slight twist of his wrist, the Oni swung his sword.
CRACK !
The crimson blade shattered the frozen wave into pieces as if it were thin glass. Blue shards flew through the air before evaporating.
The Oni smiled, this time with a certain challenge in his eyes.
— Your turn. Use the Art of the North Star to freeze my Rising Waves — he said, as if throwing a burning torch into oil.
Without allowing John to even prepare himself, the Oni was already on the move.
" Sea-Splitting Sword, First Form… Rising Waves! " he shouted , spinning the sword.
Once again, a fierce wave took shape and shot out, cutting through the air like a tsunami of energy.
John took a deep breath.
—Magic Art of the North Star... Freeze! — he intoned in Baboan , firm and resolute.
A chilling wind formed around John, laden with glittering particles like ethereal snowflakes. He charged against the wave.
For a moment, it seemed to work. The wave front began to crystallize. Droplets of solid energy shimmered in the air.
But the ice creaked... cracked... and broke.
CRASH !
The wave tore through the unfinished spell like an enraged beast and struck John with brutal force.
— Cough ! Cough ! — John fell to his knees, coughing, water running from his lips, his eyes burning with frustration.
The Oni approached with slow steps.
"You failed," he declared, without irony. Just stating a fact.
John staggered to his feet, his eyes burning with a mixture of shame and determination.
—Again—he said firmly.
The Oni nodded. No mercy.
" Sea Splitting Sword, First Form… Surging Waves! " he shouted again.
The wave emerged. Imposing. Merciless.
John raised his hand, his gaze sharp as the blade he carried in his soul.
—Magic Art of the North Star... Freeze! — he intoned , more clearly, more firmly, in perfect Baboan .
This time, the wind came thicker. Colder. Magic responded.
Just like before, John failed.
The wave did not freeze. Once again, the force of the Oni's technique struck him brutally. His body was thrown backward, engulfed in foam and light.
" Again ," he said, his fists clenched, his knees deep in the water.
—Sea- Splitting Sword, First Form... Rising Waves! — the Oni intoned .
—Polar Star Magic Art... Freeze! — John shouted .
Failure.
The water swallowed him once more.
- Once again.
—Sea Splitting Sword, First Form… Surging Waves!
—Polar Star Magic Art... Freeze!
Failure.
The sound of the impact reverberated through the sea of the soul. John's body was already trembling. His breathing was ragged, but his gaze... increasingly determined.
- Once again.
And so it was. They repeated the process. Ten, twenty, fifty times.
Three days passed in the Soul Sea. An endless cycle of effort, failure, and pain. In the real world, only a day and a half slipped through the hourglass of time.
On the fourth day.
The sound of swords cutting through the air filled the ethereal space. The Oni advanced like a hurricane of blades. John responded firmly. Every blow was blocked with precision.
Clang ! Clang ! Clang !
Sparks flew. The water churned beneath their feet.
—Sea Splitting Sword, First Form… Surging Waves! —the Oni stated.
With a twist, the crimson sword released the blue beam of energy. The wave took shape, an overwhelming wall of liquid that roared toward John.
But this time, something changed.
John didn't back down. He didn't hesitate. He didn't blink.
He just glowed. A soft light enveloping his body like a veil.
I hope. I calculate. I feel the exact moment.
And then informally the hand, with a firm and clear voice:
—Polar Star Magic Art... Freeze!
Cra — cra — cra —
The wave froze in midair. Crystals fell to form on the surface of the attack. The blue beam turned to solid ice, opaque and menacing. Within seconds, the entire wave had transformed into a massive, sculptural block of frozen energy.
John was not sincere. He did not celebrate.
He just took a deep breath. His eyes were cold, like ice, in front of him.
With an elegant twist of his sword, he delivered a single horizontal strike.
COLLIDE!
A frozen sculpture cracked and crumbled into a thousand glittering pieces, which dissipated like magic dust into the air.
" Success ," John murmured, breathless but firm.
The Oni stared at him in silence. A sharp breeze passed between the two.
Continued...
Dark Author's Note:
John took beating after beating, swallowed waves like he was a surfer of misfortune, but finally ... FINALLY he managed to freeze the blessed tide!
Now, my visionary readers: did he really master the art or was it just a stroke of luck? The Oni didn't shine for nothing — what if it was all just for the warm-up ?
If you liked this chapter, comment below: how many waves do you think are still coming? Leave your vote, your theory and, if you are one of the wise people who support this author hungry for recognition... I appreciate every coin, every word, every grain of faith.
See you in the next chapter. But remember... the sea of the soul does not forgive hesitation.
— End of note. To be continued...