The next day back at his residence, Cain never gave up on reaching the peak stage. However that was entwined with magic research, meditation and training. He never slacked off. Always roaring to go like the revv of a V-8 engine.
Right now he was in a training area in his residence all alone, he was wearing black shorts and was bare footed. All sorts of training equipments could be seen, ranging from dumb-bells to life-like practise dummies.
In the middle of all this, he was training his muscles as it moved brilliantly and was in perfect sync with each punch he threw. His upper body was shaped like a triangle. His physique like that of the perfect ectomorph which would leave Frank Zane gasping in admiration. It wasn't the kind of body a normal fifteen year should have but he had it, coupled with his height he looked intimidating.
His movements were smooth and clean without flaws. He kept switching stances like a seasoned boxer, throwing left and right in the air consecutively. Swish sounds could be heard from the speed of his punches, stressing the power that it packed.
And so he continued, from punches to kicks, from kicks to elbows, from elbows to knees. His body showcasing itself as the perfect weapon. Sweat rolled down his body but all it did was make him look like he was performing a bodybuilding exhibition. His gaze was so focused and serious as if he was about to enter a life and death match.
But it was really life and death to him. Just being alive wasn't going to cut it for him, that was certainly not it. No, he wanted more, to surpass and never be surpassed. To be above all and below none. He knew his task was a daunting one filled with thorns but that would not stop him. Staying this way would only guarantee his death.
So he would advance, he would step on the thorns as long as it gave him strength. Everything was inconsequential to him, only strength mattered. How he got it made no difference. If he had to become an abomination then he would gladly be just that. It mattered not.
This mindset was etched deep into him and was unshakable. He switched to elbows and began alternating them with his knees, his movements reminding one of the Muay Thai warrior from the Ong Bak movie — Ting.
As he kept on, he felt the pain as his body screamed for him to halt, to take a break, to sit down and catch his breath. But he did not relent, in fact he upped his tempo. He was in charge, he was the pilot, his body had to move however he wished. Only extremes could birth improvement, pushing past your limit had been proven as a major ingredient for growth.
He was ruthless to his enemies and even more so to himself. Like a master disciplining his disciple, he disciplined his body and tempered his mind. So no matter the pain or the fatigue he would not stop, he would push forward.
The more he trained the more he was reminded of when he felt the emperor's aura some days back. He had always thought he was an ant prior to that, but at that moment, it was proven, he was even tinier than an ant in the eyes of an immortal.
What he felt couldn't completely be described in words. His soul shook heavily. His stomach churned like the crank of a faulty machine.
It was like the end of the world was happening inside his body. Everything became chaotic. He couldn't think straight. He no longer was the pilot of his own body, he became the passenger. He was reminded of his meagre existence, that even the winds had more substance than him.
As he felt all that, he knew that the only ever option was to rise up, to be above the wind, to grow out of his cocoon like a caterpillar. To temper his body to the point of abnormality. In a certain way he was obsessed just like Tara. However his obsession was with strength, he yearned for it.
So he kept on training, his motions were swift and detailed, giving no room for mistakes. He would use the equipments, practise on the dummies, do image trainings, spell researches and so on.
His spell researches were also extensive. In Medora, magicians were like scientists, they always kept on researching on spell theories, applications, techniques. This gave birth to countless spell models ranging from support spells, layering spells, location spells, offensive spells and so on.
Mages didn't have strong bodies. Although at the fourth rank they were beings of elements with bodies many times stronger than mortals, compared to others, they lacked. They were what you would call people with high offense and low durability.
However they made up for this with the versatility of their spells, a rank one offensive spell was capable of destroying a building not to mention the higher tiered spells like the those in the sixth rank capable of damaging a continent. It went to show just how much research and hard work was put into these spell models by the mages.
Cain had just two offensive spells to his repertoire, although his spells lacked in number compared to fellow rank one mages, he could say with confidence that they were extremely powerful. Another good thing was that, his spells were unique to him, they could grow in power with him.
He had used his bloodline and other offensive spells as a reference for his spells and had already tested them. He was content with their power output so he had no issues there. He focused heavily on his body because he wanted perfection. Although his body looked like it was sculpted by Michelangelo himself, he kept on with his training.
He continued for hours, switching from equipment to equipment. Landing terrifying punches, elbows and knees on the poor dummies before he stopped and decided that he was done for the day. He grabbed a towel and wiped his body as he made his way to his room to take a bath.
But as he ambled along the hallway towards his room, he heard murmurs and giggles. He guessed it was his sisters, he couldn't avoid them, his room was after their location—which was the living room.
Sabina and Guinevere both sat on a comfy cushion as they chatted freely with drinks in their hands. Guinevere was the first to spot Cain as her smile widened to a point, revealing her dimples.
"Little brother," she said as she lightly patted on the space next to her. "Come sit with us." Her voice was smooth and enthralling and her gaze gentle. She wanted to spend some quality time with him. She felt being in the airship would at least grant her the perfect opportunity but Cain's training always took the crown. However right now was a chance and she wouldn't pass it up.
As soon as Sabina heard Guinevere she turned and looked at Cain, her lips curled up into a smile as she carefully placed her glass cup down.
"Cain~!" She stood up and dashed towards him, giving him a tight embrace.
Cain was helpless, he couldn't break free from her embrace, she was a rank 4 — a being of element — so no matter what he did, it was futile. After hugging him like the way an anaconda squeeze its prey, she let go but grabbed his wrist and dragged him to where Guinevere was.
She didn't care if he was a little sweaty or not. All she wanted, just like Guinevere was to pamper and tease her little brother. Cain had no say in the matter as he was dragged to sit in between his two sisters.
"I need to take a bath right now, I don't really have time for this" Cain said as he began to slowly stand up from the cushion.
But Sabina clasped his shoulder with a strong grip, her smile still apparent on her face, "Oh come on little brother, you need to rela—oh yes, you should drink with us, forget the bath for now."
Guinevere nodded in agreement, "Sabina's right, little brother you really don't spend much time with us. You just keep on training, you should let loose sometimes with your family."
Cain was silent, inwardly he was a little discontent. He felt greasy and wanted to cleanse himself but these dolts with him didn't give him any chance. To make matters worse, he could do nothing, especially when he felt Sabina's grip.
"Do you really hate spending time with your lovely sisters?" Sabina questioned. "Just for today…at least for today spend some quality time with us." She paused and shot a side glance at Guinevere as she inched closer and whispered with a smirk. "Or is it that you don't want to spend it with big sister Guin?"
Guinevere obviously heard her, her eyelids twitched a little but she still kept on smiling.
Cain sighed as he exhaled lightly, "Fine, but I will only do so after I've had a bath." He conceded to his fate, he didn't want to be nagged at like this again. He could imagine Sabina strolling to the training room just to distract him. He might as well get it over and done with to avoid this annoyance.
When they both heard his reply they were silent, Sabina turned to look at Guinevere — her hand still on his shoulder — as they both nodded.
"Is that a promise?"
"Sabina you should leave him be, don't you trust the word of our little brother anymore?"
Sabina shot Guinevere a questioning look but to be frank she was ecstatic. She remembered when he smiled at her ten years ago, she would never forget it. After that day, all she wanted was to see him smile, it looked good on him she thought. His face always had the same expression to her, she never knew if he was angry, sad or happy.
She wanted to know, she was his big sister. She wanted to make sure that his life wasn't just about trainings non-stop. Although she was happy that he strived to become stronger, she wanted him to take some time and cool off, to appreciate life, which is why she insisted he came back.
Guinevere was also lost in her thoughts, she had not spent much time with Cain but she loved him nonetheless. She was mostly occupied with her meditations just like him, she was a demi-immortal after all and was constantly trying to breakthrough to the immortal ranks. But her little brother came first.
Cain just nodded, "Yes I promise, so you don't need to worry about that."
Sabina's smile swelled as she released her grip. Cain stood up calmly and made his way to his room, he felt like this little talk was even more tiring than his training.
