Week had already passed since I began the seemingly impossible task of stabilizing rune magic while constantly moving.
Unlike meditating in complete stillness, maintaining a rune while my body was in motion demanded an entirely different level of concentration.
Every step, every swing of my weapon, every shift in breathing threatened to unravel the delicate flow of magic power I had painstakingly woven together.
My goal wasn’t simply to cast magic anymore, it was to make rune magic become a natural part of my combat, something that flowed as effortlessly as breathing itself.
At the same time, I paired the exercise with my endurance training, forcing both my body and mind to adapt together instead of separately.
The first day had been nothing short of miserable.
I could barely maintain the rune for ten minutes before my concentration shattered.
The rune would flicker, my magic power would collapse, and the familiar feeling of mental exhaustion would hit me like a hammer.
Every failed attempt left me frustrated, but there was no shortcut to mastery.
So I simply repeated the process again and again, day after day, refusing to stop just because it was difficult.
By the end of the first week, something had changed.
Without even realizing it, I had pushed my limit from a mere ten minutes to nearly thirty.
It wasn’t an overwhelming improvement, but it was undeniable progress.
More importantly, I noticed that my regular physical training had started to feel…
easier.
The exercises that once left my muscles burning no longer challenged me the same way they had before.
Integrating rune stabilization into every movement transformed even the simplest drills into something far more demanding.
Every sprint became a battle against my concentration.
Every strike forced me to balance strength, precision, and magic power control simultaneously.
It was as though I had unknowingly raised the difficulty of my entire training regimen.
And strangely enough…
I didn’t hate it.
If anything, I welcomed the challenge.
There was another discovery that caught my attention.
Each attempt became just a little easier than the last.
Not because the task itself had become simpler, but because my body seemed to remember what it had experienced before.
My breathing naturally settled into a steady rhythm.
My muscles moved with less hesitation.
Even my mind no longer fought against the burden of maintaining the rune.
It was as if every failure had quietly carved a path within me, allowing the next attempt to follow it with less resistance.
I couldn’t help but think back to the blessing I had received after my reincarnation.
Perhaps, this wasn’t merely the result of hard work.
Maybe the blessing itself was accelerating my growth, allowing my body and mind to adapt at a pace that should have been impossible.
I had no way of proving it, but the evidence was difficult to ignore.
My progress wasn’t explosive, it was subtle, steady, and frighteningly consistent, as though every day I became a slightly better version of myself without even noticing.
A faint smile found its way onto my face.
If this blessing truly allowed me to adapt faster than ordinary people, then letting it go to waste would be the greatest mistake I could make.
Then the answer was simple.
Train harder.
Push further.
If I could maintain rune stabilization for thirty minutes now…
then by the end of the month, I’d make it an hour or maybe more.
And after that, I’d keep going until maintaining rune magic during battle became as instinctive as drawing my next breath.
The very next morning, Father watched my training in silence, his arms folded as I cycled magic power through the runes engraved within my body.
The familiar sensation of magical energy flowing through my body no longer felt as unstable as it had week ago.
My breathing remained steady, and despite the strain, I was able to maintain the activation for a full thirty minutes before finally dispersing the spell.
The moment the runes faded from my body, Father gave a single nod.
“You’ve reached the first milestone faster than I expected.”
There wasn’t the slightest hint of surprise in his voice, but I could see the faint approval hidden beneath his calm expression.
Somehow, hearing those words from him felt more rewarding than any praise I could have imagined.
“Tomorrow’s training will be different,” he continued.
“Bring every note you’ve written… and the plans you’ve made.”
“…My notes?”
He simply nodded before walking away, leaving me wondering what he had in mind.
The following day, I arrived at the training grounds carrying a thick notebook that had become my second treasure.
It was filled with countless sketches of runic formulas, failed theories, improvements, and pages covered in crossed-out ideas.
Every late night I had spent experimenting, every small realization, every ridiculous thought I had written them all down.
Father flipped through the pages one by one.
His expression barely changed, but every now and then his eyebrows would twitch, as though he had found something unexpected.
After several minutes of silence, he finally closed the notebook.
“So…” he said.
“Which spells are you planning to integrate into your combat style?”
I had rehearsed this answer dozens of times.
“I want to build my foundation around three rune spells.”
Taking a deep breath, I pointed to the diagrams I had carefully prepared.
“Rune Magic: Bolt.”
A spell that could instantly create lightning blast through runic acceleration.
Fast enough to pressure enemies from a distance or create openings during close combat.
“Rune Magic: Barrier.”
A defensive rune capable of forming temporary shields during battle.
Rather than standing still to defend, I wanted to cast barriers while moving, allowing offense and defense to become one continuous flow.
Finally…
I pointed toward the last page.
“And… Rune Magic: Ether Cannon.”
Unlike the previous two, this wasn’t based on any spell I had learned.
It was entirely my own concept.
A high-density beam of compressed magic power , continuously accelerated through multiple layered rune arrays before being released in a single devastating blast.
Unlike Bolt, which emphasized speed, Ether Cannon focused on overwhelming power through magic power compression.
Father stared at the diagram for several moments.
“…Bolt and Barrier are solid choices.”
He nodded in approval.
“I’ve used both countless times myself. They’ll serve you well.”
His finger slowly slid toward the final page.
“But this…”
He examined every formula with far greater attention than before.
“I’ve never seen this rune arrangement.”
For a brief moment, I felt nervous.
Had I overlooked a fatal flaw?
Was the theory impossible?
Then Father looked at me with a faint smile.
“…Interesting.”
His smile widened just enough for me to notice.
“…Neither do I.”
“But that’s exactly why we’ll develop it together.”
My eyes widened.
Together…
Those simple words carried more weight than I expected.
This wasn’t just my project anymore.
It had become ours.
A spell created by both father and son.
Somehow…
that realization alone filled me with excitement.
After discussing my plans, Father stood and picked up his sword.
“If you’re serious about integrating rune magic into combat…”
He drew the blade with a smooth metallic ring.
“…then you should first understand the spells that carried me through my early years.”
Magic power quietly gathered around the edge of his sword.
The air itself trembled.
“Rune Magic…” The runes beneath his feet lit up.
“… Astral Slash.”
With a single swing, a crescent blade of condensed magic power shot forward, slicing through the air before carving a clean line across several training dummies in the distance.
The attack wasn’t flashy.
It wasn’t explosive.
Yet its simplicity made it terrifying.
Minimal movement.
Minimal magic power consumption.
Maximum efficiency.
“The simpler a spell is,” Father said while lowering his blade, “the easier it is to use in real combat.”
He raised the sword once more.
This time, the magic power condensed only around its tip.
“Rune Magic…” The pressure became incredibly concentrated.
“…Magic Pierce.”
He thrust forward.
Rather than spreading outward like Magic power Slash, the spell compressed every bit of magic power into a single point before exploding forward in a straight line.
The training target wasn’t merely cut.
It was pierced clean through.
The hole left behind was so perfect that it almost looked unreal.
“A slash for wide attacks. A pierce for focused penetration. Different situations demand different answers.”
I quietly memorized every movement.
Every rune.
Every breath.
There was no wasted motion.
No unnecessary flourish.
Only absolute precision.
Just when I thought the lesson had ended, Father smiled.
“One more.”
His figure suddenly blurred.
In the blink of an eye, He disappeared.
A gust of wind swept across the training grounds.
Before I could even react, he was already standing several meters behind me.
“…What?” I hadn’t even seen him move.
“It isn’t teleportation,” Father said with a chuckle after noticing my stunned expression.
“It’s simply movement accelerated beyond what your eyes can naturally follow.”
He looked toward the glowing runes beneath his feet.
“Rune Magic…” The runic circle expanded around him.
“…Astral Stride.”
Magic power flowed through every muscle in his body, enhancing his movements with explosive speed while simultaneously sharpening his senses.
It wasn’t merely a spell that made him run faster—it heightened his perception of the world itself.
Every sound became clearer, every movement easier to predict, every shift in magic power impossible to ignore.
His body wasn’t just moving faster.
His mind was keeping up with that speed.
“If your body outruns your senses,” Father explained, “you’ll crash into your own mistakes.”
The words struck me harder than any attack could.
Power alone wasn’t enough.
Speed alone wasn’t enough.
Even overwhelming magic meant nothing if I couldn’t perceive the battlefield.
That was the true purpose of Astral Stride.
It wasn’t a spell created simply to move faster.
It was a spell that synchronized body, mind, and magic power into perfect harmony.
As I watched Father effortlessly traverse the training grounds, a realization slowly settled in my heart.
I had spent weeks thinking about which spells would make me stronger.
But strength wasn’t built by collecting powerful techniques.
It was built by understanding why those techniques existed in the first place.
Every spell carried a purpose.
Every rune solved a problem.
If I wanted to create magic worthy of calling my own…
then I first had to understand the philosophy behind every rune I learned.
Only then could I truly walk a path that belonged to me.
The day after Father approved of my plans, our training changed once again.
This time, he stopped treating me like a child who merely needed to learn the basics.
Instead, he began teaching me the spells he had personally developed early in his life, magic refined through years of experience, countless battles, and relentless research.
The spell carried a purpose, every incantation had a reason behind it, and every rune was the result of trial and error that had taken him decades to perfect.
The day after Father approved of my plans, our training changed once again.
This time, he stopped treating me like a child who merely needed to learn the basics.
Instead, he began teaching me the spells he had personally developed throughout his life—magic refined through years of experience, countless battles, and relentless research.
Every spell carried a purpose, every incantation had a reason behind it, and every rune was the result of trial and error that had taken him decades to perfect.
At the same time, Father didn’t simply force his own methods onto me.
Instead, he helped me shape my own.
He listened to every idea I had about combining magic with martial arts, pointing out the flaws in my theories while suggesting ways to improve them.
Together, we experimented with different combinations, searching for a balance between speed, strength, efficiency, and control.
On top of that, he also assisted me in researching the Rune Magic I had become obsessed with—Ether Cannon. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
It wasn’t enough for him that I could merely cast it; he wanted me to understand the principles behind it so that one day, I could improve upon it myself.
Looking back, I realized that every single day had become another lesson.
Not just in magic.
Not just in combat.
But in how to think.
Stabilizing Enhancement Rune Magic had become part of my daily routine.
At first, I only practiced maintaining the rune while performing ordinary physical exercises; running, weapon drills, balance training, and endurance workouts.
The rune constantly consumed my concentration, forcing me to remain aware of every strand of magic power flowing through my body.
Once Father decided I had become accustomed to it, he raised the difficulty.
“Now cast spells while maintaining the rune.”
Simple words.
A nightmare in practice.
The moment I split my attention between maintaining the Stabilizing Enhancement Rune and casting a spell, everything fell apart.
The rune fluctuated, the spell collapsed halfway through its formation, and if I forced both, the magic power pathways inside my body became unstable.
It felt like trying to write with one hand while solving complex equations with the other.
Yet Father merely smiled.
“Again.”
That single word became the anthem of my days.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Days slowly blended into weeks.
Not every day was filled with excitement.
Some mornings, my body begged for rest before I even stepped outside.
My muscles screamed in protest the moment I picked up my staff, while my mind felt exhausted from hours of maintaining precise magic power control.
To make matters worse…
Mother never allowed me to neglect my studies.
More than once, I shamelessly pleaded with her.
“Can’t I skip today’s lessons? Just this once?”
She would simply smile, a gentle smile that somehow carried more authority than Father’s stern expression.
“You may shorten your lessons to two hours.”
For a brief moment, hope would bloom inside me.
“…But you may not skip them.”
And just like that…
My dreams of escaping study time vanished.
In the end, two hours became the absolute minimum Mother would tolerate.
The rest of my day belonged entirely to training.
Morning began with physical conditioning while continuously maintaining Stabilizing Enhancement Rune.
Every movement demanded unwavering focus, and the longer I sustained it, the more natural it slowly became.
Afterward came spell integration.
I practiced casting offensive and support magic without allowing the rune to collapse.
Even the smallest lapse in concentration would cause either the spell or the rune to fail, forcing me to start from the beginning.
Finally…
The hardest part of the day.
Combat.
Father would stand across from me with his wooden staff resting casually on his shoulder, as though he were about to take a leisurely walk instead of dismantling every ounce of confidence I had.
“Maintain the rune. Cast your spells. Fight.”
Three simple commands.
Together, they were torture.
Every exchange became an exercise in impossible multitasking.
I had to maintain Stabilizing Enhancement Rune without interruption, weave spells between attacks, keep track of my magic power consumption, watch Father’s movements, predict his next strike, and still find opportunities to counterattack.
It wasn’t merely fighting anymore.
It was controlling several different battles inside my own mind while surviving the one happening in front of me.
The first time…
I lasted barely a minute.
By the time Father knocked the staff from my hands, my magic power control had completely collapsed.
My breathing was ragged, sweat drenched my body, and my head pounded as though someone had driven a spike through my skull.
I couldn’t understand how anyone could possibly do all of this simultaneously.
But Father could.
Which meant so could I.
If I worked hard enough.
The next day lasted a little longer.
Then another.
Little by little, failure stopped feeling like proof of my limits.
Instead, it became proof that I was improving.
A week later, I was surviving ten minutes.
Two weeks later…
Fifteen.
Then twenty.
Eventually thirty.
When I finally realized I had maintained the rune, cast multiple spells, and fought Father continuously for half an hour, I almost couldn’t believe it.
I hadn’t even noticed when the impossible had become normal.
Only then did I understand something.
Hard work alone hadn’t carried me this far.
The blessings I had received after reincarnating were quietly supporting every step I took.
Blessing of Wisdom dramatically accelerated my learning speed and deepened my comprehension, allowing me to grasp concepts that should have taken months in only a matter of days.
Patterns hidden within rune formations became clearer the more I studied them, and every mistake quickly transformed into another lesson.
Meanwhile, Archmage reduced the time required to construct and cast spells, making it possible to weave magic into combat without sacrificing precious moments.
Without it, maintaining the rune while casting would have been nearly impossible.
Finally, Perfect Health allowed my body to endure a training regimen that would have broken an ordinary child long ago.
My muscles recovered faster, my stamina steadily increased, and my body adapted to the relentless stress day after day.
For a moment, I wondered…
Would I have reached this point without those blessings?
Probably not.
But that didn’t mean they alone had made me stronger.
A blessing could shorten the path.
It could never walk it for me.
Every bruise, every failed spell, every sleepless night spent studying runes, every aching muscle after Father’s merciless training…
Those belonged to me.
And because they belonged to me…
So did the strength I was slowly forging.