A firm knock echoed through the room. Before Rohan could even react, the door swung open and Vikram strode inside without the slightest hesitation, his expression as calm as ever.
"Wake up, sleeping beauty," his deep voice cut through the silence of the early morning. Rohan barely had time to groan before a strong hand landed on his shoulder, shaking him roughly. "Come on."
Still trapped between sleep and wakefulness, Rohan slowly opened his eyes. For a brief moment, his vision remained blurry, but then, with the assistance of Perfect Control, his body responded instantly.
His muscles coordinated without the slightest delay. He sat up in one smooth motion before swinging his legs over the side of the bed, his feet touching the cool floor as he stood as steadily as if he had already been awake for hours.
A long yawn escaped his mouth. Without saying anything, he walked toward the window, his fingers grasping the curtains and pulling them apart.
The world outside remained wrapped in darkness. The streets beyond the house were silent, and the faint outline of distant buildings could barely be seen beneath the deep blue sky.
The sun hadn't risen yet. Rohan frowned, turning toward the clock beside his bed.
4:00 A.M.
His eyelids twitched. Slowly, he turned his head toward his father. "...Why did you wake me up this early?"
Vikram didn't look the least bit apologetic. He crossed his arms, his posture perfectly straight. "Why, of course. Because today is the day you're going to awaken your Prana."
His voice carried the same certainty it always did. "And I want you to awaken it today. Not tomorrow."
Rohan stared at him, but Vikram continued before he could complain. "Besides, you slept plenty yesterday. You went to bed early."
Rohan's expression immediately stiffened. His gaze drifted toward the floor, quietly avoiding eye contact.
Yeah... about that...
There was absolutely no chance he was going to admit the truth. After everyone had gone to sleep, he had spent hours scrolling through his phone.
By the time he finally put it down, it had been close to midnight. Four hours of sleep was all he had.
He stretched his shoulders, testing how his body felt. Surprisingly, it didn't feel bad at all.
There wasn't even the usual heaviness that followed a sleepless night. A small smile appeared on his face.
Thank goodness for Perfect Control. Without it, he'd probably still be lying in bed, struggling to lift his head.
He let out another quiet yawn. Vikram turned around, heading toward the doorway. "Let's go."
Without waiting for a response, he walked out of the room.
"Wait for me!" Rohan hurried after him, quickly opening his wardrobe to grab his training clothes.
The outfit looked simple at first glance—a dark shirt and comfortable training pants with nothing flashy about them. Yet, every piece had been crafted from an extraordinary material.
The fabric originated from a rare species of plants found within the Forest Dimension. Unlike ordinary cloth, these fibers possessed astonishing elasticity.
They could stretch to nearly ten times their original size without tearing before returning perfectly to their normal shape. Even during intense physical movement, the material never restricted his breathing or flexibility.
It clung comfortably to the body while allowing complete freedom of movement. Another remarkable property was its ability to absorb sweat almost instantly.
No matter how exhausting the training became, the fabric remained fresh and never produced any unpleasant odor. However, its greatest feature came only after skilled magicians had processed it.
The ordinary plant fibers had been transformed into magical equipment. As long as they received a steady supply of magic power—or Prana—the damaged fabric could slowly repair itself.
Small tears disappeared, loose threads rewove themselves, and even deep cuts gradually sealed shut. For martial artists who trained every day, such clothing was incredibly practical.
Rohan finished changing as quickly as possible. He slipped on his shoes, tightened the straps, and rushed into the hallway.
The house remained unusually quiet, with only the faint sound of his footsteps echoing through the corridor. A few moments later, he pushed open the heavy door leading to the training room.
The spacious room greeted him with a familiar silence. Its polished wooden floor reflected the dim lights hanging overhead.
Training weapons lined one side of the wall, while the center of the room remained completely empty, exactly where a sparring arena should be. Standing right in the middle of that open space was Vikram.
He wore a plain martial arts uniform without any unnecessary decoration. His posture was perfectly straight, and his breathing was slow and steady.
Even with his eyes closed, he gave off an invisible pressure that naturally drew attention. Hearing the door open, Vikram slowly opened his eyes, his gaze settling on Rohan.
"You take too long," his tone remained completely flat. "Just like a little girl."
Rohan's mouth immediately twitched. "Mom takes longer than I do," he muttered the words under his breath.
Unfortunately, Vikram heard every single syllable. He simply ignored the complaint as if it didn't exist, looking directly into Rohan's eyes.
"Tell me. How much do you know about Prana... and martial arts?"
The playful mood disappeared instantly, and Rohan became serious. He lowered his head slightly, organizing his thoughts before speaking.
After a few seconds, he nodded. "Prana is the life energy possessed by every living being. It doesn't matter whether it's a human, an animal, or even a plant."
"As long as something is alive... it possesses Prana."
Vikram remained silent, signaling him to continue.
"The greater the amount of Prana someone possesses, the greater their physical abilities become. Their endurance increases, their strength becomes greater, and their body heals faster."
"They can even live longer than ordinary people." He paused briefly before adding, "The most fundamental property of Prana is maintaining the condition of the body, soul, and mind."
A faint smile appeared on Vikram's face. "Good," his approval was brief. "Can you give me an example?"
Rohan nodded. "If someone is injured, their Prana naturally begins repairing the damage. The higher both the quantity and quality of their Prana, the faster their wounds heal."
"The same principle applies to the mind. If someone's psyche is damaged, Prana slowly restores it to its original condition."
"And if someone's soul is damaged, it can heal that as well. It's simply much slower than healing physical injuries."
Rohan looked at his father before finishing his thought. "The same goes for aging. The stronger someone's Prana becomes, the slower their body ages."
"There are even theories that if a person's Prana became powerful enough, they could achieve immortality."
Silence settled over the training room. Vikram gave a slow, deliberate nod.
"Correct. Everything you said about Prana is right."
He took a few measured steps across the wooden floor, his footsteps echoing softly through the spacious room before he stopped.
"But there is one more question." He looked directly at Rohan. "Do you know... how Prana is awakened?"
Rohan frowned slightly. He had read quite a few books about Prana, but most of them explained what it was rather than discussing the actual process of awakening it.
After thinking for several moments, he finally answered. "From what I understand, a person first has to reach the pinnacle of human physical potential."
"Only then can they attempt to use their Prana. If they successfully move it and extend it outside their body, they are recognized as a Rank One martial artist."
Vikram smiled faintly. "Correct. Someone capable of using Prana already stands in an entirely different league from someone who cannot."
"Even a beginner who has only just learned to coat their body with Prana gains tremendous defensive power. Ordinary bullets are no longer enough to seriously injure them."
"That's why extending Prana outside the body has become the standard for reaching Rank One."
Rohan listened carefully, noting that his father wasn't finished yet. Something about Vikram's expression suggested that the real lesson was only beginning.
Vikram folded his arms behind his back. "But in my eyes, that still doesn't make someone a true martial artist."
Rohan blinked, his brows slowly drawing together. "What do you mean?"
Vikram didn't answer immediately. Instead, he looked straight at him. "You."
Rohan pointed a thumb at himself. "Me?"
"Yes," Vikram's voice was steady. "With your superpower, Perfect Control, you can already move your Prana outside your body."
"If we judged only by that standard, you could be considered a Rank One martial artist. But that title would be meaningless. It wouldn't make you a true martial artist."
Rohan remained silent. He had never looked at it that way before, assuming that controlling Prana was all that mattered.
Apparently, that wasn't even the beginning.
"This is exactly why I took the entire day off," Vikram continued. "I'm not here to teach you how to force your Prana out. You already have the ability to do that."
"I'm here to teach you how to use it correctly."
The seriousness in his father's voice made Rohan instinctively straighten his back. The playful mood from earlier had completely vanished.
He asked quietly, "So... what should I do?"
Vikram raised one finger. "First, you need to understand what Prana actually is."
He walked slowly across the training room while speaking. "Prana is formed from two things: physical energy and willpower."
Rohan listened without interrupting as Vikram continued.
"Most beginners make the same mistake. They believe moving Prana is no different from moving magic power, so they rely on their minds."
"They use mental energy to guide it. It works, but only to a certain point."
He stopped walking and turned around to face his son. "A true martial artist doesn't control Prana with mental energy. They control it with their will."
The words echoed through the quiet room. Rohan frowned slightly.
At first glance, the two sounded almost identical. Mental energy and willpower—what was the actual difference?
Seeing the confusion on his face, Vikram explained further. "If someone continues relying on mental energy forever, they'll never reach the level of someone who moves Prana through pure will."
"Their control will always be slower, less flexible, and less natural."
Rohan lowered his head, carefully replaying his previous attempts at controlling Prana in his mind. Every single time, he had concentrated as hard as he could.
He had focused entirely on sensing every tiny movement, practically forcing it to obey. Not once had he thought about using only his will.
Vikram noticed the thoughtful look in his son's eyes. "Think back to before you awakened Perfect Control. How difficult was it for you to move your Prana?"
Rohan didn't even need time to answer. "It was incredibly hard."
He still remembered those countless failed attempts, the hours of concentration, and the exhausting exercises. Despite all of it, the results had barely improved.
"It felt like I was trying to move something that simply refused to listen."
Vikram nodded. "Exactly. And why do you think that happened?"
Rohan opened his mouth, then closed it again. He couldn't answer.
"Because you were trying to control it with your mind," Vikram answered for him. "You were using mental energy, and that's why every movement felt forced."
He took another slow step forward. "But everything changed after you obtained Perfect Control."
Rohan nodded. That much was undeniably true; the difference had been absolutely enormous.
Before obtaining his superpower, moving Prana felt like dragging an enormous boulder uphill. Afterward, it moved almost effortlessly.
"You've already experienced something that very few people ever do," Vikram's voice became quieter, dropping into a serious register. "You experienced what it feels like when Prana responds instantly."
"You didn't need endless concentration, and you didn't need to force it. It simply obeyed."
Rohan slowly realized what his father was trying to get at. "...Because of Perfect Control."
"Exactly." Vikram gave a satisfied nod. "Perfect Control allowed you to experience the result, but it didn't teach you the method. It merely replaced it."
Rohan's expression gradually turned grave. He finally understood.
His superpower had skipped the process entirely. It gave him the final destination without showing him the actual road that led there.
"If you truly master controlling Prana through willpower," Vikram continued, "you'll only need to will it. No conscious guidance, no complicated concentration, and no unnecessary mental effort."
"You simply decide... and your Prana moves."
Rohan unconsciously imagined it—just willing his Prana to move without any concentration or mental exhaustion. It sounded almost unbelievable.
"Does it really make that much of a difference?"
"It does," Vikram answered without a shred of hesitation. "The difference isn't small. It's overwhelming."
He raised his hand. "If someone with tremendous mental strength requires one full second to activate their Prana..." He lowered his finger. "...a martial artist who uses pure willpower can do the same thing in mere milliseconds."
Rohan's eyes widened. Milliseconds wasn't just faster; it was an entirely different level of existence.
"And that's only the beginning," Vikram continued. "The more accomplished a martial artist becomes, the shorter that delay grows. Their Prana responds almost the instant the thought exists."
For several seconds, neither of them spoke. Rohan's imagination ran wild as he turned the concept over in his head.
If Prana could move that quickly, then every attack, every defense, and every single movement would become incomparably faster. A grin slowly spread across his face, his eyes sparkling with pure excitement.
"So... how do I train my willpower?"
This time, Vikram answered immediately. "The first step..." He looked directly into Rohan's eyes. "...is turning off your Perfect Control."
The smile on Rohan's face instantly froze. "...What?"
For a moment, he genuinely thought he had misheard. Turn it off? His superpower?
Since the day he had awakened it, Perfect Control had always been active. Breathing, walking, moving—everything had become completely effortless.
He had never once considered turning it off. In fact, he wasn't even entirely sure he could.
His expression became uncertain. "...Do I really have to?"
"Yes," Vikram's answer contained no hesitation whatsoever. "If you continue relying on it, you'll never learn to use your own will."
Rohan looked down at his hands, slowly opening and closing his fingers. The movements felt perfectly smooth and flawlessly precise.
Part of him didn't want to lose that feeling, not even for a brief moment. But another part understood exactly why his father was insisting on this.
If Perfect Control kept doing everything for him, then he would never truly learn how to do it himself. He took a slow, heavy breath.
"...Alright."
He closed his eyes. Then, for the first time since obtaining his superpower, he willingly deactivated Perfect Control.
The change came instantly.
The moment Perfect Control disappeared, Rohan staggered. His body suddenly felt completely unfamiliar.
His balance wavered for an instant, forcing him to plant his feet firmly against the wooden floor before he could steady himself. He stood frozen, his fingers twitching uncomfortably.
He slowly raised one hand in front of his face, but the movement felt strangely sluggish. It wasn't because he was physically weak, but because his body no longer responded with flawless precision.
It was as if every action carried the slightest delay, requiring conscious effort for every single muscle. Every movement felt frustratingly rough.
He clenched his fist. The simple action that had once been effortless now felt awkward, his fingers closing unevenly before finally forming a tight grip.
A deep frown appeared on his face. Why did this feel so incredibly strange?
He took a cautious step forward. The floor beneath his feet hadn't changed, and his body hadn't changed either, yet the sensation was completely different.
It felt as though he were trying to move underwater, with an invisible resistance pressing against every single motion. His arms felt heavier, and his legs refused to obey as naturally as before.
Even breathing felt slightly different. Rohan instinctively tried to move faster, but his foot landed a fraction later than he expected.
His shoulders shifted awkwardly, and his balance nearly collapsed again. He quickly caught himself before falling, his heartbeat speeding up in sudden panic.
Only now did he realize something critical. Since obtaining Perfect Control, he had completely forgotten what moving normally felt like.
The superpower had quietly corrected every tiny mistake his body made—every unnecessary movement, every wasted bit of strength, and every minor imbalance. All the flaws had disappeared so naturally that he had never even noticed them.
Now, all of those imperfections had returned at once. He slowly flexed his fingers again, and while they obeyed, they just didn't do so perfectly.
An uncomfortable silence filled the training room. Vikram observed him without interrupting, allowing Rohan to experience every awkward movement for himself.
After nearly a minute, Rohan finally looked up, swallowing hard. "This... feels terrible."
Vikram gave a slow nod. "It should."
Rohan glanced down at his own body again. "I feel like I'm wearing chains. Like everything has become heavier, and my body doesn't seem to listen to me anymore."
He tried rotating his wrist. The movement looked normal enough from the outside, yet to him, it felt completely wrong.
Vikram stepped closer. "Your body hasn't become weaker. It only feels that way."
He folded his arms. "You spent so much time experiencing perfect control over every movement that ordinary movement now feels painfully inefficient."
Rohan remained silent. The explanation made perfect sense, but knowing the reason didn't make the physical sensation any easier to bear.
His body almost felt broken, not because anything was actually wrong, but because he had become completely accustomed to perfection.
Vikram looked him directly in the eyes. "Remember this feeling."
Rohan blinked. "...Why?"
"Because one day... it might save your life."
The atmosphere inside the training room grew noticeably heavier.
"There are people capable of suppressing another person's superpower," Vikram explained calmly. "They can't do it against everyone, but if the difference in strength is large enough, they can temporarily seal your ability."
The words sent a cold chill straight down Rohan's spine. Until now, he had never even considered that possibility, assuming Perfect Control would remain with him no matter what happened.
"What do you think would happen if that occurred during a battle?" Vikram asked.
Rohan lowered his head, needing only a split second to imagine the nightmare. An enemy suppressed his superpower, his movements suddenly became sluggish, and his body no longer responded the way he expected.
His timing would collapse, and his balance would falter. Against an opponent strong enough to seal his ability, even a single mistake would be fatal.
His expression gradually turned grim. "...I'd lose."
"Most likely," Vikram didn't soften the answer at all. "You've relied on Perfect Control too much. If someone takes it away, this will become your greatest weakness."
The words struck Rohan harder than he expected. He had always viewed Perfect Control as his ultimate advantage, never stopping to think that depending on it too much could one day become a fatal flaw.
Vikram's voice remained calm and grounding. "That's why you're learning this now. I don't want your strength to depend on a single ability. I want it to become your own."
Rohan slowly tightened his fists. The awkward sensation was still there, but he chose to ignore it as his breathing gradually steadied.
The discomfort remained, yet his determination grew much stronger. "I understand."
A faint smile crossed Vikram's face. "Good."
He uncrossed his arms, and without any warning, Vikram moved. His foot pressed lightly against the wooden floor, and in the next instant, his figure shot forward.
The distance between them vanished almost instantly. Rohan's pupils contracted as his instincts screamed in alarm.
Even without Perfect Control, he could tell how fast his father was moving. He's coming!
Almost on reflex, Rohan tried to step backward. His mind reacted immediately, but his body didn't.
The unfamiliar sluggishness delayed his movement by the smallest fraction of a second, but it was enough. Before he could regain his balance, Vikram had already reached him.