Aetheric Chronicles: Reborn As An Extra

The scene shifted to Adrian's private training hall, the one that had once belonged to his father. Wooden magic dummies stood at the ready, about five of them arranged in a loose formation.

"Five should be alright for the beginning," he muttered taking a steadying breath, setting his gaze on the five wooden dummies. He knew each one was enchanted with reactive spells—designed to respond to his presence and simulate attacks based on his proximity. Each would strike at random, forcing him to stay alert and constantly move.

And each of them had an equal power to a Lunar Adept physical type Awakener.

"Start!" he called.

The first dummy lurched forward, its wooden arm swinging toward him. Adrian sidestepped, feeling the rush of air as he narrowly avoided the hit. The second dummy pivoted, launching a swift jab.

He ducked, barely slipping past it.

His foot caught on the ground as he spun away, causing him to stumble. Yet before he could regain balance, another dummy thrust toward him, its wooden arm crashing into his shoulder. He staggered, and pain shot up his side as he hit the floor.

Gritting his teeth, Adrian pushed himself up.

'No stopping.'

He steadied himself, then slipped back into position, eyes darting over the dummies, mapping their subtle shifts and rotations.

'Anticipate, then move. React faster,'

he told himself.

He surged forward again, weaving between attacks.

He wasn't quick enough; another blow struck his side, nearly knocking the wind out of him. His reflexes strained against the dummies' assault, testing him from every angle. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his body alert yet tiring. And yet—somewhere in his mind, something began to click.

'Faster. React faster.'

Instinctually, he let himself slip into moments of heightened focus, everything seeming to slow by just a fraction. Just enough for him to make a split-second dodge. As he leaned back from an incoming strike, the world felt… different. He was reacting—barely in time. And yet, for the first time since he began this relentless training, it felt within reach.

But his confidence was fleeting.

Another dummy's arm swung at him from behind, striking his back with a dull thud and sending him sprawling again. Adrian pressed his palm into the floor, steadying himself, then forced himself back to his feet.

The dummies launched at him once more, yet each time he fell, he rose again, taking note of the patterns in his mind, honing his reflexes.

He felt his reactions sharpening, his movements tightening, becoming fluid and natural. When the dummies closed in, he found himself slipping into small, fragmented moments of intense clarity, dodging just before each blow could land.

At last, he managed a rhythm, evading the dummies' attacks with increasingly smooth, almost effortless movements. A small smirk crept across his face. He had finally found the flow.

Yet a thought struck him:

'Comfort is the enemy of growth.'

He couldn't afford to feel at ease.

He strode to the side of the hall and called out, "Add three more dummies!"

The enchantments buzzed to life as three additional dummies positioned themselves in the formation, joining the fray.

Adrian took a deep breath, feeling the challenge rise anew, his body once more pressed to its limits. He charged forward, determined not to stop, knowing each strike he dodged was bringing him one step closer to mastering himself. His new powers that his body and mind had yet to adapt.

___ __ _

After hours of relentless training, Adrian finally called a pause. His body ached, sweat soaked his clothes, and his arms felt like lead. But there was a satisfaction in the weight of his exhaustion, a feeling of hard-won progress.

Stay tuned with empire

He took a deep breath, steadying himself, then made his way to a small corner of the hall where he'd set aside a packed lunch. Margery insisted on him eating with them but eventually agreed to deliver his lunch here.

Seated on the floor, he let himself unwind.

His mind replayed the morning's session—the dummies' swift, coordinated strikes, the thuds from every hit he hadn't dodged in time, and the flash of satisfaction when he'd finally slipped between their attacks. He wasn't there yet, but the glimpses of precision in his movements were growing.

After resting and eating, Adrian returned to his training hall, muscles still protesting slightly but his mind sharp and ready. He faced the hall once more, this time increasing the stakes even more.

"Start!" he called, and the dummies sprang to life, now with eight attackers advancing in an unpredictable rhythm.

He felt the challenge rise with every step. The dummies moved faster now, and each attack was more refined, more precise. He dodged, twisted, and ducked through the onslaught, forcing himself to maintain his focus.

Each step brought him deeper into a state of hyper-awareness where he could almost feel time shift, each moment stretching slightly, giving him just enough leeway to evade. His dodges became instinctive, like breathing.

Hours slipped by, with Adrian adding more and more dummies to the mix each time he grew comfortable. By nightfall, over thirty enchanted dummies filled the training hall, each one tracking his movements, launching strikes with calculated precision. Adrian was a blur, dancing between the wooden forms with a fluidity that belied the intensity of the attacks around him.

From the outside, it looked like a complex, almost graceful performance, with Adrian weaving through a labyrinth of attacks. He was barely even aware of his own motions anymore; his body seemed to know what to do before he consciously registered the need to move.

And when he made mistakes—when an arm grazed his shoulder or a swing brushed past his side—he adjusted, quickly slipping out of reach and diving back into the rhythm.

With a final twist, Adrian spun out of the reach of the last dummy and held his position, his breaths deep and measured. His heart pounded, but a rare satisfaction filled him.

He could feel the fruit of his training in the way his body responded, the instinctive nature of his movements, and the harmony he'd found between himself and the time-distorting abilities that flowed through him.

But he knew his limits.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

As much as he wanted to keep going, to push himself even further, he understood that overtraining could be his downfall. He straightened, running a hand over his damp face and looking around at the still dummies scattered through the hall.

"Tomorrow, then," he murmured, a faint smile lingering as he left the hall for the night, his mind already setting its sights on the next level of his secret training.

Well, it might be correct to call it recovering rather than training.