Kind Demon King

I gritted my teeth with frustration as another crystal shattered violently, its fragments scattered across the chamber floor. The burst of energy that had surged through it was uncontrolled, erratic, and far from the precision I needed.

“Take a deep breath, Champion. We have many more of them.”

Aurora tried to assure me with a patient tone.

“Your impatience and frustration affect your performance. Take a deep breath and try to calm down.”

I clenched my fists, feeling the heat rising within me—not just from the effort, but from the growing frustration gnawing at my focus. I took a deep breath and wiped the sweat from my face. Despite just sitting motionless for an hour, my body was drenched with sweat. The air in the chamber was thick, saturated with mana and the remnants of shattered crystals, but I forced myself to breathe slowly, deeply.

I thought that I could have no problems with focusing thanks to my Unwavering Focus skill yet as my failures started to pile up, it became harder and harder to focus on the task on my hand. The task was simple enough, I just had to channel enough mana to create light. The difficulty stemmed from if I channeled more mana than necessary, even just slightly more the crystal would shatter. If I didn’t channel enough, well it created no light.

I sighed. It was like opening a bag of chips. If I put little power it wouldn’t open and if I put more power then it would spill to the ground. I stared at the scattered fragments, feeling the weight of each failure. The simplicity of the task only made it more infuriating. I had faced countless battles, taken down foes far stronger than me, yet here I was, struggling with something as basic as creating a little light.

Aurora’s voice cut through my thoughts. “This exercise isn’t just about creating light. It’s about precision, control, and restraint. You’re accustomed to using your power in large bursts, but here, you need to focus on the smallest details.”

I took another deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. The Unwavering Focus skill was supposed to help me maintain concentration, but it was clear that even it had its limits, or rather I simply wasn’t able to fulfill the requirements. Even though it was a passive skill, I had to make a conscious effort to focus on it to show its full effect.

Aurora handed me another crystal, her expression calm and encouraging. “Try again, but this time, don’t think about the end result. Focus solely on the flow of mana. Feel it, guide it gently. Don’t force it.”

I nodded, closing my eyes and taking the crystal in my hand. I cleared my mind of distractions, pushing away the frustration and focusing entirely on the task. I imagined the mana within me as a steady stream, not a raging river. This was drastically different than how I wielded mana before. To survive against even the most dire odds, to acquire victory off the jaws of my enemies and protect others I always tried to image and channel the most destructive forces.

A wolf that’s been starving for weeks closing its jaws around its prey. A winter so rash that it freezes the running water. My sword splitting a mountain apart.

By engraving those images in my head, I aimed to surpass the limitations of my mind, to bring out a force transcending my current self.

And now, it only caused me problems.

So I had to change how I thought. Change the images I engrave on my head.

I visualized the mana as something softer, gentler—a calm breeze rustling through the leaves, a stream flowing smoothly over rocks, the delicate touch of a feather landing on water. My grip on the crystal tightened just slightly, enough to maintain a connection but not enough to impose force upon it. I allowed the mana to flow, guiding it with care, with a sense of harmony rather than dominance.

The crystal began to glow faintly, a soft, steady light emanating from its core. It wasn’t a blinding flash or a violent eruption like before. This was different—controlled, measured, and, most importantly, sustainable. I could feel the mana balancing perfectly within the crystal, neither too much nor too little, just the right amount to create a stable light.

Aurora’s voice was quiet, almost reverent. “Good. Very good. Now, hold it. Keep the flow steady.”

An urge popped into my head. To push more mana into it. To make the light brighter. It called me weak and soft. It whispered to me how what I was doing right now would weaken me somehow. It was my insecurity, my mindset to ruthlessly destroy myself to achieve what I needed. I pushed the urge away, refusing to give in. The temptation to make the light brighter, to channel more power, was strong—it was what I was used to, what I had trained for. But this exercise wasn't about power; it was about control.

The crystal continued to glow softly in my hand, a testament to my newfound control. I focused on keeping the mana flow steady, resisting the impulse to do more, to push further. The light remained constant, unwavering, as I maintained the connection between my mana and the crystal.

Aurora watched me with a satisfied smile, her eyes reflecting approval. "You’re doing well, Champion. Remember this feeling, this balance. Power is important, but without control, it becomes a double-edged sword."

I held the steady light for a few moments longer, then carefully released the mana. The crystal dimmed and finally went dark, but it remained intact—a small victory that felt monumental at this moment. I let out a slow breath, feeling a mixture of relief and accomplishment.

“So. What is the next step?”

I asked, happy that this part was over. Aurora gave me a symphatic smile.

“We are going to repeat this several times to make sure you grasp it fully.”

I made a noise that was half laugh and half cry.

…

“48, 49, 50!”

My quads burned as my core muscles strained to balance Artemeni who was on my shoulders. She wore a weight vest just like me but the main difficulty I was having was due to gravity magic pressing down on my body. I squatted down once again and felt my body lighten up. I looked at Aurora with questioning eyes.

“I can do more.”

Aurora held her head.

“I can’t, Champion. I still have enough mana but maintaining gravity magic for this long requires a lot of mental power.”

I lifted Artemeni off my shoulders like she was a child who made a weird face, clearly not used to people treating her as if she weighed nothing.

“Sorry. I forgot about that.”

I watched Artemeni adjust the weight vest as I controlled my breath to recover my stamina. Physical training was what I focused on besides mana control training and the moment I learned Aurora could control gravity I took advantage of it. Even without using mana to reinforce my body, I was too strong so even the weights Artemeni brought didn’t help that much unless I did many repetitions. But with Aurora increasing the gravity, I could get a good workout in.

It was good. Even though I worked out and trained my body, I wasn’t able to solely focus on physical fitness. My weakness at that part showed itself when I was fully pushed to the brink, like the time I fought against Morrigan.

“Alright. You ready?”

I breathed in deeply and took my fighting stance.

“Yes. Thanks for the lessons!”

Artemeni squared, facing me as Aurora pulled a wine bottle from somewhere. I was doubtful that wine would help with headaches and mental power but hey, I wasn't the Archmage.

Artemeni darted forward, her movements fluid and almost graceful despite the added weight. I parried her first strike to the side but she quickly followed with a series of rapid strikes at my torso. I blocked the first few, feeling the impact through my arms, but she was relentless. She was strong. Maybe not strong as me or talented as the Queen herself but she definitely deserved her title as a Commander.

However, she had a flaw. This world wasn’t like Earth. Back on Earth, with the Internet and global travel, information was shared widely and instantly. That included fighting techniques. We could take the best aspects of various styles and evolve them into something more complete. Her style was something simple, more akin to how prizefighters fought before boxing was a real sport. While it was clear that she knew what she was doing and had been in real fights, it was too rigid to work against me.

Artemeni's strikes came in quick succession, each one precise and calculated. I deflected another blow aimed at my ribs, using the momentum to pivot on my heel and create distance between us. Artemeni narrowed her eyes, chasing me down with the intensity of a bull. Just as I expected.

I lowered my stance, ducking under her cross and delivering a strike powerful enough to make her frown even though the weight vest. She answered with a hook which I answered by raising my shoulder, letting it roll off harmlessly as I slammed my fist into her liver. She took several steps back, clearly hurt. I followed her, angling myself to cut her path, and delivered a brutal low kick to her thigh. Her eyes widened with shock and I remembered my Muay Thai instructor telling me how Western kickboxers weren’t able to deal with low kicks when they first encountered them.

Artemeni grunted as my kick connected, her balance wavering for a split second. That was all the opening I needed. I surged forward, capitalizing on her momentary loss of composure. My fist lashed out, aiming for her sternum, but Artemeni recovered quickly, raising her forearm to block the strike. The impact resonated through both our arms, a testament to her strength and resilience.

But I wasn’t done. I followed up with a swift combination—jab, cross, and then another low kick aimed at the same spot. This time, Artemeni anticipated the move, shifting her stance to absorb the impact more effectively but not raising her leg to “check” the kick. She countered with a powerful overhand right, aiming straight for my head.

I leaned back just in time, feeling the air displaced by her punch as it whizzed past my face. She had power, no doubt, but it didn’t mean jackshit unless it connected. I feinted a low kick, and when she braced for it, I switched my center of balance, turning it into a head kick. The blow connected with the side of her head, sending her staggering to the side. Artemeni barely managed to stay on her feet, shaking her head to clear the daze.

She lunged at me again, but this time, her movements were more fluid, more unpredictable. She was finally adapting. Her strikes came in from unexpected angles, forcing me to stay on my toes. I blocked, dodged, and countered as best as I could, but Artemeni’s newfound adaptability was putting me on the defensive.

I was impressed. She was learning quickly, adjusting her style in real time. Good. Things would get boring otherwise.