Christopher POV:
Christopher realized his progress, while significant, couldn't rely solely on the Astral Plain's accelerated training.
He still needed fundamental, real-world combat discipline that transcended simulated scenarios and mana-enhanced reflexes.
He needed to be able to fight with nothing but his body and a keen mind, a skill Akira already possessed in spades.
That's when he turned to his butler, Reid.
Reid, a former Marine, moved with an understated efficiency that spoke volumes of his past.
In the manor's home gym, Reid taught Christopher several Jiu-Jitsu techniques, focusing on leverage, joint locks, and ground control—skills that bypassed brute strength and relied on technique.
Reid seemed almost proud of what Christopher had come to accomplish in little over a month.
Reid had specifically taught Christopher Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu.
This relied on technical attacks and an approach much like Christopher's own to mana.
They sparred relentlessly every day, the sounds of grunts and impacts replacing the usual quiet hum of the manor.
Reid didn't hold back, pushing Christopher past exhaustion, correcting every minute angle and emphasizing fluid movement.
..
One day while they were training during a spar Reid questioned Christopher about his sudden interest in self defence and physical training.
"I just decided to man up Reid," Christopher replied.
Realizing that this curt excuse most likely wouldn't fool his ward he continued,as he ducked under one of Reid's kicks and shuffling back to create some space for himself.
"Crime rate has been increasing lately, you know. Rather safe than sorry right?"
Christopher released a powerful jab aimed directly at Reid's temple using everything he had.
Reid scoffed as he caught Christopher's jab and twisted his arm into a most uncomfortable angle and pinned Christopher to the ground.
Reid scoffed, knowing that Christopher was withholding the entire truth from him.
"Is that the only reason?" Reid continued to probe.
Christopher reluctantly sighed. He knew he'd have to lie to Reid but it felt wrong. A pang of guilt resounded in his heart as the gears in his head spun to formulate a believable tale.
Then he spoke, "Yes Reid… that's the only reason."
He glared back at Reid who was holding him by the arm and neck restrained.
Just then a news report caught both of their attentions.
Sore and frustrated, Christopher gained a profound new respect for the man who was more than just a butler, but a steadfast, unwavering guardian.
After all, ever since his parents passed, Reid had always been by his side.
….
It was during his third brutal spar with Akira in the Astral Plain that something clicked.
Christopher had tried to will mana for a simple dodge, but instead, a shimmering, complex pattern of light flared around him— 'a spell form' ,he thought.
He instinctively knew it was a physical strengthening spell, composed of hundreds of intricate, glowing magic runes.
His mind, without conscious effort, was already dissecting its precise structure, identifying the three thousand singular magical characters, of which if any were incorrect, the magic formula would change, and the spell would be altered.
Akira, for once, was speechless. He'd explained that even elite Astras could only vaguely sense the flow of a magic formula, interpreting its intent rather than its structure.
To physically read the entire sequence of runes, to understand their intricate syntax, was considered impossible, a feat beyond human comprehension.
"You could disarm an Astra mid-spell," Akira had whispered under his breath, awe in his voice. A scary thought…
Akira wondered for a moment if he could even fight against Christopher if he was to become an Astra.
Christopher suspected his abnormally high IQ was the key, turning abstract mana into a language he could decipher.
It was a terrifying, exhilarating advantage, one he intended to exploit.
…
As weeks bled into months, a new shadow began to creep across the city.
Christopher and Akira, monitoring the underworld, started picking up whispers, then undeniable evidence, of an increasingly powerful radical force.
They called themselves "Spectre."
What truly chilled them were the reports of Astras within their ranks—not just one, but several.
This wasn't supposed to be possible. Beyond Akira and to his own knowledge there were no other known Astras who weren't government assets.
'Spectre' was a game-changer, a dark mirror to their own fight against the corrupt system.
Four months had passed since Christopher's first agonizing training session. His physical improvement was immense, but he was acutely aware of its limits.
Hand-to-hand combat, even with the aid of his physical strengthening spell, was but a precarious gamble against an Astra.
The spell itself, while allowing him to deliver considerable damage, could also rip his own body apart if he pushed too much mana through it.
In order to utilize mana, he'd need to be extremely accurate with his usage of it as if walking a tightrope, a delicate balance that demanded extensive understanding of its runes.
This precision was crucial, just as his newfound ability to instantly decipher an opponent's magical formula mid-combat was vital.
It was his weapon, allowing him to foresee their every move, but he still needed the physical strength and control to survive their response.
Point being, he still needed to train like hell.
…
Akira POV:
The view from above the city was majestic as he flew through the night sky using his flame jets.
The cold wind hitting his face reminded him of the night they escaped the facility, a few short years ago.
It was crazy how much time had passed since his entire sector had planned that escape, hoping they'd all make it out together.
His best friend back then, Blyke, was a scaredy-cat, but he was always optimistic.
Akira remembered his plan: to go to the ocean once they were free.
He just hoped Blyke survived and was able to at least realize his dream.
Akira landed near a small military base, at the site where some criminals, supposedly part of Spectre, were gathering to steal weapons and ammunition.
Exerting a burst of mana, he released his killing intent, sending a wave that collided with the ambient mana and surged towards the group.
They were all stopped dead in their tracks.
Over the comms, he heard Chris's voice. "Akira, there's been a sudden surge of mana from this area. Watch your back; there could be another Astra here."
As he landed, Akira's fist, brimming with mana, collided with the solid concrete floor. The shockwave radiated outwards, causing the ground to crack and shake, sending the closest criminals flying.
The rest rushed him in groups, but their footwork and overall fighting were amateur at best.
In a flurry of fists Akira began his assault against the armed battalion. Using a mix of martial arts as well as maneuvering around with his flame steps, Akira danced through the swarm of attacks.
Some collected solid jabs from him and others were brought down by kicks. It was clear that Akira was a cut above all those who had attacked him.
These grown men, for all their bravado, were being made fools of by a mere teenager, Astra or not.
Within five minutes, he had narrowed their numbers down to sixteen.
Three men charged him: two wielding metal pipes and one with a knife.
Akira jumped high into the air, and using their momentum, he shoved the knife-wielding man with straight black hair directly into his accomplice behind him, who was preparing a pipe strike.
'Pachikk!'
They collided, and the pipe-wielder cried out as the knife plunged into his abdomen.
'Aaaarrghh! ' He cried out in pain.
Meanwhile, Akira kicked the other one coming from his right with a mid-air side kick to the face, the sole of his shoe practically digging into his forehead.
With that, only thirteen remained. He continued fighting.
After another five minutes, only five men were left.
Four were armed and in a fighting stance, but one was just standing there, hands in his hoodie pockets.
His hoodie was up, obscuring his features, but he seemed different from the rest of these thugs.
His aura was rather menacing, and yet Akira could sense no killing intent. The four who rushed him were dealt with quickly.
Now, it was just him and the hooded figure…
Akira stared at him for a brief moment, then snickered. This arrogant bastard. He'd let him get out of here to send his boss a message.
"Hey you," Akira called out, "get out of here while you can and send this message to your boss."
The hooded figure didn't reply, didn't try to run or attack. He just stood there, staring at Akira.
"Tell him I'm coming for him," Akira continued.
The hooded figure then began to laugh. Was this guy a maniac or what? The inability to get a read on him whatsoever was infuriating.
His maniacal laughter halted.
He stood in silence for a moment as if choosing his words.
Then he responded in a deep, sarcastic tone, "You're coming for me? Don't make me laugh!"
He stamped his foot on the ground, and a storm of mana rushed towards Akira.
Akira couldn't sense what type of spell it was, nor could he sense his opponent's mana level at all.
A barrage of dark, amethyst-colored crystal shards flew his way at supersonic speed. With his enhanced speed, he was barely able to dodge.
So this was where the surge of mana Chris mentioned came from.
Although unsure Akira could most definitely assume.
This guy was definitely stronger than him.
Akira needed to get out of here A.S.A.P., but his opponent wasn't going to let him.
He would have to fight him, or at least stall for enough time to get a chance to escape.
He thought to himself 'We've already made some noise… authorities are going to be here soon.'
Akira concentrated, allowing the flow of mana his body produced to surge throughout his entire being.
His mana was spread thin, having just fought against his entire army.
He got into a fighting stance and eyed his hooded opponent down….
'I'll just have to use speed and try to take care of him as quickly as possible.'
He boosted forward at top speed towards the hooded figure.
To at least stand a fighting chance against him, he needed to clear the distance, hoping his opponent couldn't match him in close combat.
As he closed in, Akira felt the air around him weigh down. Was this gravity control?
He could no longer fly, and his speed plummeted.
The hooded figure lunged forward, and in his hand, as he surged, Akira saw his weapon materializing, almost as if it had always been there.
His casting speed was way faster than Akira's. The hilt of his dagger was tightly wrapped in a cloth-like material, and his blade was the same color as the shards he'd attacked with earlier.
The blade seemed too beautiful to be a weapon; it was like he was wielding an amethyst crystal.
When the hooded figure was about five feet away from him, Akira began materializing his sword. His long sword, shining red from mana, formed just in time.
He used the blade to clash with the hooded figure's amethyst blade.
His opponent had already imbued mana into his blade, clearly going for the kill.
Akira met his blade with his own, lacing it thickly with red-hot flames .
Their clash stayed for a few seconds, and in that instant, Akira could feel his opponent's pain: a never-ending, lonely pain.
His opponent's eyes were filled with hate and regret, and his jet-black hair that looked almost like Christopher's swayed rapidly as the wind from their clash spread around.
Akira's own blonde hair was flailing wildly as the ground around them cracked even more, now becoming a full crater.
As the surging forces clashed against one another, neither one backing down Akira tried yelling out to his opponent.
"Stop this! We can save this world together!"
A desperate cry. An attempt to reason with his adversary.
The only response he got was more mana surging and so he continued to channel his power into his blade so as not to lose to the leader of Spectre.
"Never!" The familiar stranger spat. His voice filled with disdain.
The world shook and spun around him and an ocean of ambient mana churned in a whirlpool of destruction as the world lit up momentarily.
'BOOM!'
A loud explosion rang out like the sound of a bomb going off.
Both Akira and the other hooded Figure were pushed back by the force of the blast, flung away like ragdolls.
In that instant, Akira was able to use his flame jets to get away, his opponent looking directly at him as he left.
The hooded figure then suddenly sank into his own shadow, together with his henchmen who sunk into theirs.
On the flight back, Akira couldn't help but contemplate the battle.
The hooded figure vaguely reminded him of his best friend, Blyke, from the training facility.
His smile used to be radiant and gave all of them hope.
Akira couldn't see his face clearly in the dark, but he was certain that the figure resembled Blyke.
That was only speculation, but if that really was Blyke, then that was a serious problem, because then he would be the leader of Spectre.
Akira decided not to tell Chris about Blyke and just head home instead of going to the base.
..
He headed home after telling Chris to go home over comms.
When Akira got home to his two-room apartment, he cleaned up the cup noodles packages that were all over the floor and took a nice cold bath.
He went to bed, but checked his phone to see a message from Chris saying he had a surprise for him, to head to his house tomorrow.
Akira replied "ok, sure".
He had a hard time falling to sleep, but he eventually did manage to fall asleep.
...