He finished listening to her explanation, his wide, curious eyes lighting up as he exclaimed, "Wow… isn’t that awesome? At this point, aren’t I stronger than you?" His voice dripped with playful sarcasm as he added, "Auntie."


Her response came swiftly—a smack to his head. "Yes, it’s awesome," she replied, her tone firm, "but—" she paused for dramatic effect, "--the ability is too awesome for you."


As always, he interrupted. "What does that even mean?"


She fixed him with a serious gaze. "It means your ability is too strong for you to handle right now. It’s mentally damaging."


His expression fell, disappointment flickering across his face. Noticing his dejection, she softened her tone. "Without proper training, you won’t be able to control it. Worse, you could end up hurting yourself… or the people you care about."


"Oh," he said after a moment of thought, his voice gaining a hint of determination. "So, I just need training, right?"


She nodded, though her expression remained firm. "Not just any training. This won’t be a small, easy course."


He grinned, brushing off her warning. "Fine. My headaches are gone, though. Doesn’t that mean my mastery over Aetherial Sense has improved?"


Her sarcastic glare could’ve burned through steel. "The headaches are gone because we temporarily disabled your ability."


His voice rose in mock outrage. "How?!"


She smirked. "A hunter under my command has the ability to numb senses. We used their power to partially suppress yours. It works because your ability is still weak."


He let out a long sigh, clearly deflated, but she reached out to ruffle his hair. "So," she teased, "should I start training you now?"


His mood flipped instantly. His eyes sparkled with excitement. "Yes!"


The next morning, he found himself standing at the base of a serene, misty mountain. His head throbbed slightly—Aetherial Sense pulsing faintly at the edges of his mind. When she arrived, he eagerly asked, "So, Master, why did you call me here? Are there strong monsters hidden in these mountains? Or maybe a secret training ground?"


His eyes lit up with anticipation, but her deadpan response crushed his hopes. "No, idiot."


"Then—" he began, only for her to interrupt him with a grin.


"You’re going to meditate here."


"What?! Why?"


"To master your Aetherial Sense and gain better control over your powers," she explained patiently, though her grin betrayed her amusement.


He groaned but relented. "Okay, Master." He sighed dramatically before plopping onto a large rock. With a huff, he crossed his legs, closed his eyes, and began meditating.


She watched in mild surprise at how obediently he followed her instructions. For a moment, she considered teasing him further but decided against disturbing his focus.


Minutes passed, and his expression tightened in discomfort as the throbbing in his head intensified. Noticing his struggle, she offered a piece of advice. "Hey. Try becoming one with the world. Imagine yourself merging with the flow of information entering your mind."


He nodded slightly, determined to push through. Though it didn’t alleviate the pain much, it helped. Slowly, he began to feel more connected to his surroundings, the chaotic rush of Aetherial Sense gradually easing into something less overwhelming.


His focus deepened, and the mental backlash started to fade. She watched from the side, a small smile forming on her lips. Perhaps, she thought, this boy might just have what it takes.



After two grueling hours, he slowly opened his eyes, revealing his striking, eerie blue gaze. They glimmered with an almost otherworldly elegance as he blinked away the lingering haze of concentration. Though his head still ached, the pain was lighter now, a manageable thrum instead of the sharp, relentless pounding from earlier.

Noticing he was done, she smirked and casually tossed a pebble toward his face. To her surprise, he tilted his head effortlessly to the side, dodging it without even looking. The fluid motion made him seem almost regal, his blue eyes glinting under the soft mountain sunlight.

"Woah, Master," he said, flashing her a mischievous grin. "Didn’t know you were so slow."

Her expression darkened in mock fury as she reached for her shoe and hurled it at him with all her might. The sole smacked him square in the face. She burst out laughing, doubling over in delight. "Who’s the slow one now? Hahaha!"

Rubbing his nose, now adorned with an unmistakable shoe imprint, he muttered, "So… training’s over now, right?"

"Over?" she repeated incredulously, her laughter dying down. "It’s only been two hours. You’ve got to meditate for at least eight hours a day!"

"Eight hours?!" he yelled, leaping to his feet. "Master, you’ve gone senile! Eight hours of this? Let me go home!"

Without missing a beat, she grabbed another shoe—where she got it, he had no idea—and flung it at him again. He managed to dodge this time, but just barely.

"Seriously!" he groaned. "Where even are you getting these shoes? Do you carry a bag of them around or something?"

She crossed her arms, feigning deep thought. "Ah, you see, young one, I am a master not just of martial arts but of the sacred Shoe Style. My arsenal is infinite!"

He rolled his eyes. "Sacred Shoe Style? You’re insane."

"No, what’s insane is that you think you’re done after two measly hours!"

"I can’t sit still for that long!" he protested. "I’ll turn to stone or something."

"Good," she retorted with a sly grin. "Maybe then you’ll finally learn some discipline."

"Discipline? More like torture," he muttered under his breath, earning himself another glare.

She pointed firmly at the rock where he had been meditating. "Now, get back to it before I bring out the heels."

His eyes widened in exaggerated fear. "You wouldn’t."

"Try me," she said, already reaching down.

Groaning dramatically, he slumped back onto the rock. "This is cruel and unusual punishment," he grumbled as he crossed his legs again.

"Call it what you want," she replied, her voice filled with amusement. "Now, meditate!"

And so, he closed his eyes once more, muttering under his breath about the tyranny of shoe-wielding masters as she watched with a triumphant smirk.