The door was still closed when Rakshasa looked back at Victor, who remained on the floor, leaning against the wall, his body slowly adjusting to the impact. His jaw was already returning to its place, shifting with a dry snap that didn’t seem to bother him as much as it should have. He instinctively ran a hand over his face, more to confirm the damage than out of real pain, and remained silent for a few seconds, reorganizing his breathing.

Rakshasa didn’t help.

She simply observed.

"So," she said, without changing her tone, "what exactly have you been doing so far?"

Victor exhaled through his nose, still somewhat dazed, but now more aware of his surroundings. He didn’t seem as irritated as before. Nor did he seem motivated. Just... neutral.

"Physical training," he replied simply. "Gravity. I’m at one hundred and twenty times right now."

Rakshasa didn’t react immediately. Her gaze remained fixed on him, as if waiting for him to continue. Since he didn’t continue, she tilted her head slightly.

"And?" she asked.

Victor shrugged, still seated.

"And that’s it."

The silence that followed wasn’t long, but it was enough to make it clear that that answer wasn’t sufficient.

Rakshasa took a step forward.

"How do you train?" she asked again, this time more specifically.

Victor rested his head slightly against the wall, thinking for a second before answering.

"Push-ups, sit-ups, running... that kind of thing," he said. "Basic movement. Forcing the body to adapt."

Rakshasa was silent for a moment.

Processing.

"Just that?" she asked.

Victor nodded, seeing no problem.

"Just that."

Another silence.

This time, heavier.

"Have you ever tried applying this to anything?" she asked. "Strikes. Impact. Combat."

Victor frowned slightly.

"Like what?"

Rakshasa kept her gaze on him, impatient.

"Have you ever tried to intentionally strike the air?" she continued. "Or hit something. A tree. A target. Anything that involves a real transfer of force."

Victor thought for a second.

"No."

The answer came out simply.

Defenseless.

No justification.

Just... no.

Rakshasa didn’t hide her reaction.

Her face contorted slightly, not in immediate anger, but in something closer to disbelief. As if she were trying to understand if this was really serious.

"Are you telling me," she began slowly, "that you spent months increasing your physical capacity... without ever testing it in a real impact?"

Victor shrugged again.

"I know you increased it," she replied. "I feel it."

Rakshasa took another step.

"Feeling isn’t measuring," she said. "Feeling isn’t understanding."

Victor didn’t answer this time.

She continued.

"Have you measured your strength?" she asked.

Victor looked at her.

"No."

"Have you tested your impact limit?"

"No."

"Have you tried to see how far your strength really goes?"

Victor was silent for a second.

"No."

Rakshasa took a deep breath.

Slowly.

Her face contorted again, but now it wasn’t just disbelief.

It was irritation.

"Of course," she murmured. "You have a completely irresponsible mother. Makes sense."

Victor raised an eyebrow.

"Huh?"

She ignored him.

She turned toward the exit.

"Get up," she said. "Let’s go outside."

Victor stared for a second, but eventually stood up. His body was still heavy, still worn, but functional. He didn’t argue this time. He just followed.

The two left the room in silence.

The air outside was more open, cooler. The training area extended beyond the main structure, with enough space for larger tests without direct interference. Some trees still stood on the far edge, away from the main combat area.

Rakshasa walked a few meters ahead and stopped.

She raised her hand and pointed.

A tree.

Tall, thick, rooted deep in the ground.

"There," she said.

Victor looked in that direction.

"Okay," he replied, still not fully understanding.

Rakshasa turned her face to him.

"Punch with everything you’ve got."

Victor frowned slightly.

"Everything... what exactly?" he asked.

She didn’t change her expression.

"Everything," she repeated. "Without holding back. Without adjusting. Without thinking about the consequences."

Victor stared for a second.

He didn’t seem convinced.

But he also didn’t seem willing to argue.

"Okay," he said.

He walked to the tree.

He stopped in front of it.

He remained silent for a few seconds.

Rakshasa said nothing.

She just observed.

Victor took a deep breath.

His posture changed.

It wasn’t exaggerated. It wasn’t dramatic. But it was different from what he had been doing until then. His body aligned better. His feet adjusted on the ground. His arm moved slightly behind him.

Still... it lacked refinement.

But there was strength.

He concentrated.

Not visible energy.

Not aura.

Just intention.

And then—

He punched.

The impact wasn’t just an impact.

It was an explosion.

The sound came first, an absurd roar that seemed to come not only from physical contact, but from the violent compression of the surrounding air. The point of impact simply ceased to exist as a defined point. The tree didn’t break in the usual way. It was obliterated at the center, the trunk disappearing in a fraction of a second.

KABOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMM!!!!!

The shockwave expanded immediately, pushing the air in all directions with brutal force. The ground around gave way, opening fissures that spread like living cracks. The wind didn’t blow—it was torn away.

The surrounding forest didn’t resist.

The nearby trees were ripped from the ground, not cut, not broken—uprooted. The roots came along, lifted by the absurd pressure that expanded like an invisible dome.

The air swirled.

The impact generated a chaotic flow that transformed into a rotational movement. A tornado began to form almost instantly, pulling leaves, earth, trunks, and everything loose around into the flow.

The sound was constant.

Heavy.

Violent.

Victor remained still at the point where he punched.

His arm still extended.

His face... unresponsive.

He blinked once.

Slowly.

The wind still swirled around, pulling the environment into a controlled chaos he clearly hadn’t expected.

Rakshasa didn’t move.

She observed everything.

From the moment of impact to the formation of the tornado.

Without exaggerated surprise.

But with total attention.

The wind ruffled her hair slightly, but didn’t affect her posture.

After a few seconds, she spoke.

"So... this is what you call ’feeling’ your strength."

Victor was still looking ahead, processing.

"I... didn’t know that’s what it was," he said honestly.

Rakshasa let out a small sigh.

"That’s why you test," she replied. "Not because you think so. Because you confirm it."

The tornado began to slowly lose strength, the air returning to its natural state as the energy dissipated. Fallen trees were scattered across the ground, some completely destroyed, others merely displaced. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

The space... had changed.

Victor lowered his arm slowly.

Still looking.

"I... really didn’t know," he repeated.

Rakshasa looked at him.

"Of course you didn’t know," she said. "You were training without any reference."

She took a step forward.

"You built strength," she continued. "But you didn’t build control. Or understanding."

Victor remained silent.

She stopped beside him.

"Now you know where to begin," she said.

She calmly crossed her arms, maintaining a relaxed posture, but with complete attention to his state. "Strength without reference becomes illusion," she said slowly. "You think you’re growing, but you don’t know in which direction. That’s not evolution. It’s raw accumulation."

Victor didn’t respond immediately. He was still looking ahead, but his breathing had stabilized somewhat. His body felt lighter now, not from complete recovery, but because his mind finally had something concrete to process. "So... I wasted this time?" he asked, without looking at her.

Rakshasa shook her head slightly. "No," she replied. "You built a foundation. And you built it too fast. The problem isn’t what you did. It’s what you didn’t do alongside it." She uncrossed her arms and pointed with her chin to the devastated terrain. "That’s the result of accumulated force without channeling. You didn’t direct it. You just released it."

Victor lowered his gaze to his own hand. His fingers were still slightly tense, as if his body hadn’t completely switched off the control of the strike. "So what do I do now?" he asked.

Rakshasa took a step forward, getting a little closer to the destroyed area. The ground was uneven, with open cracks and exposed root fragments. She walked over it as if it were nothing. "Now you learn not to waste," she said. "Because what you did was wasteful. Too much impact, too little efficiency."

Victor finally turned his face to her, clearly disliking the word. "Wasteful?" he repeated.

She nodded, without softening. "You destroyed everything around you, but you had no precision whatsoever. If I gave you a target the size of a head... you would miss or destroy the entire environment along with it. That’s not control. It’s unnecessary danger."

He remained silent for a moment, absorbing it. There was no immediate defense this time, which was already a change. Rakshasa noticed and continued. "You need to break this down into steps. First, learn to feel your strength with intention. Then, limit it. And only then... apply it."

Victor took a deep breath, looking ahead again. "Limiting seems against what I’m doing," he said.

Rakshasa turned her face to him. "No," she replied. "Limiting is what allows you to increase later without losing everything in the process. If you can’t hold on, you can’t focus either."

She took a few more steps and stopped at a point where part of a broken log remained, half-buried in the ground. With a simple movement, she kicked the piece upwards, making it spin in the air. Without changing her expression, she raised her hand and made a light cut with her fingers. The log broke into two clean pieces, without exaggerated displacement, without a shockwave, without a sound beyond the dry cut.

The pieces fell to the ground with weight.

Victor watched it. The difference was obvious.

"Same idea," said Rakshasa. "Completely different result."

Victor frowned slightly. "You used technique," ​​he said.

She shook her head. "No. I used control. Technique comes later."

He remained silent for a few seconds, mentally comparing what he had done with what he had just seen. The difference wasn’t just in the visual result. It was in the efficiency. In the absence of excess. That started to bother him in a different way.

Rakshasa looked directly at him again. "Now you’re going to do it again," she said.

Victor looked at her. "There?" he asked, pointing to the empty space where the tree had been.

She shook her head. "No. Here."

She pointed to the ground, where there was still a smaller piece of wood partially trapped between the uprooted roots. It was small. Irregular. Much harder to hit accurately.

Victor looked at the target.

Then at his own hand.

"Without destroying everything?" "Without destroying everything," she confirmed. "If you do the same as before, I’ll stop you."

He took a deep breath.

He repositioned himself.

This time, it wasn’t automatic. He took longer. He adjusted his feet more carefully, feeling the weight of his own body against the still unstable ground. His arm moved back, but stopped before completing the movement.

There was hesitation.

Rakshasa watched without interfering.

"I don’t know how to gauge this," he said finally.

"I do," she replied. "That’s why you’re going to miss."

Victor exhaled slowly.

And tried.

The blow came more controlled this time, but still too powerful. The impact hit the piece of wood, destroying it completely... along with the surrounding ground, opening a new, smaller, but still visible crack.

It wasn’t the same as before.

But it was still too much.

Victor looked at the result and grimaced slightly. Rakshasa didn’t comment immediately. She just analyzed it.

"Better," she said after a few seconds. "But still bad."

Victor let out a small sound of frustration through his nose. "Great," he murmured.

She ignored the tone. "You’re still thinking in terms of full force," she continued. "You need to start thinking in terms of necessary quantity."

He turned his face to her. "What’s the practical difference?"

Rakshasa answered without hesitation. "Full force destroys. Necessary quantity solves."

Victor remained silent.

Processing.

She continued. "If the goal is to break something, you use the minimum necessary to break it. No more. The rest is a waste of energy, control, and time."

He looked at his own fist again.

"I never thought of it that way," he admitted.

"I know," she said. "You can see that."

There was a short pause.

The surrounding wind had already completely subsided. The atmosphere was more stable now, despite the evident damage. Silence returned to the space, but this time it wasn’t empty. It was concentrated.

Rakshasa pointed again to another smaller piece, almost buried.

"Again," she said.

Victor nodded.

He positioned himself.

This time, he didn’t pull his arm with as much force. The movement was smaller. More restrained. There was still tension, still doubt, but there was also a real attempt to adjust.

He breathed.

Focused.

And punched.

The impact was much smaller.

The piece of wood broke.

Only that one.

The ground around trembled slightly, but didn’t open.

Victor stood still for a second.

Looking.

Comparing.

Rakshasa didn’t praise.

But she didn’t criticize either.

"Now you’ve started," she said.

Victor relaxed his arm a little, still looking at the result. "That... looks strange," he commented.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because it looks weak," he replied.

Rakshasa gave a small, sideways smile. "That’s because you’re used to exaggeration," she said. "That’s force applied correctly. You just don’t recognize it yet."

Victor remained silent.

His mind was clearly still adjusting to his own perception.

She continued. "Now imagine this in motion. In combat. In sequence. Without wasting energy."

He took a deep breath.

"That makes sense," he said.

Rakshasa nodded. "Of course it does."

She turned slightly, looking around the destroyed area. "And this here?" she asked, pointing to the surrounding chaos.

Victor followed her gaze.

"Mistake," he replied.

She looked back at him.

"Lesson learned," she corrected.

He didn’t answer this time.

But he nodded slightly.

Rakshasa observed this.

And then she took a step back, giving more space.

"You’re going to repeat this until it stops looking strange," she said. "After that, we start working for real."

Victor raised an eyebrow.

"Isn’t this real work?" she asked.

She let out a small laugh.

"This is you learning not to be useless with what you already have," she replied.