Without obtaining the desired answer, Aziz decided to postpone the conversation about the immortals.
Over time, he learned that the region where the mansion he lived in stood was considered neutral territory — a silent refuge amid the invisible tensions between dimensions.
Once, he asked his mother why they didn't live in the immortal dimension. The answer, however, never came.
Once again, he left the matter for later. What truly mattered to him at that moment was learning how to become stronger. In a world where multiple races coexist — even if separated by dimensional barriers — conflict seems inevitable.
Even on Earth, where he had lived before, it had always been like that. How many wars were born from a ruler's greed?
A world, in essence, cursed.
That was when his mother explained to him that every living being in that universe was capable of manipulating a special form of energy: mana.
The revelation sparked a flame of fascination in Aziz. If on Earth, terms like "mana" existed only in novels and anime, who could say the supernatural was impossible?
Knowing he could also cultivate that power filled his heart with anticipation — and excitement.
When, however, he asked his mother to teach him how to wield mana, she refused, asking him to wait one more year. She didn't explain why, although it was common knowledge that, upon turning five, the inhabitants of that world could access mana.
Aziz, curious and frustrated, suspected that maybe his mother just wanted to keep pampering him a little longer. Even so, he didn't insist.
Today, however, the waiting time had come to an end. Today was the day Aziz turned six. And this day would be marked as the first step toward the top of the world.
\===
In the center of the training room stood the figure of a little boy with hair as white as snow and silver eyes with shades of blue, wearing a training outfit as black as night.
Beside him, two mature women of stunning beauty and imposing presence watched him attentively.
They were Astrid, Isis, and the birthday boy himself, Aziz.
"Very well, my baby. Today your training begins, although, in my opinion, you didn't need to go through this," said Astrid, in a slightly grumpy tone.
"Haa… Mom, we already talked about this. Please, train me. I don't want to spend my whole life being protected by you two," said Aziz, determined, yet with a pleading look in his eyes as he faced his mother.
"Alright, alright, we've already discussed this several times, my lady, and it's also good that the young master can protect himself. He won't be a child forever," Isis said, siding with her young master.
Hearing this, Aziz felt deep relief. He was already tired of repeating this argument with his mother.
Seeing that her friend didn't agree with her, Astrid grew even more annoyed with the situation.
"Humph! Since you really want to start your training, know that you won't have time to suckle from my breasts anymore," she said, lifting her full breasts, still untouched that morning.
Realizing the desperate situation he was in, Aziz made his mind work overtime to find something that would make his mother reconsider — after all, he couldn't bear to go without his favorite nectar.
"Mom! Train me, and I'll keep sleeping in your room for as long as you want," Aziz said quickly, trying to convince her, even though he had been wanting a room of his own, since he thought he was too big to be sharing a bed with his mother.
Astrid pretended to ponder for a few moments, feeding the boy's anxiety with silence.
"Deal. Your training starts today," she finally replied, drawing a victorious smile from Aziz.
The ease with which she agreed made him suspicious. Even so, he didn't think too much about it. After all, anything good... is good.
While savoring the feeling of victory, he didn't notice the faint mischievous smile on his mother's face. No one could say for sure who came out victorious from that clash.
"First of all, I want you to run ten laps around this training room," said Astrid, now in a tone more serious than ever before.
Aziz was surprised by the sudden change in attitude, but he wasn't shaken.
He observed the room. It looked small. Nothing he couldn't handle. But as he tried to take the first step, his eyes widened: the space began to expand until it reached the size of a football field.
"Mom... was that magic? What kind of magic is that?" he asked, amazed.
Astrid raised her chin with pride.
"Spatial magic, my baby. With effort and dedication, you'll be able to master it too."
When Aziz heard that he could also learn spatial magic, he became even more motivated to give it his all.
"Alright, enough stalling, I'll be in charge of your physical training, young master," Isis intervened.
From the shadows, she retrieved four black objects resembling shackles and handed them to Aziz.
"Here, put two on your wrists, and the other two on your shins," Isis ordered after handing over the shackles.
Aziz examined the heavy objects. They were clearly too big for his child-sized limbs.
"Don't worry. They'll adjust to your body once you put them on," Isis explained, anticipating the boy's hesitation.
Obeying, Aziz felt the shackles mold perfectly to his arms and legs.
"Now, get ready. I'm going to activate the gravity weight of the shackles," said Isis.
Preparing himself for what was to come, he took a deep breath and nodded.
With a small gesture, Isis made the shackles heavy. Suddenly, Aziz's limbs felt like they were made of lead.
"This will do for now. Now run. Ten laps, young master," she ordered.
And that's what he did. The first lap didn't seem too hard, after all, remembering his physique from when he lived on Earth — athletic and always fit — his confidence couldn't help but be high to complete the task.
However, as intelligent as he was, he didn't take into account that both his child's body and the gravity shackles would present a greater challenge than he could handle.
By the end of the third lap, he was already gasping. His legs trembled.
Seeing that Aziz was no longer able to cope with the challenge, Astrid and Isis prepared to intervene.
But then something made them hesitate: the resolute look in Aziz's eyes. That expression of pure determination moved them. They decided not to say a word.
At first, the ten laps were just a provocation. But seeing him continue, even on the brink of exhaustion, both fell silent, filled with growing respect.
"Haa… My legs… but I'm not stopping now," Aziz muttered, sweaty-faced and with blurred vision.
Fourth. Fifth. Sixth. Seventh. Eighth lap.
"Just two more… I can do it…," he whispered, trembling, nearly unconscious.
With the ninth lap conquered, his body was about to give out. Aziz thought about giving up, already feeling satisfied with his performance.
But when he turned his head, he saw Astrid's and Isis's eyes fixed on him, full of admiration. And then, something awakened within him.
The pure and fierce desire not to disappoint the only two people he had loved — in his two different lives.
Strength was reborn.
Finally, when he completed the last lap, returning to where he had started, he couldn't take it anymore and stumbled from exhaustion.
But before he could fall, he felt himself wrapped in gentle arms.
Opening his eyes with difficulty, he met his mother's worried — and proud — gaze.
"I did it, Mom…," Aziz murmured, overcome by fatigue.
"Yes, my love. You did it," Astrid whispered, stroking his hair.
And, cradled by the tenderness of that voice, Aziz finally fell asleep — in his mother's arms.
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