Teaching, Learning, Growth (3)
"Phew..."
I let out a long, heavy sigh and drew in a breath, letting the dawn air fill my lungs. Normally, it would have felt wonderfully crisp, but this morning the chill bit unusually deep.
My head was a tangled mess.
What was I even supposed to call the knot coiled in my mind? Fear? Burden? Suspicion?
I couldn't say for sure, but one thing was certain: the root cause of it all was Leon.
Why the hell is he helping me this much?
When he offered to teach me swordsmanship, I could write it off as simple goodwill. When he agreed to take me as a disciple and even build a bespoke sword style tailored for Astrea, I felt overwhelming gratitude. So there are Demon Lords like this, I had thought. People like this really do exist.
Yet after talking with him last night, that perspective inevitably shifted.
He was doing far too much for it to be mere charity. We were just friends online—a threadbare connection forged through a forum that, under normal circumstances, wouldn't have crossed paths even after eons—yet Leon was being absurdly generous. Worse still, ever since I started teaching Astrea, his reactions had grown downright bizarre.
It might sound like an odd comparison, but it was like watching a grandmother whose grandchild had just come to visit in the countryside. He was practically itching to shower us with whatever he could find. The way he kept pestering me for progress updates every step of the way carried a hint of madness.
No, not madness. Obsession was a better word.
At any rate, ever since last night, I hadn't been able to shake this nagging unease. Even now, as the morning sun broke over the horizon, that discomfort clung stubbornly to my chest.
"Master, are you awake?"
Just as I was letting out another sigh to vent the lingering dread, that familiar title drifted from behind me.
I turned naturally and found a girl standing there.
Bathed in the morning sun, her snow-white hair shone brilliantly against eyes as azure as the open sea. Standing amidst the post-apocalyptic ruin of Earth, her appearance was striking, almost profoundly out of place. She wore only a simple cardigan, but that alone was more than enough to highlight her beauty. Anyone laying eyes on her would have reflexively gasped that she was pretty, or beautiful.
To me, however, she was a victim, a young girl, a Hero, a disciple—and Astrea. Nothing more, nothing less.
Though, considering she was already twenty, calling her a "girl" might have been stretching the definition just a bit.
"Did you sleep well?"
It had become a routine morning greeting.
Just a month ago, that simple question carried a multitude of unspoken anxieties: Had she suffered an esper seizure in her sleep? Had conflicting powers clashed and caused internal injuries? Was a mental ability giving her nightmares or splitting headaches? Every morning used to be a bundled checklist of quiet dread.
Now, things were different. Whether it was the control methods I taught her or the absurd efficacy of Leon's swordsmanship, her seizures had completely stopped. I no longer had to fret each morning or pace the halls checking on her through the night—a relief for which I was endlessly thankful.
"I slept soundly, Master."
"Good to hear."
"I feel completely recovered thanks to a good night's rest. I think I'll do well in today's training."
"Then let's push the pace a bit more today."
Proper sleep paid dividends here as well. Now that sleep served its true purpose as a period of rest and recovery, the efficiency of our lessons climbed alongside it. Yet there remained a curious, somewhat perplexing detail.
If her esper abilities functioned properly, she wouldn't need sleep at all.
Her powers were still a complete riddle. We knew she possessed innate cellular regeneration alongside a mental-type ability we dubbed Indomitable, not to mention monster traits like disease immunity and total recall. By all rights, sleep should have been obsolete for her. Those abilities combined were more than enough to substitute for physical rest. In other words, the fact that Astrea still required sleep meant those powers remained suppressed or blocked by some unknown cause.
Not like I have a degree in esper studies, though. What do I know?
With a sigh, I shelved the thought, making a mental note to crack open some textbooks on esper mechanics later.
Once I gathered my thoughts, I adjusted my posture and tone, shifting straight into instructor mode.
"First on today's agenda is emission-type esper training. As you know, I'm an esper myself, and I've spent the better part of the last twenty years relying primarily on emission abilities. I have plenty to pass on to you."
"Yes, Master."
Emission-type esper abilities.
It was one of the classifications that surged into prominence a decade after the Gates first appeared on Earth. Under the framework established by Korea and the United States, abilities were largely divided into four major categories: Emission, Reinforcement, Mental, and Special. Among them, Emission boasted the lowest percentage of users.
Hurl lightning or fire from your hands, shoot beams from your eyes... maybe because they resembled cartoonish superpowers and high magic, they were exceptionally rare. Back in the old days, my comrades and I used to joke that the universe gave Emission a terrible drop rate just for the sake of game balance.
Ironically, once the monsters spilling out of the Gates reached a certain tier, almost all of them came equipped with emission abilities as standard gear. A truly rotten reality.
"First, let's review what abilities you can currently access."
"...For now, there's lightning, and something like a ray of light—"
I listened patiently to her vague descriptions until I pieced together what she actually had available.
First was the electrokinetic branch. Beyond stimulating her own muscles or imbuing weapons with electric current, higher mastery would allow her to use clouds or buildings as conduits to summon massive lightning strikes. Since I possessed this affinity as well, instructing her wouldn't pose any problem.
Second was the force field branch. What she referred to as a 'light beam' was actually closer to an energy shield. Then again, if you fired it off without shaping it into a barrier, it was essentially a particle beam, so broadly speaking, she wasn't entirely wrong.
The third was a bit trickier. It was hard to pinpoint whether it belonged under Emission or Special, but it hardly mattered for now. Astrea wasn't at a level where she could wield it yet. Once mastered down the line, it would prove monstrously useful in swordsmanship, close-quarters combat, sub-spatial, and phase-space engagements, but she wasn't ready.
"All right. That settles it."
I spent quite some time breaking down the concepts, applications, and control techniques for each ability. As soon as the lecture wrapped up, we set out to begin practical training.
A brisk walk through the desolate city brought us to an American football stadium tucked into a corner of the ruins. The reason for choosing this venue was simple: it sat a comfortable distance from the hideout, and it was a spacious clearing where blowing things to pieces wouldn't matter in the slightest.
"The single most crucial element in emission abilities is spatial awareness."
Meeting the gaze of Astrea, who sat obediently listening to my explanation, I gestured broadly across the open field.
"The ceiling of an emission ability is bound to what you can perceive. No matter how absurd your raw output is, if you can only comprehend yourself and the immediate air around you, your range will top out at a pathetic few meters."
At the same time, I drew an electrical charge from my hand.
The output matched what I unleashed during monster exterminations. It was a bolt capable of incinerating and liquefying dozens, if not hundreds, of beasts whose bones and hides were tougher than armored vehicles—an output on par with a natural disaster.
KRA-BOOOM!
With a deafening roar, the entire football stadium was bleached in blinding white light.
After a brief pause, the glare receded to reveal an unexpected sight. Despite the cataclysmic thunderclap, the stadium itself was perfectly intact. Only the ground within a one-meter radius around my feet had been cratered and charred pitch-black.
"..."
"What I just demonstrated was an emission unleashed with my spatial awareness dialed down to the absolute minimum," I explained. "Without spatial perception, an ability completely wastes its inherent advantages. That's why training this sense matters above all else."
I checked on Astrea, who remained composed and attentive, before raising a single finger.
A tiny spark crackled at my fingertip. In an instant, the miniature current shot through the open air, streaking straight across the stadium.
Flash!
Reaching the far edge of the arena, the current slipped cleanly into the wiring of a massive stadium spotlight, flaring it to brilliant life.
"Even with a tiny charge like that, sharp spatial awareness allows for microscopic control—enough to manipulate electrical equipment like that spotlight over there."
Offering supplemental pointers, I proceeded to demonstrate an array of advanced techniques: guided currents tracking targets like homing missiles, lightning bursting directly from the earth, and deploying emitted charges like sonar to pinpoint an enemy's exact coordinates. It was a comprehensive clinic of theory and practice.
Clap, clap, clap.
"...That's amazing, Master."
Her earnest applause left me slightly sheepish, but there was no time to dwell on it.
Astrea immediately began channeling her abilities, striving to apply the fundamentals I had demonstrated. Watching her closely, I busied myself offering tips, adjusting her posture, and reigning in stray arcs of power whenever they veered off course.
Hours slipped by, and our emission training was nearing its conclusion when she spoke up.
"Master, may I ask you something?"
Looking slightly winded from the sustained exertion, Astrea posed an unexpected question.
"Could I try using the swords from our swordsmanship practice right now?"
I blinked, caught off guard. Why the wooden practice swords all of a sudden?
"I don't mind letting you use them, but why?"
"Whenever I release my abilities, it feels like something is missing. I think... if I blend it with swordsmanship, it might click."
"Hmm..."
Did emission powers have anything to do with swordsmanship? I sifted through my memories, but none of the emission espers I used to know practiced martial arts or swordplay. If someone asked whether my own emission control had improved after studying under Leon, the honest answer would be no.
Her request seemed slightly eccentric, but it was hardly an imposition. I quickly conjured the pair of practice swords she used for training.
"...Whew."
Gripping the twin practice blades, Astrea let out a quiet breath as if welcoming the familiar weight and texture, then raised one arm along with the blade. She stood still and closed her eyes, extending her arm until it formed a straight, level line parallel to the earth.
A few moments passed. As an eerie silence crept across the stadium, a sliver of light sparked from the tip of her sword.
Compared to the devastating lightning I used to slaughter monsters, it was minuscule—a thin, delicate thread of electricity lacking any thunderous roar or blinding glare. Yet those branching currents traced the bleachers and walls, weaving across the stadium like an intricate vascular network. And then, a subtle pulse traveled through those veins.
In that very instant—
FLAAASH!
With a truly blinding burst of brilliance, the entire stadium was flooded in the glow of stadium spotlights.
"..."
I was struck utterly speechless.
She hadn't just turned on a single spotlight like I did. She had activated dozens of massive floodlights all at once.
She lit all of them in a single breath?
It defied all reason. Igniting every spotlight across this entire stadium didn't merely require sensing the overall space; she had to perceive the internal wiring of each fixture simultaneously and regulate the precise voltage and vector of every current. Even for me, pulling off a stunt like that without using an esper-based sensory pulse was impossible. And she had accomplished it on her very first try, without any sensory ability whatsoever.
Calling it heaven-sent talent didn't even begin to cover it. A completely absurd, game-breaking phenomenon had just unfolded right before my eyes.
...Game balance really is totally fucked.