It took several days of patient, methodical testing before Ludger could fully integrate wind attunement into his Overdrive.

At first, the results were inconsistent. Wind mana was flighty, restless, it didn’t compress like fire or anchor like earth. It refused to stay still long enough to reinforce his body properly. Every time he tried to channel it through his Overdrive, the energy slipped through his control like air through open fingers. Still, he persisted.

On the third evening, after everyone else had left the training yard, Ludger stood alone beneath the twilight sky, the faint hum of mana swirling around him. He stripped the problem down to its essence.

Wind doesn’t resist. It adapts.

So instead of forcing the Overdrive to contain it, he restructured the flow, allowing the mana to circulate faster, expanding and contracting in rhythm with his breathing. Where fire demanded ignition and earth demanded stability, wind demanded motion.

He closed his eyes, spreading his awareness through his limbs. The Overdrive’s familiar pattern, mana coursing in heated loops through muscle and bone, shifted. The current quickened. His mana pulse began to spiral instead of churn, like a cyclone moving through his veins.

The effect was immediate. When he stepped forward, his foot barely touched the ground before the next step followed. His movement became lighter, faster, every stride slicing through the air with little resistance.

He threw a test punch. The motion snapped forward so fast the air cracked, pressure bursting outward like a whip. He gritted his teeth, adjusting the output, focusing on balance.

Then came the real test.

A large stone block sat at the edge of the courtyard, an old target he’d erected recently. He inhaled deeply, Overdrive flaring to full power. Mana flooded his body, fire’s explosive surge, earth’s stabilizing weight, water’s fluid rhythm—and now, wind’s unbound motion.

He stepped in and punched.

The impact came with a deep, resonant thud, the kind that reverberated in the bones. The front of the stone block shattered, rock fragments scattering like shrapnel.

But that wasn’t all. A split second after contact, something else happened—a secondary effect he hadn’t anticipated. The air around the strike point warped, then lashed outward.

A burst of compressed wind exploded from his fist, forming razor-thin arcs of pressure that sliced across the ground. The stone fragments in a three-meter radius bore shallow, clean cuts, as though slashed by invisible blades.

Ludger blinked, stepping back. The Overdrive still thrummed inside him, faster than before, each beat resonating with the world around him. He flexed his hand. The air around it shimmered faintly with residual energy.

“So that’s how it behaves,” he murmured. “Kinetic release through displacement…”

He crouched, examining the cuts on the ground. The edges were precise, not brute tearing, but refined slicing caused by violent air pressure. If he could control that secondary burst, it wouldn’t just be a side effect. It would be a weapon.

He activated the Overdrive again, feeling the wind mana swirl tighter around him this time, each movement of his limbs dragging thin wakes of displaced air behind them. Steps, punches, jumps, every motion felt amplified. Faster, sharper, cleaner.

When he exhaled, the air around him pulsed with power, carrying his breath a few meters outward like a small gust.

Ludger allowed himself a faint, satisfied smirk.

“Wind Overdrive… now we’re getting somewhere.”

He jotted the result down in his notebook later that night:

Wind Attunement = Acceleration + Air Displacement → Generates cutting aftershock on high-velocity impacts.

Potential applications: high-speed movement, directional bursts, ranged pressure slashes. Risk: unstable airflow at max output.

It wasn’t perfect yet, but for the first time, his Overdrive felt truly complete.

The next morning, the training yard was quiet except for the soft wind sweeping across the broken remains of the target Ludger had obliterated the night before.

Arslan was already there, standing over the shattered stone with his arms crossed, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. When Ludger approached, his father didn’t turn immediately, just nudged one of the cracked fragments with his boot.

“I assume,” Arslan said dryly, “this was you?”

Ludger gave a short nod. “Wind attunement integrated successfully.”

Arslan let out a low whistle. “I can tell.” He glanced at his son, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Every time I think this yard has seen enough destruction, you manage to find new ways to ruin the terrain.”

“Progress requires debris,” Ludger replied evenly.

“Spoken like a true mage.”

For a moment, they stood in companionable silence, the kind that only father and son could share, calm on the surface, heavy underneath.

Then Ludger tilted his head slightly. “What about you?”

Arslan smiled, but it was a tired one. “I’ve been working too.”

He stepped back, drawing in a slow breath. Mana began to rise around him, the air warming as orange light flared from his core. His Overdrive ignited—a roaring pulse of fire mana that wrapped around his arms and shoulders in sharp, flowing patterns. The heat distorted the air, and the ground beneath his feet hissed as faint embers scattered with each exhale.

Ludger watched closely. The shape and intensity were stronger than before—more refined, more contained. His father’s fire didn’t flare uncontrollably anymore; it pulsed with rhythm, precision, and purpose.

But despite that, Arslan’s expression didn’t carry satisfaction.

He released the Overdrive slowly, letting the flame fade until only heat shimmered in the air. “Training my affinity helped,” he said, “but not enough. You’re already pulling ahead, and I haven’t even reached my thirties yet.”

Ludger tilted his head. “That bothers you?”

Arslan chuckled softly. “You have no idea. When I was your age, I could barely hold my Overdrive for a minute before it burned me out. Now here you are, eleven years old and already making me feel like some relic of the past.”

Ludger’s answer was calm, deliberate. “We’re not competing against each other.”

Arslan looked up, eyebrow raised.

“We’re competing against ourselves,” Ludger said. “If I surpass you, that means you gave me a path worth following. And if you surpass me again, that means I still have something to learn.”

For a long moment, Arslan just stared at him, then sighed, half laughing, half defeated. “Great. Not only are you stronger, you’re wiser too. That’s just what I needed to hear this early in the morning.”

Ludger smirked faintly. “I can hold back the wisdom next time.”

“No, no,” Arslan said, waving a hand with mock resignation. “Keep it coming. Someone in this family should sound like an adult.”

The two of them shared a quiet moment of mutual understanding, equal parts respect, frustration, and pride. The flames were fading, but the warmth between them lingered.

As the heat from Arslan’s Overdrive faded into the cool morning air, Ludger reached into his coat and pulled out a small bundle of folded papers.

“When are you visiting Viola next?” he asked.

Arslan glanced over, curious. “Viola? Why?”

Ludger handed him the pages. “Give these to her.”

Arslan unfolded them and scanned the first sheet. His brows lifted as he read the meticulous handwriting—mana circulation charts, annotated diagrams of energy flow, notes on rhythm, pressure, and elemental layering.

“These are… your Overdrive notes?” he asked.

“The improved versions,” Ludger said with a nod. “Each adjusted for elemental attunement, earth, fire, water, and wind. She can practice them too. Her base affinity’s fire, but even partial understanding of the others could help. Adaptation increases survivability.”

Arslan flipped through the pages, eyes lingering on the precise sketches, each one showing a different mana pattern looping through the body, annotated with terms like flow cohesion and rotational acceleration.

He nodded slowly. “You’ve been busy.”

“Always,” Ludger said simply.

Arslan smiled faintly. “You could bring these to her yourself, you know. I’m sure she’d appreciate the visit.”

“I don’t have time,” Ludger replied. “The new recruits are arriving soon. Today’s their first sparring session. If I don’t supervise it, someone’s going to lose an arm before lunch.”

Arslan chuckled. “True enough. You’re running that guild like a miniature academy.”

“It’s the only way to keep them alive,” Ludger said flatly.

Arslan folded the notes carefully, slipping them into his coat. “Alright. I’ll make sure she gets them. She’ll be thrilled, though she’ll probably demand to test one or two of these on me.”

“That’s her problem,” Ludger said. “Not mine.”

Arslan shook his head, amused. “You’re all business, aren’t you?”

“Someone has to be.”

From across the training yard came the faint sound of young voices—excited, impatient, already forming lines and arguing about who was faster. Ludger turned his head slightly toward the noise.

“Looks like they’re here,” Arslan said.

Ludger nodded once. “Then it’s time to begin.”

As he walked past his father, Arslan called after him, voice low with pride. “You know, she’s going to be proud of you when she sees those notes.”

Ludger didn’t look back, but a faint smile flickered across his face. “She’d better be. They took me three sleepless nights.”

Then he stepped into the yard, the wind stirring faintly around him, ready to shape another generation.

The recruits approached like a small, chaotic storm, five kids, half energy and half noise.

“Did someone say Viola?” Renn asked first, eyes wide with excitement.

“Yeah! Are you going to see Lady Viola?” Marie chimed in.

“Is she coming here?” Bramm added. “Can we meet her?”

“Does she really fight with real fire swords?” Tali asked, practically bouncing in place.

“Is it true she rides a horse with armor made of steel?” Jorin piled on.

The questions came faster than Ludger could process, one voice tripping over the next until it became a single, breathless barrage of sound.

Ludger closed his eyes briefly. Why did I open my mouth…

For a fleeting moment, he considered dropping these five overexcited problems directly into Viola’s lap and walking away. She wanted to be involved with the guild anyway, let her see what “training the next generation” really meant.

But that would be cruel. Barely.

“Assume your positions,” he said calmly.

The kids froze mid-question.

“Stretch,” Ludger continued, tone even. “Now.”

They scrambled into formation, moving with surprising precision, straight lines, even spacing, synchronized breathing. Within seconds, the chatter vanished, replaced by the sound of rhythmic stretching and boots brushing against the dirt.

Arslan, watching from a few meters away, nodded approvingly. “They’ve got the basics of discipline already.”

Ludger crossed his arms. “Took them long enough.”

As the recruits moved through their warm-up drills, Ludger’s gaze sharpened, noting their weapon choices. Each of them carried short weapons, either a wooden sword or a short spear. But what caught his attention was the common addition: every single one of them had chosen a shield.

Even Tali, whose small frame made the thing look oversized, held hers with a stubborn grip. Ludger blinked once, then let out a slow breath.

“Let me guess,” he said quietly. “They all want to protect Viola.”

Arslan smirked. “Looks that way.”

Ludger didn’t argue. In fact, it made sense. Their obsession with her wasn’t just admiration, it had turned into purpose.

And purpose made training easier.

He nodded faintly, watching as they switched to light sparring drills, shields raised, stances firm. “Good,” he murmured. “At least they’re serious about something.”

Arslan grinned. “Guess they found their reason to fight.”

“Yeah,” Ludger said. “Now I just have to make sure they survive it.”

He clapped once, sharp enough to make them all stop.

“Stance drill!” he called out. “Raise your shield and prepare to run while keeping your guard up!”

Five shields rose in unison, forming a crooked but determined line. Dust kicked up, sunlight glinting off the wood, and for a brief moment, Ludger almost smiled.

Not bad, he thought. Not bad at all.

Thank you for reading!

Don’t forget to follow, favorite, and rate. If you want to read 200 chapters ahead, you can check my patreon: /Comedian0

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep