The next few months for Noctis was not only time for learning but growing. He was able to start filling out his frame due to the consistent meals he was provided. The old priest wasn’t rich by any means, but he had no problem feeding one teenager, even if his appetite was simply monstrous.

When there were people inside the church he was cleaning up, but when nobody was around, Father Julius would teach him how to read and write along with some basic arithmetic. He also learned a few things by observing contract ceremonies. Most would end rather quickly, the tattoo branding only lasting a few seconds without destroying any clothing or bringing a large amount of pain. Another difference he noticed was that the size of the tattoo would be similar to his palm. Large ones like his and the princess’s hadn’t appeared in front of him. His guess would be everyone in this area was likely only mid or lesser users.

During the night, he would doze off and appear in his soul. Tyrant would teach him various ways to control and use his power. The second time he went there he was able to condense the darkness into needles he could throw. On the fifth night he was able to cover his knuckles in a thin layer to make his punches deadly. On the second week he was able to control the limit of what his body could hold.

He went through the painful restructure process at least 3 times in these few months, but now he was able to use up to 5% of what the dragon to offer. After every restructure he was able to access new abilities and manipulate the darkness more. It also increased his physique as well as his appetite. Noctis now stood 5’8 with lean muscles everywhere and not an ounce of excess fat could be seen anywhere.

One morning, after the most recent restructure he got up just like any other. I wonder what the old priest made for breakfast this time. He hopped off his bed and went to the door, still groggy. He turned the door handle and pushed. Confused, he pushed a little harder and the doorframe gave way. The sound of wood splitting filled the room as the door "opened." What he was holding got a little heavier as he began to realize what just happened. He pushed door through the frame when all he needed to do was pull a little bit. The old priest rushed to the scene to find Noctis holding the door in his hand, completely detatched from the wall. Needless to say the task for that day was to fix his door.

His physical strength wasn’t the only thing that would be out of his control temporarily. He wasn’t able to control the new influx of magic power, leading to poor manipulation skills at first. After a couple hours of practice he would regain his proficiency. He was currently working on something other than projecting the energy. He was aiming to enhance a weapon with it. He held the knife his father gave him with both his hands.

No matter how he tried to visualize the darkness being attached to the edge of the knife it would always slide off then condense into a ball. What if it had something to act as an adhesive? He took the knife and slit his left thumb, letting the blood stick to the edge. This time when he tried to visualize the darkness bonding to the edge of the knife, the blood began to bubble then turn black. The familiar oak tree that was used as a test dummy appeared behind him. He turned around and made a sloppy cut across the bark. He completed the swing and thought he somehow missed, but upon further inspection he realized that the tree had in fact been cut deep.

“Nothing like the creativity of a human!” Tyrant gave out a small chuckle, “I would have never have thought to use blood as a bonding agent.” Noctis continued to practice throughout the night, trying to minimize the amount of blood he needed to use while maximizing the amount of energy he could attach to the blade.

Father Julius began to care for Noctis more and more. It brought him back to the days where he would take care of and teach his son. Ever since Noctis appeared, it was like the void in his heart had finally begun to fill in. He was genuinely smiling for the first time in years, unlike what he had to do on a daily basis in order to keep appearances. Whenever they were together it was like a caring dad teaching his craft to his curious son. Noctis was a fast learner, having picked up reading without any prior experience with the written language in a matter of weeks. He still struggled with some words here and there but the overall progress was something he could be proud of. He never complained about the work that the old priest had him do, and every lesson was ended by a genuine smile and a heartfelt thank you.

Despite all this, he was painfully aware of just how dangerous Noctis was. Even without knowing what his magic did, the raw strength that the boy had was frightening by any standard. The door incident wasn’t the only one like it. Just the other day he had seen him get frustrated by trying to read on his own, and smash a hole into a stone wall.

That wasn’t the only problem the old priest had come across while dealing with Noctis for these past few months. Every so often while being taught about nobility and their standards, there would be a murderous aura that escaped from his body, even if just barely. The old priest was sensitive to it after years of war, otherwise it was too subtle for most people to pick up on. There was something hiding inside that kind exterior. Something that he didn’t know if Noctis was even aware of. Something evil and full of hatred.

The time slipped by and it was finally time for Noctis to leave for the academy. It was early in the morning but the heat had already grown intense. Standing outside the entrance to the church, beads of sweat started to form as he talked with the old priest. “Remember, hand this letter to whoever is proctoring the entrance exam, and only use your physical strength. You musn’t use your magic.”

Noctis was able to feel that Father Julius truly cared about him. He was aware he couldn’t use his magic no matter how badly he wanted to show off. He was still limited to 5% of what Tyrant had to offer. ‘Without any actual combat experience, this is your limit’ the dragons words echoed through his mind. “Goodbye Father, thank you for everything you’ve done for me until now. I’ll find a way to repay your kindness one day.” Tears started to form in his eyes, the old priest had become somewhat of a family member to him, and saying goodbye was painful.

“Don’t worry child, it’s the job of the older generation to give to the new. If you truly want to repay me, then all you have to do is live on.” Hints of pain were escaping his voice. “Your life will be filled with many challenges and conflicts, but above all, please just come back alive.”