Old Gayle let out a cold chuckle.
"It's just normal gum bleeding. It's nothing to worry about."
"Don't joke around! What kind of normal person eats nails?!" Francis shouted, horrified.
"At this rate, you're going to torture Fort to death, you crazy old man!"
Hearing this, Old Gayle imdiately locked his sharp gaze onto Francis.
"Heh. Thanks for reminding ," he said with a sinister smile.
"Since he's busy eating nails, you shouldn't be standing around idle either!"
"What... What are you planning?!"
Seeing Old Gayle approaching him step by step, Francis let out a high-pitched scream and imdiately ducked behind Alan.
Old Gayle sighed helplessly.
"Alan," he said, voice calm but firm, "grab him and beat him. Beat him senseless. Beat him to death if you have to—I'll take full responsibility."
"Okay!"
Alan responded without hesitation.
He grabbed Francis by the collar with one hand and raised his fist high, ready to deliver a heavy blow to Francis's face.
"Wait, wait, wait!"
Francis hurriedly cried out, frantically waving his hands to stop him.
Then he glared at Old Gayle and shouted,
"So this was all just a setup to ss with us, wasn't it?!"
"ss with you?"
Old Gayle snorted.
"If I wanted to ss with you, I wouldn't have bothered bringing you all the way out here to the training ground."
"Francis, let ask you—when those bounty hunters really co knocking, do you think they'll show you any rcy?"
Francis shook his head dejectedly.
"Exactly."
Old Gayle's voice turned even colder.
"By that ti, forget nails—they'll force you to swallow far more disgusting and deadly things. Compared to what I'm making you do now, what's happening here is practically a rcy!"
The fire in Francis's eyes quickly died out.
His posture sagged and he muttered, almost pleading,
"But... but can't I do sothing else instead of eating nails? Fort has a steel bloodline, he can survive that. I don't! If I swallow those, I'll really die!"
Old Gayle's lips curled into a smile.
"Of course. For a little genius like you, I naturally have a different training thod prepared."
Francis's face lit up with hope.
"Really? What is it?!"
In response, Old Gayle slowly pulled out a length of rope from within his robes and tightly bound Francis's legs together.
The mont the rope tightened, Francis imdiately felt a massive weight crush down on him.
The rope was enchanted with an incredibly powerful gravity spell—just standing upright beca a monuntal effort.
Once he had thoroughly secured the binding, Old Gayle pointed at the wall surrounding the academy grounds and said coldly,
"Now, hop around the entire academy a hundred tis."
"And don't even think about trying to cheat. This rope is imbued with my magic—it won't release until you complete the task. Fail to finish, and you'll spend the rest of your life dragging this rope around with you."
"Nooooo!"
Francis wailed in despair.
But faced with Old Gayle's iron will—and his undeniable authority as Headmaster—he had no choice but to obey.
...
After Francis had hop-waddled his way miserably out of the training ground,
Old Gayle turned his sharp gaze to Alan.
Unlike Francis, Alan's expression remained calm and composed.
No matter how grueling the training ahead might be, he showed no trace of fear.
"Alan... you—"
Old Gayle had barely begun speaking when Alan interrupted him.
"Got it. I'll go!"
"...Hold on, at least listen first."
Old Gayle chuckled, patting Alan on the shoulder.
He sighed and said,
"Back at Lioncrest Academy... those crystal flowers that appeared around you—
were they grown using a Stone of Sage?"
Alan paused for a mont, but quickly realized there was no point in hiding it from Old Gayle.
He smiled and admitted frankly,
"Headmaster, you really do have a sharp eye. Yes, those crystal flowers were indeed cultivated using a Stone of Sage."
"As I thought."
Old Gayle's eyes showed a touch of emotion, but he didn't press any further.
He understood very well—whatever thods Alan had used to acquire a Stone of Sage, that was his own secret.
Everyone had secrets. Himself included.
"Co with ."
After a mont of reflection, Old Gayle led Alan deeper into the training grounds.
At the very back of the field stood several stone golems—
but unlike ordinary stone golems, these were massive.
The smallest one stood over five ters tall, towering like a living stone giant.
Old Gayle placed a hand on one of the stone giants, infusing it with mana.
A low rumble echoed across the training ground.
Monts later, the stone giants slowly began to awaken.
Intricate magical arrays glead to life around their joints.
"Tell ," Old Gayle said suddenly, "do you think you can take these things on?"
Alan lifted his head and calmly assessed the titanic enemies before him.
After a brief pause, he replied,
"I should be able to."
"Not should—you must."
Old Gayle's voice was like steel.
Without warning, he moved.
He didn't cast any flashy spells or weave elaborate magic circles.
He simply relied on the sheer physical strength of his body.
In a blur of motion, he charged to the side of one stone giant's massive head.
In that instant, the mana within his body surged violently—
it flooded into his arm, inflating the veins until they glowed faintly blue beneath his skin.
Then—
BANG!
A thunderous crack split the air.
Old Gayle's fist slamd into the stone giant's head,
shattering it instantly into countless fragnts that exploded in every direction.
Below, Alan watched the scene unfold with wide eyes.
A surge of excitent stirred in his chest.
In the current world, most mages focused on externalizing their mana—
transforming it into ice, fire, earth, wind, or other elental attacks.
On that foundation, they had developed techniques like elental combinations, mana shaping, and other advanced applications.
But Old Gayle was different.
He didn't externalize his mana.
Instead, he internalized it.
He circulated it through his own veins—
allowing the mana to replace his blood, dramatically enhancing his body's capabilities.
Few mages practiced this thod, because it was both rare and incredibly dangerous.
Yet the explosive force it granted...
was astonishing.
No less powerful than a mage at the tier-diamond level.
Old Gayle brushed the dust off his clothes casually, then walked back over to Alan.
"Elent magic is, without a doubt, an essential part of any mage's arsenal," he said, voice calm but serious.
"But sotis, pure mana alone can create unexpected results."
"Do you know what's the most important thing when fighting soone?"
Alan thought for a mont.
"Strong conviction?" he offered.
Old Gayle chuckled.
"That's part of it—but not the whole answer."
He stared intently at Alan and said,
"The real key... is mana overpressure."
Alan looked puzzled.
"Mana overpressure? What's that?"
"Mana overpressure," Old Gayle explained, "ans using mana to exert overwhelming pressure on your opponent."
"This pressure can be physical, it can be psychological, and it doesn't have to take any specific form."
"You can apply it through your elent magic, or—"
"—you can do what I just did: compress your mana to the extre inside your own body and then unleash it all at once."
"The key is that your attacks must carry a sense of oppressive force."
"Even if the raw damage doesn't increase significantly,
the enemy's defenses will be greatly weakened under the psychological strain."
"Mages don't have many ways to handle physical attacks, sure—
but against pure mana suppression, most mages' ntal defenses collapse completely."
"And once their ntal defenses crumble..."
"They can no longer effectively defend themselves at all."
"In that way, you'll cause even greater damage—indirectly but effectively."
"Understand?"
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