***
"What is the true essence of power?" Leo asked, his eyes sharp. Jack fell into a deep contemplation, his eyebrows furrowed.
Before he could answer, Leo cut in. "Hold that thought; whatever it is, you are most likely wrong. It's a comfortable lie you and society have conjured up to stay happy."
Jack blinked, flabbergasted and confused.
'Like, what's the point of asking me a question if you are not even going to hear out my answer?' Jack lampooned inwardly.
"Power," Leo exhaled, his eyes darkening, "does not lie in wealth, pleasure, or influence. It is not measured by the titles one holds, the gold stacked in vaults, or the number of people kneeling at your feet. These things create the illusion of power, fleeting and fragile, dependent on the will of others."
Leo stepped closer, the air thick with unspoken threat. "True power is something far more primal—the ability to harness and unleash pure, unadulterated violence — not in reckless chaos but in absolute control. It is the capacity to shape destruction with intent. To dictate the course of a battle with a single decision. To command fear and respect, not through words, but through the raw force of dominance.
Power is not given; it is taken. It is not begged for; it is seized. It is the hand that silences defiance, the force that bends the world to its will. True power is violence refined into an art—unleashed only when necessary, yet always waiting beneath the surface.
Because in the end, when all illusions of civility are stripped away, when laws crumble and order fades, only one truth remains."
Leo's eyes bore through Jack's. "Might is the only language the world truly understands."
Leo took in a shaky breath. Handing over his prized treasures was one thing—giving them to his slaver was another. He clenched his fists, despising the strange feeling stirring inside him.
Amiability.
He loathed this sentiment, this flicker of fondness for Jack—because truly, what was more pathetic than a slave loving his own captor?
Jack, meanwhile, sat in stunned silence, his mind scrambling to grasp the meaning behind Leo's words. Slowly, he frowned.
"So you are saying that the more strength you have, the more power you wield?" Jack asked.
Leo cursed under his breath, clenching his fist. This was why he hated explaining things; his fist and sword solved most problems for him.
Leo was conflicted; he would have liked to walk away, but he was bound by the contract. He slowly unclenched his fist and replied. "No, power is not equal to physical, mental, emotional, or any other form of strength. Strength just acts as a multiplier. It is a means to an end, but not the goal."
Jack's frown intensified. "I still don't get it." He admitted, begrudgingly, with a hint of defiance in his voice.
Leo chuckled, shaking his head. "If you understood it now, you'd be terrifying."
His smirk faded. "You'll only begin to grasp it when you experience battle-induced clarity for the first time."
Jack nodded, still trying to decipher the cryptic message within what Leo said. He wasn't someone who would go down with just a single hurdle, a hundred, or even a thousand.
Leo studied him for a moment, then exhaled. "Forget what I said earlier. Let's do something more practical."
Leo turned away and walked to the centre of the training ring, which was located in the basement. The floor and walls were covered with a thick layer of virellium.
Virellium—a metal that made the stars reachable—coated the floor like a layer of silent promise.
Seeing so much of this precious metal coating the floor, most people would have had their mouths agape with wonder and greed.
Virellium was one of the many alloys that made the interstellar age possible. It was a scientific wonder, being tough and light and retaining ample flexibility, but its price tag was one that would make one go broke just from thinking about it.
But to Jack, this was a normal scene, as this was where he had been training his quin core formation since his mother perished.
"Come at me, Jack, and don't hold back."
Jack blinked. "What?"
Leo didn't repeat himself.
He extended his arm, and reality shimmered. A swarm of crackling blue sparks burst from the air, swirling like a controlled storm. The light spiralled, condensed, and formed a sword.
But it wasn't grand. No ornate runes. No glowing core.
It was a worn, battered wooden sword.
Simple. Efficient.
And yet—Jack felt pressure, subtle but sharp, bearing down on him.
It wasn't like the cold, cruel malice Drayak had exuded.
This was different.
It wasn't a threat. It was a warning. A declaration of superiority.
***
Earlier. A hidden underground lab.
"Why don't we just kill him and sell it?" Drayak suggested. He paused, puzzled. "Wait—why haven't you killed him and taken it for yourself?"
Leo didn't flinch. "I made a promise to someone: protect him, no matter the cost."
Drayak scoffed, pulling a gun-like contraption from his spatial storage.
He aimed it at Jack.
"Everyone's got a price. What's yours, Leo?"
'Price? I'd pay almost anything to be free of this bondage… but… '
Leo sighed and looked at Jack, lost in thought. Then his eyes settled on Drayak.
"I can't. I'm his protector. It's my duty. Even if I want him dead, I won't kill him. I won't let anyone else try, either." His voice was deadpan. Cold. Final.
"Drop your weapon and your intent, Drayak. Push further, and you die here."
Shoulders shaking, Drayak burst into laughter.
"HAHAHAHA! Who would've thought The Orphan Maker would go soft?" His voice laced with unrestrained malice.
He raised the weapon, fingers tightening with purpose.
Sigh.
Leo extended his arm, and reality shimmered as he drew upon his spatial storage for his sword. A swarm of crackling blue sparks erupted from thin air, spiralling like a storm before condensing into the shape of a blade. Bit by bit, metal took form, solidifying into a sword that hummed with restrained power, as if forged from lightning itself.
The blade emerged – black, sleek, and deadly.
Drayak felt it.
The pressure, subtle but sharp, bore down on him like a predator looking down upon exhausted prey. It then dawned upon him: the Orphan Maker had not gone soft at all; he had just been restrained.
Drayak was an Enlightened, and every Enlightened worth his salt knew nothing was more dangerous than a restrained predator. Like how a wolf chews off its paw to escape a trap, a trapped and threatened beast would give its all to bring down an opponent, even at the cost of their life.
Jack stood perplexed, not really understanding all the fuss Drayak was making over a parasite, or, as he had come to learn today, a cursed relic. To Jack, he felt that the negative effects of the cursed relic Maw were nothing to scoff at. Accepting it was akin to tearing out a piece of yourself.
But at the same time, he could also understand. If Maw was entirely useless, he doubted his mother would have injected it into him as a parting gift. He surmised that either he was too weak to be able to wield it and experience its benefits, or the actual benefits of the cursed relic were something which would manifest at the right time.
"..."
Drayak gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he tried to swallow some saliva to quench his throat, which had turned dry. He slowly lowered his weapon while never taking his gaze off Leo.
"Mhmm..." He grunted in a bid to clear his throat. "I realised... I may have been a bit hasty in my judgement. Why don't we let bygones be bygones?" He said, forcing a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"A bit?!" Leo's voice was low, his blade unwavering. His eyes locked onto Drayak with surgical precision, and his quin sense unfurled silently like the antennae of a predator insect. Countless invisible tendrils brushed across the room, sensing every ripple in the air, primed to alert him to the slightest twitch, breath, or betrayal.
"..."
"..."
Drayak smiled. "I went overboard and didn't think about the results of my actions, I'll admit, but, heh... everyone experiences some lapse in judgement every once in a while, right?"
Leo just stared.
"Right...?"
"Trust, once broken, is not easily mended."
"As a show of my goodwill..." Drayak spewed through clenched teeth. "This session and the next will be on the house; I won't charge you even a Milbyt for it."
Leo was still silent.
"Fine! This session and all future sessions are free."
"I always knew you were a reasonable and kind man." Leo said, smiling. Honestly, the smile was one which sent shivers down the spine of its recipient, and Drayak was no exception. Leo finally lowered his sword while simultaneously dismissing it and storing it in his spatial storage.
The sword shimmered and broke down into a torrent of blue sparks. Drayak sighed, relief washing over him as the pressure lifted. Tangible. Suffocating. Now gone. One that made him want to submit and cower in fear.
He shot a quick glance at Aiden, the sole cause of this altercation, and found that the lad was unperturbed and nonchalant. His eye twitched.
Leo turned slightly and addressed Jack. "Now that is how one should wield power with absolute confidence. And always make sure to use it for your own gain."
"Umm..." Jack nodded. "I get it, but I don't understand where this is coming from."
"Don't worry; you'll understand it in due time."
Actually, Jack wasn't too surprised at the development, knowing Leo; this was something which he orchestrated, pulling in the 'helpless' and 'innocent' Drayak and extorting him.
Even if Drayak turned out to ignore his instincts and choose to attack him, Jack knew he wouldn't stand a chance of even scratching him. It wasn't arrogance; Leo was just that strong.
Today, Jack grasped another hard truth: either Leo was faster than the bullet Drayak could fire, or he was confident enough to kill, or at least disarm, him before the trigger was ever pulled.
Because in the world of the Enlightened, common sense was a suggestion, and logic was a courtesy no one owed you.
Their reality obeyed different laws, rules not carved from reason, but etched in dominance.
Strength was law.
Power, as Leo preferred to call it.