Re: Tales of the Rune-Tech Sage

Chapter 93: Battle Instincts

CH93 Battle Instincts

***

Alex woke up the next morning to the ceiling of a strange, yet familiar bedroom.

It was the bedroom of the Ashen Castle’s back mountain lodge—the one the original ’Alex Fury’ had called home for most of his life. The space was deeply imprinted into his muscle memory.

He instinctively knew where everything was: the location of the cupboard and shelves, the window’s exact angle of sunlight at dawn, even the squeaky floorboard just past the doorframe. He could move around with his eyes closed.

And yet... it felt foreign.

To the current Alex Fury—the True_Sage—this wasn’t home. His familiar room was the one in the dorms back at the Enclave. That was the place he had grown into himself.

Nonetheless, thanks to the lingering familiarity carved into his body’s memories, Alex got a proper, restful night’s sleep.

Carefully, he eased off the bed, making sure not to disturb Fen, who lay curled beside him. Fen intended to watch over him after the whole assassination debacle but clearly the cub couldn’t resist the call of nine clouds.

Alex walked over to the full-body mirror near the bedside.

Five years ago, on the day he first reincarnated into this world, this very mirror had shown him the image of a scrawny child—the frail vessel he had awoken into. But today, it reflected someone new.

His current body was lean, muscular, and athletic. Not bulky, but honed—built for real battle and prolonged engagement.

Five years of relentless training had forged this frame, complemented by the latent influence of his Furor Bloodline. That bloodline, with its deep-rooted ties to the Infernal race—a species bred for war—had sculpted him into a natural warrior, regardless of the fact he was primarily a mage.

Alex smiled, satisfied.

Then he left the room.

The corridors were quiet.

Unlike five years ago, there were no maids scurrying about. That was by design. After his return, Alex had dismissed all of them. He’d discovered that every single one of them had been compromised in some way.

The head maid—his former nanny, the voluptuous woman who had bathe him like a ragdoll and the only trustworthy one amongst the maid based on Alex’s memories—had mysteriously disappeared.

He wasn’t bothered though.

Housekeeping could easily be handled with a few miscellaneous utility spells like Clean. At least until he recruited a fresh staff he could actually trust.

He followed the hallway until he arrived at the training room.

As expected of a building built for a warrior bloodline, it had one. Maybe not of the highest grade, but it served its purpose.

The training room was well-furnished, by this world’s standards. Basic weights lined the walls, weapon racks stood neatly arranged, and stacks of hay bales sat beside carved wooden stands that could be assembled into training dummies.

It wasn’t quite the high-end experience of the enchanted armoured mannequins at the Enclave, but for some basic body work, it would suffice.

Alex wasn’t here to train. He simply wanted to stretch his limbs—get a feel for his body post-awakening.

He took a boxing stance, adjusting his footing with care, and began throwing fists, mimicking the movements he remembered from his previous life.

At first, he focused solely on the movements. Then, slowly, he began to sense the influence of his newly awakened True Name—Velkar.

With each punch—jab, hook, uppercut, straight—he felt subtle nudges within his body. Instinctive cues, like an invisible coach, adjusting his form for optimal impact.

The feeling was hard to put into words.

Every time he moved, his body knew exactly how to position itself to deliver maximum power and precision. And when he transitioned into combos, his instincts seemed to choose the next strike automatically, based on his current footing and momentum.

He didn’t need to drill specific combos anymore. That layer of spontaneity added a dangerous level of unpredictability to his attacks.

His body had already mastered the most fundamental principles of combat—fluid movement, structural efficiency, and dynamic momentum. It responded naturally and intuitively, almost as if he were dancing to a rhythm only his blood could hear.

For the first time, Alex truly understood what it meant to have a warrior’s body.

And it was only the beginning.

’So, this is battle instinct,’ Alex thought, gazing at his hands. ’No wonder those so-called combat geniuses can never explain how they learn or execute the moves they do.’

He couldn’t help but sigh at the realisation—he had become one of them.

A combat genius.

It almost felt unfair.

Alex moved on to practising other striking styles from his limited MMA repertoire—boxing, kickboxing, Muay Thai. He didn’t know much beyond the basics, but even that was enough. The battle instincts inherited from his Velkar True Name filled in the gaps, refining his form and improving his execution with every movement.

He then transitioned to grappling drills.

It wasn’t ideal—there was no one to spar with—so he improvised. Using hay, cloth, and other materials on hand, he crafted a crude grappling dummy. Together with detailed visualisation, he practised what he could recall.

Still, the difference was night and day.

Every strike, every hold, every transition was sharper, smoother, faster. He realised just how deeply his Velkar True Name—alongside his Furor Bloodline—was improving not only his physical movements but also the combat logic behind each one. It wasn’t just muscle memory; it was battle intuition.

By the time he was done, Alex was drenched in sweat and reeked like a warrior fresh from the front lines.

He cleaned up the training room before heading to the bath for a long, relaxing soak.

When he returned to his bedroom, Fen was still sleeping soundly on the bed.

Magical Beasts really were cheats.

As long as they had a steady diet of high-energy food and enough sleep, they would continue growing stronger without needing to train nearly as hard as humans. It was in their nature.

But Alex didn’t envy them.

Where Magical Beasts had racial limits, humans had potential.

Unlike racial limits—which were nearly impossible to break—human potential could be expanded through effort, resources, and sheer will. Beasts, on the other hand, could only surpass their limitations through rare mutations, evolutions, or atavistic awakenings... and those required extraordinary circumstances or miraculous materials.

Such materials weren’t sought—they were found. And finding them relied more on luck than anything else.

Alex found that far too passive.

Even though he accepted fate and destiny, the idea of placing one’s growth entirely in the hands of chance didn’t sit well with him.

Still, he had high hopes for Fen. He wasn’t sure what the cub’s racial limit was, but it should at least surpass that of his parents—which was at peak Class 3, the Elite Rank.

With Alex’s support, Fen had a real chance of evolving or experiencing an atavism, pushing his racial ceiling at least one rank higher.

Class 5 was a realistic target.

And Alex would make sure he reached it.

He let the young cub be and changed into a fresh set of clothes before heading to the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

The kitchen was surprisingly well-stocked. While it wasn’t the high-quality, mana-rich ingredients he was used to at the Enclave, it was more than sufficient.

Alex decided on something simple—he prepared steaks for both himself and Fen.

While the meat cooked, he grabbed a loaf of bread and stuffed it with two sausages, a fried egg, sautéed onions, and chopped tomatoes. The savoury aroma filled the kitchen.

That was enough to wake Fen.

The cub bolted into the room like a missile, just in time to see Alex wolfing down the last bite of his improvised sandwich.

”Whine~”

Fen stared at him, wide-eyed and pitiful, as if he’d just watched his owner eat his portion.

Alex burst into laughter.

In retaliation, the wolf cub leapt onto him, delivering a light smack to the side of his head with a padded paw. Alex counterattacked by jabbing his fingers into Fen’s sides, wiggling them mercilessly.

It was all in good fun.

Fen, of course, had retracted his claws completely, and Alex was merely tickling. Just a master and his companion playing around like they always had.

By the time the steaks were done, both of them were famished from the mock skirmish.

Fen, under Alex’s influence, had grown used to eating cooked food rich with spices. He only reverted to raw meat when necessary.

Together, the two of them devoured a meal large enough to feed five grown adults—down to the last morsel.

As they finished, a knock echoed from the door.

Right on cue.

Alex raised a brow and walked over.

Opening the door revealed one of the knights who had escorted him back to the Ashen Castle.

The knight bowed slightly. ”The Lord requests your presence, Young Master Alex.”

***