It was easy to say those kind of words, to know what it is that you need, and to say that, starting from tomorrow or today, you will begin to work towards that goal, to train and train and achieve the strength that you sought, the strength that you thought you'd need. But that was so much easier said than done; when it came down to the nitty-gritty, was there anyone in this world who could stay motivated on simple words alone? Is it not normal to stop before you reach your limit? But if that is so, then isn't it safe to say that one can never improve? Is it better to run until your lungs threaten to burst out of your chest, or to stop and train another day? When your arms no longer have any strength, is it more wise to stop or to continue on at the risk of injury; to tear a ligament, or muscle? Houren asked himself these questions as he paddled out around the Orchidia river on his little boat, using little strength as it seemed like wind was generous enough to provide a strong breeze for him. He felt like his progress had stalled as of late, that he was as strong as he was ever going to get, but that couldn't possibly be true, could it? He began to look at the types of requests that he did, the D and C-rank missions that very rarely called upon his martial ability, the kind that you could take and finish in a single day. He remembered his old childhood friend's father, the man that he had aspired to be like in his youth; that man had taken many quests, jobs that required him to be out of town for days, weeks, sometimes even months at a time. Those were the jobs that Houren wanted to do, the kind that really tested your mettle, work that would directly influence the very state of affairs in the nation. Perhaps that was why Houren had originally wanted to be a Rune Knight, to rise up from page to Kingsguard until he was directly responsible for ensuring the safety of the royal family.
Maybe that was the kind of admirable work he wanted to do, or maybe he was just becoming disillusioned with his means of employment. If he didn't train regularly, then there was no way for him to get stronger, was there? But if he was never put in a life or death situation, the kind where you'd end up dead if you messed up, but would improve tenfold if you somehow managed to get past it, then there was no way he could improve either, was there? It wasn't as though he needed to be strong to make a living, he had enough money to live this nomadic lifestyle simply by helping the influential people renovate their city, by nabbing small time stalkers and thieves, and helping kindly innkeepers with their businesses during rush hour or when their regular workers got sick. If he cut down on the luxuries, take the cheapest bed in the inn instead of the most expensive and ate frugally, he'd probably make enough to be able to settle down in a small city somewhere, start up a business or continue to take quests at the local guild. It wasn't as though he needed a lot to live on, and there were many small places with an abundance of work that needed to be done. Houren could fill that niche in whatever small town in Fiore.
But there was a big problem; his magic.
He was a Fire Dragon Slayer, a man who had been gifted, no, who had fought and obtained the right, the privilege of possessing a power capable of slaying a dragon, those ancient beasts who were said to roam Fiore over hundreds of years ago. It wasn't as though towns were the norm in every nook and cranny of the nation either, and whether dragons continued to exist someplace in this world was left to be seen. If they returned and caused havoc, surely Houren would be asked to defend humanity? Or would he? He was not the only Dragon Slayer in existence, as there were other lacrimas that contained such power. There were others, too, who claimed to have been taught the magic by an actual dragon, and as such, it could be assumed that they were much more efficient with their magic that Houren could ever hope to be. There was another thing bugging him too, the common knowledge that Dragon Slayers were destined to compete against each other for the title of Dragon Emperor; it was known to even those who were not Dragon Slayers, so who was to say that, even if Houren decided to lay low for the rest of his days, that he wouldn't be attacked? If, by that time, he had raised a family, would he be able to protect them from the clutches of a more malicious Dragon Slayer who intended to take the Emperor motif for him or her self?
Once upon a time, a young boy had aspired to become an ally of justice, a great hero who could protect everybody. Now, years later, he was having doubts about that, not about what he wanted to do, he still wanted to be a great ally of justice, but the question was whether he, himself, was capable of achieving that feat. What was the point of being overly ambitious when you lack talent? And if this was the limit for him, then it was proof that he lacked the drive to fight for his dreams. Suddenly, Houren felt himself getting angry, not at anyone in particular, or the world at large. If anything, he was probably angry at himself, but that itself wouldn't be able to truly explain the feeling. He was simply angry that he wouldn't be able to defend anything. He opened his mouth and began to inhale, as a means of trying to calm himself down, but when he released his breath, flames came out as though he were a firework machine.
Roar of the Fire Dragon 1000/1000
Brilliant Flame of the Fire Dragon 34/1000