Kaiser stood atop the cliff, the wind howling against his frame like the breath of a beast too large to see. Down below, the shattered plains still bore the scars of his training—gouged stone, shredded grass, a half-collapsed ravine that hadn't existed three months ago.
Six months.
It had taken him that long to master it.No, not master—that word still felt like arrogance.He'd learned to ride the current, not control it. He had shaped his instinct into something precise. Black Wind was no longer just a force—it had become an extension of himself.
"I can't defeat the wolf," he muttered, eyes locked on the horizon."But I no longer have to kneel before it."
The Beginning – Moving Dust
Back then, the wind could barely lift a handful of ash.
Kaiser's first experiments were pitiful. Ants shifted. Dust danced. A leaf might roll a few inches if he strained hard enough. The output was inconsistent, its behavior mysterious. But even in that weakness, there was order.
He started logging every test in a crude leather journal. Each day was a new entry. Each failure, a step closer.
Discovery I – The PatternThree actions.That's what it always came down to:
Sight — He had to see the target clearly. Blurred glass, mist, or faint distance caused sharp drops in accuracy.
Gesture — Holding out his hand—fingers open, palm forward—boosted output nearly threefold. His body acted as a focus.
Strain — Like clenching a muscle he didn't have. An invisible thread deep inside his core. The more he pulled on it, the more the wind answered… but the cost followed soon after.
Note to self: Don't burn out the core. No recovery = no escape.
Discovery II – The Limit of ForceAt full strength, he could lift and throw ten times gravity.That was his hard cap—few kgs
He trained, the edge of sustainability. Day after day, he lifted stones, flung logs, crushed metal frames, measuring duration, cooldown, mental strain, emotional volatility.
He discovered that anger helped—briefly—but led to burnout faster.
Discipline, not emotion, became the key.
Discovery III – Direction and ControlBlack Wind wasn't flight. It obeyed one law: the vector between his palm and the target.
He could only pull toward himself or push away.Lateral motion? Curves? Fantasy.
He once spent three days trying to rotate a coin in mid-air. All he got was a twitch.
So he embraced the line.
He practiced with sandbags, yanked arrows from the air, snatched birds in flight. All in a straight path. Anything else was still out of reach.
Discovery IV – Range300 meters.That was the distance.
Beyond that, the wind turned dull—unfocused. Even magical lenses didn't help. It wasn't about magnification—it was about awareness.
He could launch a rock across a canyon, but if he couldn't feel it, he couldn't guide it.
The Turning Point
It was on Day 2435 that everything clicked.
He wasn't lifting weight.He wasn't pushing matter.
He was moving space.
The wind wasn't just air—it was intent shaped by motion. The Black Wind was the vacuum his will created—the absence of resistance. That's why it couldn't curve. That's why it required sight. That's why it drained the invisible thread in him.
So he stopped fighting the wind.
He let it move through him.
NowNow, he could throw spears without touching them.Now, he could pull himself across ravines with a flick.Now, he could halt a charging boar and twist it mid-stride.
Not because he was strong.Because he was precise.
And if the Lightning Wolf ever caught his trail again…
"I won't defeat it," he said aloud. "But I'll never be its prey again."
He smiled, the cliff wind fluttering against his now-shorn scalp.
The last hairs drifted off the edge, caught and carried.
A fitting tribute to six months of pain.
The wind had taken much.But it had also made him free.
[Day 2190]Six years since his arrival.Six years since he was human.
But now… he was something else.Something more.
Black Wind.
He called it that because it wasn't just wind.It wasn't the breeze that danced through leaves.It was the storm that howled in silence.The pressure before a disaster.
It was power, waiting to be unleashed.
And now, it answered only to him.
He stepped out of his cave—his second home—into air that hung still, while the forest waited like a sleeping giant.
He raised his hand.
Fingers twisted slowly.
The world moved.
Air coiled like invisible serpents. Leaves lifted without a breeze. Soil scattered from force he didn't speak aloud.
This ability… was too flexible.
In his hand, he held a force that could cut, twist, carry, crash, or calm.
And he had only scratched the surface.
He remembered the Lightning Wolf.A beast the size of a skyscraper.Fur veined with lightning.Claws longer than cars.Eyes—judging, ancient.
He'd been a pest. A joke.
But now?
He trained. He went back into the wild—not to lose himself, but to hone himself.
[Day 2191]On a ridge, arms extended, black fur cloaked his arms—partially shifted into his bear form. He caught a gust, twisted it into a spiral, then hurled it into a cliff.
The stone cracked.
He grinned.
A vortex of leaves spun above the trees. He held it—thirty seconds before it unraveled.
Range: 300 meters.Still the limit. But enough.
Now he could:
Create air blades
Accelerate punches
Hover mid-air
Manipulate balance
Choke enemies with vacuum
This wasn't magic.It was mastery.
[Day 2200]He sat in silence as wind circled his form like a slow hurricane.
He no longer needed to gesture.
It responded to intent.
If he breathed with purpose, the wind listened.
He trained endlessly.Fought beasts.Crushed wolves.Shredded hawks mid-air.
Each kill refined him.Each core consumed stabilized him.
[Day 2220]He achieved basic proficiency.
He could summon structured storms—controlled chaos.His bear form had evolved:
Could shrink for energy efficiency
Could expand—briefly—for impact
It wasn't just a transformation.It was a soul form.
And it made him wonder…
Was the Lightning Wolf once like me?Weak. Uncertain. Hunted?
Had it, too, mastered a storm—or had it been born divine?
Either way, he would return.
Not for vengeance. Not for pride.
But because no one would toy with him again.
[Day 2250]He perfected the Air Razor—compressed wind, shaped into a blade. It carved trees like paper. When layered with bear strength, it sliced stone.
[Day 2270]He learned to hover—wind anchors beneath his feet.
Not flight. But the first step.
Ten seconds.Twenty.Drop without impact.
[Day 2290]He fused wind into his roar.
A single roar shattered skulls.Shockwaves. Pressure bursts.
The storm inside him?He wasn't resisting it anymore.
He was becoming it.
The Forest KnewBirds went quiet.Beasts fled.Even trees seemed to recoil.
He was no longer just another predator.
He was its hurricane.
The Black Wind. A myth whispered among ruins.Some called him:
"The blood-covered shadow."
"The beast that walks like a man."
Let them wonder.
Let them fear.
He didn't hunt for names.
He hunted for power.
And the next time that lightning-wrapped god thought to call him insect…
He'd show it what wind does to lightning.