Asoiaf: I Have a Wolverine Template

Chapter 20

Chapter 20: Evolution
...
Richard POV

A week later

The clash of steel echoed through the training yard as I faced off against Gerion Lannister. Normally, I would've smiled, using my footwork to dance around him, but today, I moved slowly and efficiently, dodging his strikes with ease.

My feet shifted only when necessary, each motion deliberate and precise. I wasted no energy on unnecessary movements.

The reason for my restraint was clear: my speed and agility had surged tremendously. I had to control my newfound power; if I allowed myself to move too quickly, I would look like a flea or a cheetah, darting about in erratic motions, movements that would be beyond human comprehension.

I was unfocused on my sparring as I fell into my thoughts, contemplating the implications of my evolving abilities.

When the moment called for a strike or a block, I found myself flicking my wrist, guiding my sword with effortless precision, tapping it against Gerion's blade rather than engaging in full, forceful strikes.

Those gentle taps were deceptively powerful, each one pushing him back. My strength had surged to a level I had yet to fully comprehend, and I realized I needed to learn to control it.

The memory of four days ago loomed large in my mind: a routine spar turned dangerous when I delivered what I thought would be a normal, non-serious strike.

My sword had cleaved through the knight's weapon with a sickening ease, and I had barely managed to pull back in time to prevent a fatal blow. The blade had come within inches of cleaving him in half.

After observing the myriad changes that had unfolded over the past week, I reached a conclusion: I was evolving, or perhaps even mutating. The transformation was profound, and I could feel it coursing through my very being.

I still felt the heat radiating from my adamantium bones, a subtle but constant warmth that had become a part of me.

It wasn't as bad as it had been in the beginning—no longer the searing, unbearable pain that had consumed me. Now, it was just a lingering warmth, almost comforting in a way. I wondered if this was the source of my mutation, the very thing that made me what I am.

Physically, my abilities had surged beyond what I could have ever anticipated. My strength and speed had increased so rapidly that I struggled to adapt.

Each movement felt magnified, as if I were dancing on the edge of my own capabilities, teetering between exhilaration and the danger of losing control.

But this wasn't the only development stemming from my evolution. I had also been grappling with my heightened senses, which had become both a gift and a burden.

The world around me was alive in ways I had never experienced before, every sound amplified to a painful degree.

I could hear Gerion's heartbeat, each thud resonating in my ears like a drum, quickening from the exertion of the spar. But his heartbeat wasn't the only one I sensed; I could feel the pulse of every knight and squire training around me.

The rhythm of their hearts raced in tandem with the intensity of our sparring, creating a cacophony of adrenaline and anticipation.

My eyesight was more acute than ever, allowing me to see every pore on Gerion's face, every droplet of sweat clinging to his skin.

Not only that, but my sense of smell heightened as well. I could distinguish the scent of the men training, the tang of metal and oil from their weapons, even the crisp aroma of leaves rustling in the breeze.