The morning light ricocheted off the mirror and shattered against Kul-Kain's face like a blade of glass. That sharp, unforgiving glare was what ripped him out of sleep.
"Ugh… everything still hurts… I'm really terrible at this…" he thought, letting a small breath of self-pity slip from his lips. He stayed sprawled on the mattress, unmoving, as if even the weight of the air was enough to keep him pinned in place.
"Maybe… this whole ceremony thing just isn't for me."
The memories washed over him like rough sand: the sharp whispers, the stifled giggles, the skeptical glances. His whole life, even when he was present, he had always felt like a forgotten ghost lurking in the corners of the room.
At the gatherings of the Round Table — where the most renowned sword families met — the looks cast at him and his father were sharper than their own blades. And even though the Kulainn family had started rising again after years of decline, the stain he carried — the inability to wield aura — was a mark many believed to be indelible.
Even within his own household, among uncles and cousins, he had always been "the sour grape of the harvest," the son of a branch that would never bear fruit.
The boy who had ruined the clan's reputation.
And yet…
For the first time in his life, something had shifted.
A possibility had opened. Small, fragile, but real.
And Kul-Kain had no intention of wasting it.
"It's time. I'll make them all understand who I really am."
A smile rose to his lips on its own.
He sprang out of bed and dove into his routine like a soldier remembering why he fights.
The training grounds awaited him.
His sword was cold, but his hands — sore and trembling — were warm with determination.
Every slash, every thrust, every strike delivered against the training dummy — which, in his eyes, increasingly morphed into the fierce spirit of an invisible opponent — marked the time counting down to his final challenge.
Minutes.
Hours.
Entire days.
Sweat ran from his forehead down the guard of his sword to the very tip, like a stream escaping between his fingers.
But he didn't care.
In those moments, nothing existed beyond him, the sword, the beat of his heart, and the meals he devoured hastily before training again.
The teasing he had suffered for years — the fake smiles, the disdainful comments — were no longer thorns in his side: they had become the fuel for his revenge.
And with each passing day, his movements grew more harmonious, more fluid, thanks to the Aurum Triskell that steadily refined his core and heart, making him more stable, more resolute.
But he wasn't the only one who noticed.
From the office above, behind a window overlooking the grounds, Atlas Kulainn observed. The head of the family had never been a tender man, nor one known for paternal warmth.
But as he watched the rhythm of his son's arms, the cruel determination in his movements, he couldn't help but smile.
"The boy… has finally figured out how to use what he has."
His father admired those who fought to the end, even without talent.
Perhaps… especially without it.
The day before the coming-of-age ceremony arrived like the calm before a storm.
Over the last six days, Kul-Kain had pushed his aura cultivation to the limit, faced the mental projection of the Mind's Eye, and studied beasts and magical creatures. He knew all of it would be indispensable during the trial.
He was ready — or at least he hoped he was.
Sitting in the dim room, he completed the last meditation of the day.
His hands, now hardened and calloused like the hide of a beast, trembled lightly with exhaustion.
"I feel… invincible compared to before."
And for the first time, it wasn't an illusion.
Right then, after almost a week of silence, the Eliùs System reignited its violet glow before him.
『 Mission 00: completed at 60%.
Retrieving rewards… 』
"Gulp…"
His throat ran dry. He leaned toward the floating panel as though it were sacred.
"Rewards… they have to be good, right?"
[DING. DING.]
The mental chimes hammered gently in his skull.
The panel flickered, then stabilized.
『Pre-Ceremony Rewards:
— Status Observation
— Intermediate Swordsmanship
— Mirror Aura Awakening
— Golden Sword Techniques
— Mind's Eye』
His breath grew ragged with excitement. And another panel opened before him, revealing every detail of himself:
『Username: Kul-Kain Kulainn
Title: The Dullest Sword of Lago
Height: 1.82 Ekh
Weight: 78 Im
Personality: caring, resilient, indecisive, gentle
Aura: 1st Grade
Aura Type: Mirror Aura
Skills:
— Intermediate Swordsmanship
— Golden Sword Techniques
— Aurum Triskell
— Beast Knowledge
— Mind's Eye
Condition:
— Hyper Energy Capacity (Genetic Illness)
Note: requires 3× energy for each cultivation advancement.
』
Kul-Kain's heart exploded with joy.
1st Grade.
Finally.
He had truly done it.
"FINALLY!! YES! YES! FINALLY!"
His scream echoed through the entire estate, and for once, he didn't care who heard it.
He was on cloud nine.
He was at the starting line.
And he would never again let someone cross it in his place.
He slapped his cheeks twice, waking every fiber of his body.
He grabbed his sword and sprinted toward the training grounds.
This time, however, his breathing wasn't labored.
This time, he wasn't chasing a distant dream.
This time… he was the horizon.
The final test before the ceremony wasn't against a monster, nor a rival.
It was against himself.
His darkest shadow.
His cruelest illusion.
And Kul-Kain was ready to shatter it.
But in the end, thoughts are one thing.
Reality is another.
"Mind's Eye: activated."
Thanks to his week of relentless training, he had learned to trigger the Mind's Eye at will, using it more efficiently each time.
A figure emerged from the shadows.
It was no longer just a training dummy brought to life.
In Kul-Kain's mind, it had taken on a familiar shape — but there was something off about it, something that felt foreign to this world.
It remained an illusion of himself, yet somehow… different.
Two words slipped from the anomaly's mouth:
"Bring it on."
As if mocking him, it gestured for him to come closer.
Kul-Kain didn't hesitate.
He poured aura into his limbs, becoming lighter, faster.
In an instant he closed the distance, thrusting his blade forward.
Certain he had struck true, Kul-Kain allowed himself a smile —
but reality proved otherwise.
His sword hit nothing but a fading afterimage of the projected Kul-Kain.
The real opponent was already behind him.
A breath.
A whisper of air.
A single instant too slow.
The projection struck the back of his head with the back of its hand, spinning him around.
Kul-Kain hit the ground with a grunt. "Tch… so you're playing dirty now?"
The figure smiled.
Not an evil smile.
A superior one — like an adult amused by a child trying to imitate him.
"Do you really think… just moving faster is enough?" the projection asked, speaking with his own voice, but deeper, older. "You still don't understand how your own aura works, Kul-Kain."
Rage surged inside Kul-Kain's chest.
He lunged again, aura flowing through his feet, arms, even his breath.
The ground cracked beneath him as he unleashed a flurry of blows: high, low, diagonal, twisting slash, lunge, circular cut.
Golden techniques flowed seamlessly from his mind into his muscles.
His blade left triskell-shaped trails of light in the air.
The projection, however… danced.
Every movement was a perfect, effortless counter.
It wielded the sword like an extension of pure thought — a slight shift of the wrist, a measured step back, a precise rotation of the hips.
Metal met metal, spraying violet sparks across the training grounds.
[CLANG — CLING — KSHHH—]
Kul-Kain leapt back to catch his breath, but the projection gave him no time.
It was upon him like a predator.
A slash.
Kul parried.
A thrust.
He redirected it.
A spinning kick.
It hit him square in the chest, slamming him into the ground hard enough to crack it.
"You're not slow," the figure said, walking forward.
"You're indecisive."
Kul-Kain spat blood — a single crimson drop onto the dirt.
"And you're… annoying," he growled, pushing himself back up.
He gripped his sword tighter and closed his eyes for just a heartbeat.
Then opened them.
Kul-Kain's eyes turned golden.
And suddenly…
Everything slowed.
Everything sharpened.
He saw the projection's advance.
Saw the motion of its shoulders.
Saw the vibration in its wrist.
Saw the arc of its blade before it even moved.
"Now… I can see."
They clashed again.
The projection charged.
Kul-Kain mirrored it.
Their blades collided with a sound no longer metal, but energy striking energy.
Light shattered like glass around them.
Kul-Kain changed his rhythm.
No more perfect strikes.
No more textbook movements.
Pure instinct.
Controlled chaos.
A strike to the shoulder.
One to the leg.
A spin.
A sidestep.
A thrust that tore the air open.
The projection tried to predict him… and failed for the first time.
Kul-Kain wasn't following any style anymore.
He was creating one.
His sword grazed the projection's cheek, leaving a shimmering line.
The figure stopped.
Looked at him.
And truly smiled.
"Finally."
Then it vanished —
ONLY TO REAPPEAR ABOVE HIM.
It fell like lightning, blade raised for a vertical strike that could split a wagon.
Kul-Kain crossed his sword, channeled aura into his legs, and blocked — releasing an explosion of golden light.
KRRRRSHH—
The ground cracked beneath him in concentric waves.
His arms trembled.
His mind screamed.
His heart pounded like war drums.
"I… WON'T… LOSE… TO YOUUUUU!!"
He pushed.
With everything he had.
Aura.
Breathing techniques.
And finally — the family's Light Sword.
A shockwave of aura burst from him, blasting the projection backward.
His final strike came naturally — a smooth reverse cut, a twist of the hips, a clean thrust straight through the projection's chest.
The blade of light burst out its back like a lance of dawn.
Silence.
The figure looked down at the wound, then raised its gaze to him.
Its eyes were familiar.
Warm.
Sorrowful.
"So… you've taken your first step."
Kul-Kain's breath caught.
Just for a moment, he saw an adult.
Taller.
Stronger.
More assured.
More… him.
The projection smiled — proudly.
"We'll meet again, Kul-Kain."
Its voice trembled like a memory from a future that hadn't yet happened.
"And next time… it won't end like this."
The figure shattered into a thousand fragments of light, each one sinking into Kul-Kain's chest like a warm, familiar tide.
Kul-Kain was left alone on the battlefield, panting, gripping his hilt with trembling hands.
But he wasn't trembling from fear.
For the first time… he felt like he had truly won.
…And with that realization, he collapsed onto the ground.
— to be continued —