Time flowed like water—quiet, relentless.
Before Kaien even realized it, three full months had slipped past him.
The once-small boy who had struggled to even dent a boulder with a wooden sword now stood in the center of the training field, his feet firmly rooted into the earth, his breathing steady and controlled. Sweat glistened faintly on his brow, but his eyes—sharp, calm, and focused—betrayed none of the exhaustion one would expect from such intense training.
"Daystrike—First Form!"
His wooden sword slashed forward.
A clean arc of force followed, slicing cleanly through a massive stone slab in front of him. The boulder split neatly into two halves before collapsing with a thunderous boom that echoed across the valley.
Without pausing, Kaien twisted his waist and shifted his stance.
"Second Form!"
The blade danced again—faster this time. The remnants of the boulder shattered into dozens of fragments, scattering across the field like shattered glass.
Kaien inhaled deeply.
"Third Form!"
The air trembled.
The sword flashed.
What remained of the stone was reduced to dust, carried away by the wind in a fine gray mist.
From the shade of a tall oak tree at the edge of the field, Master Kael Tharion stood motionless, his arms folded behind his back. His expression was calm—too calm—but his eyes told a very different story.
"…Unbelievable."
Kaien did not stop.
He transitioned smoothly, his movements flowing like water, as though his body no longer needed conscious instruction.
"Darknight Slash—First Form."
The light around the blade dimmed. The slash came silently, cutting through another boulder as though it were soft clay.
"Second Form."
A deeper, heavier strike followed.
The entire boulder didn't just break—it collapsed inward, crushed by an invisible pressure before exploding outward in thousands of fragments.
Kaien lowered his sword and exhaled slowly.
His chest rose and fell in a controlled rhythm. No trembling. No instability. No wasted mana.
He had done it effortlessly.
Kael finally moved.
Each step he took toward the boy felt heavier than the last.
This…
This isn't normal.
In his mind, Kael muttered quietly, his gaze fixed on Kaien as though looking at a rare treasure.
"This kid… it hasn't even been a year. Not even close. Just under three months—and he's already mastered both the Daystrike and Darknight techniques."
Kael clenched his fist.
"I don't know why the hell the awakening altar branded him with such a pathetic rank… but this child is a true genius to the core."
Kael snapped out of his thoughts and cleared his throat.
Kaien turned immediately, straightening his posture.
"Yes, Master?"
Kael studied him for a long moment before speaking.
"Now that you've mastered the basic sword techniques," he said slowly, "we move on to the real deal."
Kaien blinked.
Kael continued, his tone serious.
"If you can master the technique I am about to teach you… you will be able to graduate."
The words hit Kaien like a blunt strike.
"…Graduate?" he repeated, his voice rising slightly in disbelief.
A faint panic surfaced in his chest.
"Why?!" Kaien blurted out. "I—I haven't even learned enough yet!"
Kael raised a brow.
Before Kaien could continue, Kael interrupted calmly.
"And who told you that?"
Kaien froze.
Kael stepped forward and crouched slightly so they were closer in height.
"Do you remember the first day you stood here?" Kael asked. "When you couldn't even control your mana properly? When your sword wobbled, and you nearly collapsed after ten thrusts?"
Kaien's face flushed.
"…Yes."
Kael gestured toward the shattered field.
"Look at you now. You've comprehended every technique I've taught you. You've refined them, stabilized them, and made them your own."
He sighed softly and placed a firm hand on Kaien's shoulder.
"Listen carefully, kid."
His voice softened.
"Don't rely too much on a single idea… or a single tutor. If you want to become a true swordmaster, you must eventually forge your own path."
Kaien swallowed.
The words stung—but not because they hurt.
They stung because they were true.
"…Understood," Kaien said quietly, nodding.
"Good." Kael straightened. "Now pay close attention."
The atmosphere shifted.
Kael stepped onto the field.
His posture changed completely.
His waist bent slightly, his feet adjusting against the earth as though anchoring himself to the world. He lowered his head and brought the wooden sword to the side of his waist—like a blade waiting to be unsheathed.
The air itself seemed to grow heavier.
Kael inhaled.
Then exhaled.
His voice rang out—deep, calm, and absolute.
"Forbidden Technique—Lightning Dance, Heavenly Strike."
Kael moved.
The thrust came so fast that Kaien's eyes barely followed it.
A violent shockwave erupted.
The earth split open beneath them—clean, straight, terrifying—racing forward like a divine judgment. The ground ruptured violently, the fracture stretching far into the distance.
Mountains trembled.
Then—
BOOM.
A distant mountain split cleanly into two.
But that wasn't all.
The sky reacted.
The clouds above tore apart, forming a massive rift as though the heavens themselves had been cleaved open.
Kaien stood frozen.
His mouth hung open.
His heart pounded violently.
Beautiful…
Terrifying…
Kael slowly straightened and turned back.
"This technique," he said calmly, "is a fusion of the Daystrike and Darknight techniques. It took me years to comprehend and master."
He glanced at Kaien.
"I expected you to take at least a year to fully grasp the basics before I even considered teaching you this."
A faint, incredulous smile appeared.
"But you did it in under three months. Faster than I ever did at your age."
Kaien's chest swelled with pride—and fear.
"You're strong, kiddo," Kael said honestly. "And that's why I don't have much left to teach you after this."
Kaien clenched his fists.
"But listen carefully—this technique causes extreme mana drain and physical exhaustion. Never rely on it recklessly."
Kaien nodded seriously.
"Yes, Master."
And so the training continued.
Kaien attempted the stance.
Failed.
Adjusted.
Failed again.
Kael corrected him patiently—pointing out flaws in posture, timing, mana flow.
Days passed.
Then weeks.
Failure after failure.
Kaien collapsed more times than he could count.
His muscles screamed.
His lungs burned.
But he never stopped.
Four months later—
The field was silent.
Kaien stood alone, his breathing steady, his gaze sharp.
Kael watched from behind, his curiosity unmistakable.
Kaien adjusted his stance.
Gripped the wooden sword tightly.
Inhaled.
Exhaled.
Mana flowed—clean, controlled, refined.
"Forbidden Technique—Lightning Dance, Heavenly Strike!"
PFFTT—
The thrust shot forward.
The earth split.
The sky shifted.
The clouds parted.
Silence followed.
Kael's eyes widened.
"…He—he actually did it."
For the first time, Kael clapped loudly—genuinely.
"Congratulations, Kaien. You've passed."
Kaien turned, breathing hard, eyes shining.
"You've graduated," Kael continued. "From here on, you must walk your own path."
Kaien smiled—but sadness lingered.
"…Thank you, Master."
Kael nodded once.
As Kaien left the field, Kael watched him disappear into the distance.
This child…
He's something else entirely.