I knew I couldn't beat Sir Zenite.
He was a Knight Captain—one of the highest-ranking figures in all of Lionhearth. A man whose aura alone could crush me. A man who had mastered everything I'd been desperately trying to learn.
And yet… he was attacking me.
Why?
To humiliate me?
To test me?
To break me in front of everyone?
My hand tightened around my sword's handle until my knuckles turned white. My heartbeat thundered in my skull. My body was already wrecked from his first strike—just one blow had nearly crushed me. My ribs ached, my head swayed, and my vision pulsed with each beat of my heart.
But I lifted my sword anyway.
I watched him carefully, trying to anticipate his next move.
Then—
He vanished.
"What—?!"
My stomach dropped.
He disappeared so fast I couldn't even follow the angle of his movement.
Panic clawed at my throat. Sweat dripped down my palms. My body trembled.
Calm down.
Remember lesson one.
Breathe.
Hone your senses.
I inhaled sharply and forced everything—fear, anger, pain—out of my mind. I shut out the crowd, the gasps, the pressure of staring eyes.
I focused.
Something clicked inside me.
When I opened my eyes, the world changed.
A faint blue glow pulsed in my vision, outlining movement, pressure, mana flow—things I couldn't see before.
Sir Zenite's expression flickered in surprise.
Good… progress, boy, he thought—I could see that realization in his grin.
I turned sharply—he was right behind me, sword already descending.
I parried.
Steel hit steel.
Sparks flew.
The force rattled my bones—but my stance held.
Gasps filled the arena.
"A perfect parry…?"
"He countered a Captain—?"
"What kind of monster kid is that?!"
Even the aura users were stunned.
For a moment—just a brief moment—I stood on equal ground with a Knight Captain.
Sir Zenite blinked, impressed.
He had been prepared to end the spar right then—until he saw my counter.
His smile stretched wider.
"Good progress," he said.
Then his tone dropped like a hammer.
"But you let it get in your head."
Before I could strike back, he spun.
His heel slammed into my chest.
I felt everything crack at once.
Air blasted from my lungs. Blood splattered from my mouth. My back hit the wall so hard the stone shuddered. My sword dropped from my hand and clattered across the ground.
Two blows…
Only two…
My vision dimmed.
Two blows… and I lost…?
I didn't get to finish the thought.
Everything went black.
Voices echoed faintly as consciousness slipped away.
"Get the priests! NOW!"
"He's coughing blood—hurry!"
"He's just a trainee! Captain Zenite, what were you thinking?!"
Through the fading haze, I heard the fury of the academy's authorities—Sir Dragoneth and Director Raymond—scolding him.
Demanding answers.
"Why did you attack a trainee?!"
"What is the meaning of this, Captain Zenite?!"
And then his voice cut through the chaos—calm, unapologetic, absolute:
"I trained that boy."
Silence.
The entire academy froze.
Whispers erupted instantly.
"Captain Zenite… had a student?!"
"He trained someone? A kid?!"
"Who IS he?!"
"Why didn't anyone know about this?!"
Rumors surged through the academy like wildfire while I lay unconscious in the priests' care.
I didn't hear most of them.
I didn't see the chaos or the shock on everyone's faces.
But I would.
Soon.