Dave slept well that night. For once, his sleep was quiet. No battles, no stress—just rest.
The next morning, a loud horn rang through the base. It was the signal for training. Dave opened his eyes right away, calm and rested. He got out of bed, put on the red uniform with the lion symbol on it, and stepped into the hallway.
Other recruits were already rushing toward the courtyard, some still half-asleep. The blond noble from yesterday walked ahead with his two friends, smirking when he saw Dave.
"Try not to fall behind, commoner," he said.
Dave didn't care. He walked at his own pace.
When they reached the courtyard, it was already full of noise. Knights were sparring with fire magic and weapons, and the air was hot from the flames. At the center stood the Crimson Lion captain. Big, scarred, and clearly strong.
"Recruits!" the captain shouted. His voice was loud enough to quiet everyone. "This is the Crimson Lion squad. We don't care about your family names or where you're from. Only strength matters here."
The other recruits looked nervous, but Dave just stood there calmly.
The captain pointed at them. "Veterans—test the new ones. Let's see if they can fight."
The courtyard became busy as veterans pulled recruits into sparring matches. The blond noble laughed loudly, bragging about his magic.
A veteran knight walked up to Dave, patting him on the shoulder. "You. With me."
Dave nodded and followed him into one of the sparring circles. The veteran was tall, with a scar on his cheek and armor that looked well used.
"Alright, rookie," the man said, smirking a little. "Don't hold back."
Dave's grimoire floated beside him, but he didn't bother opening it. He rolled his shoulders and raised his fists.
The veteran grinned. "Good. Let's see that speed."
Everyone nearby watched closely, waiting to see what the quiet new recruit would do. For Dave, it was nothing special. Just another normal day.
The veteran lifted his hand, and fire roared up immediately. The flames swirled around his arm like a whip, snapping across the sparring circle. The heat made the other recruits step back.
"Come on, rookie," the veteran said. "Show me what you got!"
Dave didn't flinch. He didn't even open his grimoire.
The fire lashed toward him like a burning snake. Dave stepped forward once—shave. In an instant, he was gone from where the flames struck. The fire slammed into the dirt, leaving black smoke behind.
The veteran blinked. "What—?"
Dave appeared right in front of him and tapped his chest lightly with two fingers. It looked harmless, but the impact blasted the air like a cannon. The man's body shot back and hit the ground hard, rolling across the dirt.
Gasps went through the courtyard.
The veteran scrambled up, angry now. He lifted both arms and created a storm of flames, spinning them into a giant fireball above his head. The heat grew intense, almost unbearable.
"Try blocking this!" the man shouted, hurling the massive fireball straight at Dave.
Dave sighed. He raised one arm slowly, coating it in a smooth, black sheen of Armament Haki fused with his mana. The fireball crashed down—but it didn't even touch him. The flames broke apart against the coating, scattering like sparks against steel.
Everyone stared.
Dave lowered his arm. Then he stepped in, moonwalk into the air, dropping down with a simple palm strike. The veteran's knees buckled instantly as the strike landed.
The fight was over.
Silence spread through the courtyard. Even the blond noble's smug grin disappeared.
The captain of the Crimson Lions watched with interest, his eyes narrowing slightly. He crossed his arms and gave a short nod.
"…Interesting."
The courtyard was still silent when the flames finally faded. The scorched earth steamed, and the veteran lay groaning on the ground, too dazed to rise.
Dave, hands in his pockets, turned away like it had been a warm-up stretch.
That's when a heavy voice cut through the silence.
"Enough."
The Crimson Lion captain stepped forward, his crimson cloak trailing behind him, boots crushing the dirt with deliberate weight. His presence alone pushed at the recruits like a wall of fire. Even Yuno and Asta straightened instinctively.
The captain's sharp eyes locked on Dave.
"You. Step forward."
Dave glanced over lazily, then sighed and did as asked. He looked relaxed, but his movements carried the same calm sharpness as before.
The captain stopped a few feet away from him. The heat around him spiked—his mana leaking just a little, enough to make sweat bead on the brows of those watching.
"You didn't use a single spell. No chant, no grimoire. You rely on something else entirely." His voice was deep, curious but edged with steel. "Show me."
The crowd stirred—whispers flying. Some thought the captain was angry, others thought Dave might finally be forced to show what he could really do.
Dave smirked faintly. "You sure? I don't want to make it flashy."
"Flashy?" The captain's grin was sharp, almost predatory. "Kid, this isn't some exam. You've already got the robe of the Crimson Lions. But if you're standing in my squad acting untouchable, you'd better prove why."
The recruits tensed, stepping back as the veterans formed a wide circle. This wasn't routine sparring anymore—this was a real test.
Dave cracked his knuckles once. A faint layer of energy rippled across his skin, a dark shimmer—Mana Coating, hardened life force wrapped tight like armor.
"Alright, then."
The captain's mana burst suddenly—fwoosh—his entire body engulfed in roaring crimson flames. The heat shook the courtyard stones, making younger recruits flinch.
"Come at me, boy!"
The courtyard went silent as the two faced off.
Fuegoleon's flames whipped around him like a roaring beast, the heat pressing down on everyone watching. Even the arrogant blond noble swallowed nervously.
Dave didn't flinch. His stance was casual, body loose, but his eyes sharpened. Then—bang—he vanished.
The ground cracked where he had stood as Soru launched him forward.
Fuegoleon barely turned his head before Dave appeared at his side, fist already coated in that dark shimmer of Mana Coating. He swung—straight and clean, no wasted movement.
BOOM!
The captain blocked with a wall of fire, but the punch tore through it like paper, stopping inches from his cheek. The shockwave blasted dust and sparks across the courtyard.
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