"Well, well, well… our youngest is already training so diligently so early in the morning."
The voice carried a mixture of arrogance and authority. Ronan turned toward the gate, recognizing it instantly.
"Do you want to spar with me again, huh?"
Standing at the entrance was Daniel Blackwood, his half-brother—seven years old, tall for his age, his lips curved into a smug smile.
Ronan exhaled slowly. "You want to spar with a three-year-old boy when you're already twelve this year, Brother Daniel?" His tone remained calm, but his eyes betrayed mild irritation.
There was no shortage of family drama in the House of Blackwood.
"My father has three wives." Ronan thought quietly, "and my mother—the youngest—is treated unfairly by the others because no one knows where she came from. Not even Father speaks of her origins."
His gaze hardened slightly. "Daniel Blackwood, son of the second wife, Elaira… this bastard keeps harassing me because of his insecurity. He can't stand that I outshine him even as a child."
Daniel smirked. "What are you talking about, youngest? The heir of Blackwood shouldn't say things like that. I'm merely trying to improve your battle skills as your big brother."
He raised his wooden sword lazily, though his mana stirred beneath the surface. "If you're that scared, I'll even fight without using mana."
Ronan frowned faintly. "He won't stop unless I stand up for myself… but if I defeat him, the Second Lady will retaliate against Mother. I can't risk that."
With composed courtesy, he said, "Brother Daniel, I don't think I'm capable enough to spar with you."
"I think we should focus on our trai—"
Before he could finish, Daniel lunged forward.
Clank!
Ronan barely brought up his wooden sword in time, intercepting the strike. The force vibrated up his arm.
"What's the meaning of this, Brother Daniel?" he demanded, meeting Daniel's smirk with a calm stare.
"Oh, don't be so tense," Daniel replied mockingly, swinging again. "It's just a friendly spar between brothers."
But before his blade could connect again—
Snap!
A pale hand shot out and caught the sword mid-swing.
Rina stood between them, her fingers gripping the wooden blade effortlessly. The weapon trembled, but her skin remained unscathed.
"Young Master Daniel," she said coldly, her tone sharp as steel. "Is this how a warrior of Blackwood conducts himself? Striking without warning at a child barely three years old?"
Her mana flared—dense and oppressive. The ground beneath Daniel cracked as the invisible pressure bore down upon him. Even the air around her seemed to shimmer.
Ronan exhaled in relief. "Even though Daniel is the designated heir, the instructors of the Blackwood heirs are all family members. Here, in the training ground, Rina's word is absolute."
"After all, no noble family would entrust their sacred arts to outsiders. The instructors must always be bound by blood.
"Perhaps," Rina said icily, her voice dripping with disdain, "you've grown too idle in your own training. Should I inform your instructor, Sir Kael, that Young Master Daniel has so much free time he's resorted to picking on toddlers?"
Daniel's jaw tightened, his face flushing red with humiliation. "Tch… fine." He jerked his sword free from her grasp, glaring at Ronan. "Hide behind a woman all you like, little brother. Let's see how long she can protect you."
He turned on his heel and stormed off, the echo of his footsteps fading through the courtyard gate.
The tension dissolved with his departure.
"Thank you, Teacher Rina," Ronan said, bowing slightly. "You saved me again."
Rina's stern expression softened, and she laughed lightly. "It's nothing, Ronan. But be careful. Knowing Daniel's temperament, he won't let this go easily."
"I'm sorry, Teacher. Because of me, you were dragged into this."
"What are you saying?" she smiled faintly. "Forget about him. Let's continue your training." She drew the slender sword from the sheath at her waist. "It's time you saw the Second Form of the Shadow Blade."
Ronan's eyes brightened immediately.
Rina stepped into position at the center of the training ground. Her posture straightened, shoulders squared, and mana began to hum faintly around her blade.
"The first form, Hundredfold Cuts, focuses on speed—countless strikes in a heartbeat," she explained. "But the second form… is about power."
She inhaled deeply. The shadows at her feet thickened and began to twist like smoke drawn toward her sword. Black mana coiled around the blade, compressing into a dense layer of darkness that pulsed with restrained violence. The surrounding air warped, faint ripples forming as the sheer density of mana distorted space.
"Second Form of the Shadow Blade—Shadow Break (影裂斬)."
Her voice fell silent.
Then—she swung.
A single, precise arc cut through the air.
The moment the blade moved, the world seemed to darken.
A thunderous boom erupted as a shockwave of condensed shadow burst outward from the strike. The darkness raced across the training ground, a slicing wave that tore through the air like a living crescent of night.
Stone training dummies in its path cracked instantly. The thick defensive wall fifty meters away trembled before a clean, diagonal fissure split it apart. Dust exploded outward as the shockwave dissipated, leaving only silence—and destruction.
Ronan stood speechless, his heart pounding.
"That power… from just one strike. Even through i have mastered the second form perfectly from observation and reading from the book, but because of my lack of Mana i couldn't perform the same level of destruction yet moreover i couldn't show it yet."
Rina lowered her blade, the dark aura fading slowly from its edge. She exhaled, smiling faintly. "This is the essence of Shadow Break. Where the first form overwhelms with relentless speed, this one focuses all that momentum and mana into a single, decisive blow. One strike… to shatter the enemy before they can even blink."
She turned to him, her eyes gleaming. "Now, Ronan—let's see how well you can control that power."
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