The days following his breakthrough passed quietly. Stephen spent his mornings in the forge, his afternoons training, and his nights cultivating until exhaustion finally pulled him under. The world outside seemed to shrink into a rhythm of hammer strikes, shimmering sparks, and the steady pulse of energy within his veins.
Yet beneath that calm surface, something inside him had changed.Each time he looked at the faint mark of his soul bracelet — Level 7 — it wasn't pride that stirred in his chest, but a quiet determination.
The entrance exams were less than three weeks away. Miss it, and he'd have to wait another year.
And he couldn't wait. Not anymore.
His father, Thane Stormcloud, noticed the change too.One morning, as Stephen quenched a heated blade into the barrel, Thane wiped the sweat from his brow and spoke without looking up.
"You've been pushing yourself harder than usual."
Stephen nodded, eyes fixed on the steam rising from the water. "The exam's coming up."
Thane's hammer paused mid-swing. "So you've decided to go?"
Stephen turned toward him. "I have to. You always said strength decides how much choice a man truly has. I want to see what lies beyond this town… and what Mother's world was like."
For a long while, Thane said nothing. The sound of metal meeting metal filled the silence, each strike deliberate, echoing in the cramped forge like a heartbeat.
Finally, he set his hammer down. "Then you'll need a blade that matches your resolve."
He walked toward the weapon rack and ran a calloused hand across the rows of swords and daggers — until he stopped at a long, narrow chest resting in the corner. Opening it, he pulled out a blade wrapped in black cloth.
"This was your mother's light sword," he said quietly. "She forged it herself before… before we lost her."
Stephen stepped closer, reverence in his movements. When Thane unwrapped the blade, its surface gleamed faintly, the edge reflecting a cool azure hue under the forge light.
"It's lighter than steel but sharper than mithril," Thane continued. "I reforged it once after it cracked. Thought I'd never have to see it used again."
Stephen took the sword in both hands. It hummed softly at his touch — a resonance that sent warmth through his arms, as if it remembered him.
Thane's expression softened, his usual sternness slipping into quiet nostalgia. "You've her blood, boy. And her spirit. But remember, the world out there won't care who you are. You'll need more than bloodline and luck."
Stephen sheathed the sword carefully, then looked up. "Then I'll earn my place — and her pride — through my own strength."
A faint smile crept across Thane's weathered face. "Spoken like a true Stormcloud."
That night, Stephen stood alone on the small hill behind their home. The moon hung low, bathing the world in pale silver. The cool wind brushed against his face, carrying with it the scent of iron and earth.
He unsheathed his new sword and held it up against the light. The azure reflection shimmered across his eyes.
His soul bracelet glowed faintly — Novice, Level 7. Merit Points: 60.
Not much, but enough to start.
In the distance, beyond the faint glow of the village, the faint outline of the city's barrier shimmered like a distant dream.
That was where his journey truly began.
He took a deep breath, letting the night air fill his lungs. "Mother… I'll find the truth. And when I return, I'll be stronger than ever."
The Azure Sparrow inside his soul sea gave a soft cry — a note of agreement, proud and defiant.
The next morning, when Thane came out to the forge, Stephen was already gone.Only a folded note rested on the workbench beside a glowing ember.
Father,Thank you for everything. I'll make you proud.—Stephen
Thane stared at the letter for a long moment before setting it down gently. Then he looked toward the horizon, his voice a low whisper carried by the wind.
"Go, my boy. Find your own flame."