A crowd gathers around us.
Everyone wants to see how far I've come these past months—but more than that, they want to see him. Kairen, the envoy from the capital. A man so far above our ranks that even the higher ranking members treat him with caution.
He stands across from me, unhurried, posture relaxed. His confidence is quiet, unshakable—the kind that doesn't need to prove itself.
"I'm ready when you are, Will."
I dash forward, blade gripped tight in my hand. The short, curved steel hums as it cuts through the air, a desperate extension of my own heartbeat. Each strike is sharp, precise—or at least I hope it is—but Kairen doesn't even flinch.
The movements of his katana are graceful. Every swing slices through my attacks as though they were nothing more than drifting smoke.
While my strikes scream urgency, his parries whisper a calm mastery.
"You don't move badly," he says, parrying another strike with incredible ease. "But your speed is average… and your swordsmanship—it's laughable."
His tone is calm, but behind it, I sense a challenge. He wants to see my magic, not some novice swordsmanship.
I turn the world into stillness.
It starts as a vibration in my core—mana twisting through every nerve. Then magic spreads outward, devouring sound and motion until even my heartbeat feels distant.
For a few seconds, the air itself freezes and sound stops its course.
Kairen's expression shifts. His senses falter. He looks for me—but Stillness has already swallowed his world.
I close in. Silent. Controlled. A single step from his blind spot—
But my control fails me and the silence shatters.
Kairen reacts faster than thought, his hand shooting out, catching my leg mid-strike.
A fatal mistake.
Stillness creeps across his wrist, numbing his grip.
I twist, driving my heel into his face. The hit lands with a dull thud, but a faint shimmer of his mana completely absorbs the force."
His mana surges. A pulse, low and deep, rolls through the air like the pressure before a storm.
I leap back.
A clear resonant tone follows, delicate as a raindrop hitting still water.
And then—he's gone.
Kairen reappears in front of me before I can breathe.
I react on instinct. Mana floods my arms, heating the air until the molecules tremble.
The explosion that follows is deafening—far greater than the one I showed Yun and Heinrich. Fire and pressure rip through the room, the shockwave scattering dust and smoke.
But he's already moving. Too fast. Too fluid.
Like a raging tide.
I desperately try to keep up, reading the faint distortions his movements leave behind, chasing him down with a barrage of explosions.
The air vibrates, rippling with heat.
Finally—one connects.
But when the smoke clears, he's not there. Where he stood just an instant before, only a ripple remains.
Something taps my shoulder.
I turn.
Kairen stands behind me, perfectly composed. Not a single burn on his shirt.
"Impressive. Very impressive," he says, lips curling.
The room roars, but Kairen's gaze is focused, assessing, almost thoughtful.
***
From his perspective, the spar had revealed more than he expected.
Will's mobility was average, and his skill with a blade even worse. His overall physical ability? Totally unimpressive.
Yet… his magic.
Kairen folded his arms, eyes narrowing as he studied the faint scorch marks across the floor. If I had been hit directly by one of those blasts, I definitely would have felt it.
And that Stillness technique… it had completely caught him off guard. Will's ability to manipulate molecular motion was dangerous in itself—but what made it truly frightening was how creative and versatile he was with it.
Too chaotic to be formal training, too fluid to be untrained. Unpredictable in every way. Every move felt wrong until it landed—and by then, it was already too late.
Compared to most mages his age, Will's creativity and dexterity with magic were in a class of their own.
A faint smile touched Kairen's lips. So that's your talent.
He wondered briefly what his younger self would have done against such a prodigy. Then he turned toward Will, his expression softening into something almost like admiration.
***
"We're done here," he says. "I look forward to our next spar. When you reach the capital, ask for me."
The envoy leaves; awe and disbelief ripple through the murmuring crowd.
Yun rushes over, his grin stretched wide. "That was insane. I'm speechless."
I wipe sweat from my eyebrows, still half-dazed. "I almost died."
He smirks. "Almost died—you're fine. I guess all the hard training is paying off."
Yun's body trembles—not with fear, but with excitement. Hunger.
For the first time, I see it clearly. Yun doesn't chase power just for the thrill of it. There's something deeper—something that keeps him pushing past exhaustion.
"Next time," he says quietly, eyes bright, "I'm the one fighting that guy."
I grin. "You'll probably have a better chance. My magic's not exactly suited for duels."
"Maybe not," he says, still smiling, "but I don't think he expected you to move like that."
We both laugh, tension fading as the crowd begins to scatter.
My lungs still ache. My pulse is still uneven. The echo of his mana lingers in the air—a reminder of how wide the gap still is.
I thought I'd come far since the Timeless Lake. But standing there, in the ruins of my own power, I can finally admit it—
I'm still nowhere near enough.
Yun claps me on the shoulder. "Don't beat yourself up. You landed a hit. That's more than most can say."
"Barely," I mutter. "Once he got serious, it was over before I could blink."
"Barely is better than nothing." He grins. "Come on. We've got work to do."
Before I can answer, the training hall doors creak open.
"Heinrich and Hyung just got back!" someone shouts. "They're asking for you two!"
A strange mix of relief and anticipation wells in my chest.
I take one last glance at the sparring field. The scorch marks, the scent of smoke, the fading pulse of mana.
The envoy from the capital. The Academy. The royal family.
Everything is beginning to move.
***
That night, the guild hall burned bright with laughter and warmth. Heinrich's booming voice filled the air, Hyung's calm words anchoring it, and for the first time since arriving in Clairmarche, I felt the warmth of home.
Later, I stepped outside.
The sea breeze carried the scent of salt and smoke and the echoes of laughter faded behind me.
For a moment, I just stood there—breathing.
Something stirred deep in my chest. A warmth. A longing.
The stars reminded me of someone and my soul ached, reaching for a name I could no longer remember.
When I blinked, tears blurred the constellations. I hadn't even realized they'd fallen until the salt touched my lips.
Still, the warmth lingered.
***
The days that followed blurred into several months of training, exhaustion and growth. Each sunrise felt heavier, but sharper too. Until one morning, carriages bearing the crest of the capital rolled into Clairmarche.
And with it, the promise of a new beginning.