In the early morning before the sun rise. Caelan stepped into the training grounds. As expected, the knights were still asleep—or perhaps pretending not to notice his presence. The grounds were silent, the grass damp with dew.
Luken followed him quietly, clutching a small notepad."I'm not training," Luken said. "I just want to watch."Caelan nodded. "Then watch carefully."
With a small flick of his wrist, Caelan summoned his sword from the subspace pocket. A thin shimmer appeared in the air, and the mana-conductive blade slid into his palm like it belonged there.
He stood still for a moment, then placed a thick iron slab upright in front of him. The surface was scratched and dented from past attempts—but it stood firm like a wall.
Luken frowned. "Wait... is he going to cut that?"
The iron slab was no ordinary training dummy. It was dense, forged to withstand high-pressure swings. A poorly made sword would snap on impact. Most knights used it to test aura or to sharpen control—not to actually cut through.
Caelan inhaled deeply, his feet shoulder-width apart as he aligned his body perfectly with the iron target. His gaze sharpened. He wasn't just trying to break the target—he was aiming to cut it.
He rolled his shoulders, loosening tension, and brought his sword up to shoulder height. The blade caught a glimmer of morning light.
The wind was still.
He began with the breathing technique.Inhale. Hold. Release.His heart slowed.His muscles relaxed—but coiled like springs, ready to strike.
Then he started layering.
First: Magic. He willed strength into his muscles—not brute force, but controlled, explosive power, channeled straight from his core.Next: Speed Spell. A precise boost—not enough to throw off balance, but just enough to sharpen reaction time.Then: Aura. Thin and stable, like a sheath wrapping the blade, not flaring wildly but hugging tight like second skin.
Finally—he called the wind.
It was subtle. A shift in the air. A quiet spiral around his body. It wasn't enough to be seen, but it was felt—like the moment before lightning strikes.
He visualized the motion before moving.
"Cut diagonally—through iron, not against it. Use the angle. Follow through. Don't stop at contact."
Then—he moved.
His foot slid forward, his body turned with the hips, his shoulder dropped slightly.He slashed—not with force, but with timing.Like slicing silk with a sharp knife.
WHSHHH—
The sword passed through the iron target in a blink.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then—A metallic pop echoed.The top half of the iron target slid off at an angle and crashed to the ground with a sharp clang, a faint trail of steam rising from the exposed cut.
Caelan slowly straightened, his chest rising and falling with the effort. The tip of his blade trembled faintly in the air.
Luken blinked. Once. Twice.
"What the… it's like you didn't even hit it—you just went through it," he whispered. He walked to the target and touched the exposed surface. "It's hot! The edge's warm, like it was flash-burned…"
He turned back to Caelan, eyes wide with disbelief.
"That wasn't just strength. That was something else. The cut didn't crush or bend it—it sliced clean. Like butter with a knife!"
Caelan said nothing. He simply looked at the destroyed slab, then at his blade.
Caelan thinks "It's really exhausting to pour all aura into that one attack maybe i can use it twice per day , I need to train my trait so that i can pretend opponent's movements easily"
He flexed his fingers slightly, sensing the drained aura core in his chest. His sword lowered to his side.
Then, aloud, he spoke with resolve, "This'll be my ultimate move for now. It's far from perfect... but it's a start."
Caelan thinks
"I've been training my trait too It gives me insight... into movements, techniques—and even anatomy. Maybe I awakened this kind of trait because I used to be a surgeon in my past life."
Just then, Luken turned his head. "Knights incoming," he warned. "Looks like a few squads are heading this way."
Caelan quickly wiped the blade and slipped it back into his subspace pocket. "Let's not be here when they arrive."
They both slipped quietly out the side entrance, heading toward the back of the training fields, keeping low behind a row of stacked crates.
Moments later, a young knight stepped into the now-empty ground, yawning. "Man… I really need to start working on my aura control again. It keeps flickering during sword drills…"
He paused mid-step.
His eyes locked on the massive iron target. Or rather, what remained of it.
The top half of the slab had slid off cleanly, resting on the ground like a fallen leaf. The cut was so smooth, it almost gleamed.
He froze. "Wh-What the hell…?"
His voice cracked as he shouted, "Hey! Everyone, come here! You've gotta see this!"
Within seconds, more knights rushed in from nearby quarters. One by one, their eyes widened as they took in the sight.
"Who the hell could slice that?"
"No one's sword should be able to do this! That thing's supposed to break blades!"
They all murmured, confused and awed.
But in the back of the crowd stood a senior knight—older, with a sharp jawline and faded crest on his shoulder.
His eyes narrowed as he caught a glimpse of two figures quietly leaving from the far end.
He recognized one of them immediately.
"That failure?" he muttered. "What is he doing here?"
After they slipped past the knight squads, Caelan turned to Luken.
"Head back to the quarters," he said. "Rest. I've got something to do."
Luken blinked. "You're going out again? Where?"
"The forest."
"The one with all the—?"Caelan gave him a look, and Luken stopped. "…Right. Stay alive then."
Without another word, Caelan turned and headed into the dense tree line beyond the estate walls.
The forest wasn't just wild—it was brutal. Towering trees loomed overhead, casting long shadows even in daylight. Monsters lurked between roots and bushes—beasts with scales, claws, venomous breath, and unblinking eyes.
But Caelan wasn't here to fight.
He moved with silence, slipping through the underbrush, eyes scanning. The moment a clawed paw shifted, or wings rustled above—he was already gone.
He wasn't attacking. Only observing. Reading. Learning.
He focused solely on his trait—tracking movement, subtle twitches, posture shifts. The flick of a tail before a pounce. The coil of muscle before a charge.He dodged, weaved, evaded. For hours.
Every encounter sharpened his senses. The surgeon's eye, once trained on flesh and veins, now studied monsters and death.By the time the sun began to set, his cloak was torn, boots scuffed, a thin line of blood on his arm from a close call—but his eyes gleamed with clarity.
That evening, the door to the manor creaked open.
"I'm back," Caelan muttered, brushing leaves from his shoulders.
"Welcome back, Young Master," Gregor said with his usual grace, taking his cloak."Yo, Cael," Luken called from the table, eyes widening. "You look like you got chewed out by a bear."
Caelan gave a tired smile. "Close enough."
After a long bath that washed away the mud, sweat, and faint scent of wild mana, he changed into clean robes and joined them for dinner.
As they ate, Gregor placed a sealed letter on the table.
"We've received official notice from the Patriarch," he said calmly. "Your duel will be held in three days."
Caelan paused, then smiled.
"Three days, huh? Good. I'll show them what I've trained for."
The next two days passed in focused training. Sword drills. Trait refinement. Aura breathing. Caelan didn't push for strength—he sharpened his control, cleaned up his form, and stabilized his new move.
Then, on the final day before the duel… he rested.
He sat under the balcony shade, sipping warm tea, finally letting his body relax. His eyes wandered to Luken, who sat across the courtyard reading something.
Caelan tilted his head.
Dark circles under the eyes—gone.Pale skin—returning to a healthier tone.Hair—no longer brittle, but falling softer around his face.Nails—clean, not chipped like before.
"He's recovering," Caelan thought. "He's finally eating properly. Sleeping. Living."
He smiled quietly to himself.
"That's good."
Caelan says" From tomorrow onwards you can get back to training. "
Luken excitedly "really ?"
"Yes ,but you have to take care of your health and you should try to be in good condition all times as my knight "Caelan replies.
Luken kneel downs " Yes, My Lord".