Grace Monta held the sword in her hand, a strange haze settling over her senses.
It felt as though something had severed her connection to perception itself, dulling her ability to appraise the weapon as she usually would. That in itself was a shock—there were only so many materials in the world capable of evoking such a reaction in her.
Unwilling to jump to conclusions, she turned and handed the blade to a nearby knight who had been watching the forging process with interest.
"You," she said crisply. "What's your name?"
The young knight stiffened in surprise. "Ah—hello, Researcher Monta. My name is Leo. I'm a new trainee of the Blackstone Knights."
Grace's standing within Tranquenhold's research division was considerable, and her presence commanded respect. Even veteran knights spoke to her with caution, let alone a nervous recruit.
She looked at him briefly, then said, "The level range on this sword is 45 to 50. You're qualified. Equip it. Then find someone to spar with—I want to see it in action."
Leo blinked, stunned. He'd only been observing for fun...
But with so many eyes now turned toward him, brimming with expectation, he didn't dare refuse. Besides, defying someone like Grace Monta wasn't something a trainee could afford.
"I'll go!" a burly knight volunteered eagerly, stepping forward.
Grace shook her head. "You're at the same level. That won't show us anything. I need at least a ten-level gap."
Gasps and murmurs rippled through the gathered crowd. Leo's face turned pale.
A ten-level difference?
That was basically a one-sided beating waiting to happen.
At early stages of awakening, especially before the second career shift, such a level gap was practically insurmountable. Skipping levels to win a duel was exponentially harder beyond that point.
Was Grace really asking him to be a punching bag?
Even as uncertainty clouded Leo's expression, his hand tightened around the hilt of the sword. He could feel the weapon pulsing—gentle, yet brimming with restrained power. Magic coursed into him like a river, enhancing all four of his core attributes.
For a knight, a weapon was more than a tool—it was an extension of the soul. And this sword... it resonated.
His hesitation gave way to something else.
Resolve.
"I'll fight."
Gasps broke out again, this time sharper.
Was this really Leo—the usually timid, quiet one—speaking?
Grace smiled faintly, scanning the gathered members.
A formal knight, clad in polished armor and wearing the same Holy Swordsman insignia as Leo, stepped forward.
"I'm ten levels above him," the knight said calmly. "Same class. It should be a fair enough comparison."
Grace gave a nod. "Alright."
Trainee versus official knight.
The onlookers quickly stepped back, forming a wide circle around the improvised arena. Even if this was just a spar, they didn't want to get caught in the aftermath.
Most expected a quick conclusion. With a level and experience gap like this, Leo wouldn't last ten moves—maybe not even one.
The formal knight turned to him. "Leo, my weapon is also a holy sword. Its quality isn't far below yours, and its level cap is even higher. I won't go easy."
Leo nodded nervously, then steadied his stance.
"Brother Gram… please guide me."
A moment of stillness.
Then, like lightning, the official knight lunged forward with the acceleration skill 'Shunpo', aiming to end the match before it even began.
Leo's mind raced. In any normal duel, he would've retreated—kept distance and waited for a counter.
But not this time.
Grace Monta and Karon were here to observe the weapon, not his tactical patience.
So he made a decision:
Face it. Head-on.
A cold glint flickered in his eyes. He unleashed Holy Sword: Blossom Slash—a second-turn skill, swift and elegant.
Gram mirrored the move. It was clear he didn't intend to lose, even in a test.
Clang!
Steel clashed in a flash of blinding light. The air trembled with the sheer force of their impact.
But then, something unexpected happened.
There was no overpowering push from the official knight.
Instead, in the instant the swords locked, Leo's blade erupted in radiant light—swirling hues of blue and pink surged from its edge, laced with arcane sigils and particles that danced like fireflies.
"What… is that…?"
Before the question could be answered, Leo felt it—his strength skyrocketing, as though a dam inside him had broken. Magic surged into his body uncontrollably.
"AAAHHH!"
A luminous glow enveloped him. The next instant, Gram was blown back violently, swallowed by the cascade of light.
There was no thunderous explosion.
No shockwave that tore the ground.
Just... silence.
Gram landed heavily, skidding across the dirt. His sword clattered beside him—cracked and nearly disintegrated.
Everyone froze.
A level-45 trainee knight... had just defeated a level-55 official knight... in one blow?
Using the same skill?
Impossible.
In the ancient Eastern kingdoms, where gifted warriors often rose from obscurity, it wasn't unheard of for exceptional individuals to leap over ranks. They wore such feats like badges of honor.
But Leo wasn't one of them.
They had trained with him. Eaten with him. Watched his progress daily.
He wasn't that kind of genius.
And yet… he won. Effortlessly.
Their collective gaze turned, almost in unison, to Grace and Karon.
Both stood frozen, eyes wide, as though witnessing something unnatural.
Then, finally, Grace whispered in astonishment:
"Forced knockback… That's it. The sword carries a forced knockback effect!"
Karon's mouth fell open. "A hidden attribute… this holy sword actually has a hidden combat trait!"