Jinto sat alone in his room. The sun was close to setting completely. Red brilliance illuminated the room as well as Jinto's face.
"Most I could do today was hit the target from ten meters, but it is still lacking power," Jinto thought.
He had stayed in the training grounds until evening, practicing his Wind Blade until the sun had set. Now, he had come home alongside Paul and Melissa.
Not only was his Wind Blade not powerful enough, but he still couldn't cast the spell successfully from fifteen meters. It wasn't that Jinto was untalented; it was just a matter of getting used to casting the spell. The visualization and mana flow had to match exactly, and even the intent had to align. He needed to be filled with no emotions, calm as a river.
"It seems only practice can make perfect."
Jinto was tired. He was mentally strained. Casting spells not only required mana but also mental energy. One must remain focused, with factors such as intent and visualization taking a toll on the mind.
As he was thinking, a knock on the wooden door resounded.
"Come in."
From the door, a maid wearing a brown garment entered. Her curtain bangs fully displayed, revealing her red eyes.
"Young master, dinner is ready to be served," Sarina said submissively.
"Alright, thank you, Sarina. You're dismissed." Jinto waved his hand.
Sarina bowed and left the room.
Jinto's thoughts wandered off at the sight of Sarina. He remembered the first time he had met her. She was quite pathetic at the time. She had been just a twelve-year-old girl, only older than him by one year, her parents tragically killed due to a beast tide. Jinto's father, Teren, took her in due to an open maid position.
Back then, it had been awkward between the two. Sarina was rather clumsy and shy, always messing up and speaking incredibly low. But she had her senior maids to support her. He couldn't dare imagine losing family members at such a young age. His heart truly pitied her. Jinto thought that she had come a long way since then.
Undoubtedly, they had been a bit close as children since they mostly stayed together for long periods of time, but when his father took him to oversee hotel affairs with him, he no longer had the free time he used to and slowly, things drifted apart.
He only had friendly relationships with his cousins, Melissa and Paul. But to him, he couldn't consider them friends since they were bound by blood and stuck in the same house.
Like Paul, he wanted to branch out more, but he didn't know how to. Paul was a natural chatterbox, something Jinto couldn't fully grasp. In other words, he was somewhat socially inept.
At first, he thought of his young master status as being too high and that others were not worthy to be friends with him. His family's financial status was well above others, but it still lacked compared to those families with elders in the clan. He had long refuted these thoughts and had an open mind, but he didn't know how to convey his thoughts through words.
Jinto stared at the wall as he thought before getting up and walking towards the door. He was hungry and exhausted after practicing for the entire day, having only eaten the breakfast the maids had served before he left.
…
The Next Day
Jinto was sweating as the sun cast its light upon the training grounds, his forehead highly reflective due to the accumulated sweat.
He saw many familiar faces, those whom he had seen in the awakening ceremony—Aldering, Balter, Dylan, Vitus, and so on.
They were all still practicing their hardest. The most notable of them was Vitus. He was rapidly approaching the proficiency Jinto was at. This only rang alarms in his head, making him keep an eye out for a competitor.
Some students had started forming friend groups amongst themselves, sharing their experiences while casting.
It had been two days since they last had class. Next week, they would meet again with Master Hector for a proficiency test of the spell.
Jinto casted.
Swoosh.
A Wind Blade shot out, hitting the leg of the mannequin. With a sound, the Wind Blade collided, leaving a big dent on its leg.
Jinto casted again.
This time, it hit the chest. But the power was slightly off.
He casted.
This time, the Wind Blade completely missed.
Jinto looked troubled. Power was the number one problem he encountered when casting. He couldn't get the power right to cut through.
"How did Olsen manage to split the mannequin?" Paul looked puzzled.
"Paul, focus more on aiming. I see that it's currently your biggest problem. Olsen has gotten some sort of guidance that has put him above us. Looking at all the people here, nobody can do it as well," Melissa replied.
Paul, worried, said, "I'm afraid at this rate, he will get the mana stones."
"Maybe so," Melissa sighed.
"Jinto, so far you've managed to hit it from thirteen meters—not bad. I'm still stuck at eight," Paul switched the topic.
"Thanks to Melissa, speed wouldn't be a problem. At this rate, fifteen meters isn't a problem. I theorize that the maximum this spell can go to is twenty or so meters of distance," Jinto explained.
Melissa pointed. "Look, not even that Vitus guy can split it. It seems we're all in the same boat."
Jinto and Paul looked to their left to see Vitus struggling. Unlike them, he was alone training. Due to him having an Amethyst Fissure, people felt that they weren't qualified and were even afraid to be close to him.
Unlike them, his face was darkened; one could see that he was truly training hard.
Jinto put all of this aside and casted. He was trying to hit the mannequin constantly on its neck. But the further he went, his aim became a weak point.
The Wind Blade hit the mannequin's knee.
Jinto felt frustrated, but he didn't let it show outwardly. He kept his composure.
He casted.
Again.
And again.
Jinto's shoulder was sore from all the casting. He was mentally fatigued, as traces of paleness could be seen on his skin.
All his efforts weren't in vain; he managed to reach fifteen meters of distance. His aim was constantly improving.
Paul yawned. "Let's go home."
Melissa's tired eyes looked into Jinto's. "Objections?"
"No, none at all. The sun is already starting to set anyway." Jinto shrugged as he smiled.
…
The next day,
Jinto awoke with a dull sensation in his shoulder. The constant casting from the two days prior had left him fatigued. Nonetheless, he continued forward.
The morning mist vanished as Jinto found himself on the training grounds once again.
An idea had occurred to him. Instead of casting repeatedly without much thought, he decided to take some time in his casting, fully grasping the steps and optimizing them.
Swoosh.
A crescent-like condensed wind flew out, hitting the mannequin's chest. This time, it had created a bigger dent than before. Jinto contained his joy, only nodding in satisfaction.
Jinto tried something different again. Instead of imagining a wide crescent shape, he visualized it as more compact and a little bit smaller.
Swoosh.
Cracking sounds rang out as pieces of black wood fell from the mannequin's stomach. Cracks formed from the stomach. To the side, one could see a catastrophic slash on the mannequin's stomach that was halfway through it.
"Although it isn't perfect, I am getting closer." Jinto rejoiced. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and took out a mana stone that had already started to lose its light.
He continued to cast until evening. His aim had gotten much better, managing to hit its neck consistently.
…
Next day.
Jinto panted. He looked towards the sky. The beautiful red light of the sunset shone upon the field. Some clouds obstructed the light, creating dark patches. Jinto gazed at the setting sky as he reviewed his performance thus far.
Out of ten times, he would hit the neck thrice. It was still far from perfect.
But what he still lacked was the power to fully and cleanly slice through the mannequin.
Paul cast his gaze: "Jinto, you've really outperformed. Based on the looks of this, you'll win this bet. Gent is nowhere to be seen."
"No, remember who he's buddy with. Olsen might have given him guidance as well. It is not a coincidence for him to not be here. Maybe he's training somewhere else, who knows." Melissa spoke up.
"Eh, maybe the guy is just lazy?" Paul cast his doubts.
Jinto shook his head: "Although he doesn't look like it, that guy's smart. By publicly not training and leaving us to do it in the open, putting our effort on display will only highlight his abilities if he wins. What if he just shows up during the test claiming that he didn't practice much and still beats me? Wouldn't I look too pitiful?"
Paul's eyebrows tightened: "I see the situation now."
Jinto continued: "Furthermore, the bet has no deadline. Even if I were to successfully do it, I would need to do it in front of Gent and witnesses. The bet doesn't end until either of us meets the other. The furthest it can go is until the test, where we would inevitably have to meet."
"He probably plans to humiliate you in front of the class, making everybody bear witness," Paul concluded.
"That would be that bastard's style." Melissa agreed.
"Anyways, let's go. The training ground is going to close soon." Paul clasped his hands and put them at the back of his neck.
…
Night shined across the room. Jinto lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, which was dimly lit by the reflecting moonlight from the window, casting its gentle shine over the bed.
His eyebrows were tightly knit. With the deadline for the bet approaching, he was growing anxious: "It has been five days since we last had class, only two days remain, and I still can't get the Wind Blade to cut." Jinto wanted to curse inwardly.
What bothered him the most was that Gent was not showing up to the training grounds, so he had no idea what his progress was at all. For Gent, all he had to do was inquire about Jinto and find out from peers.
"If I can't achieve it tomorrow, I'm afraid I'll only have to prepare for the worst." He gulped as he thought of being a servant for Gent. Thinking about such a scene made his face turn into one of disgust.
…
Moonlight dissipated as sunshine illuminated.
The sun's rays cast their splendor upon a certain house. The manor was extravagant, only those of certain finances could afford it. Made out of stone with tiled roofs, many chimneys protruded from it. At its center, a big courtyard could be seen, arranged modestly and elegantly. At its entrance, a beautiful garden was laid.
In the courtyard, two figures could be seen. One wore a ponytail, his features were soft, and the other had short brownish hair with sharp features, most prominently his squarish jawline, heavily contrasting the other person.
They were Gent and Olsen, respectively.
Gent crossed his arms as he cast a smile, staring at the training mannequin: "Brother Olsen, I have to admit it. Your guidance is truly valuable. Without you, I would've been spending my time flinging Wind Blades like an idiot."
Olsen listened as he leaned against a wooden pillar.
"It is only natural. Master Hector deliberately chose to leave out some details, tasking us to resolve them. Most would not be able to see through it. Not even that amethyst-ranked lad."
Gent chuckled: "He's still out there making dents. He won't be able to grasp the hidden details. He's probably frustrated by now, wondering why he can't cut it. What a pity, what a pity."
Olsen tilted his head: "Now you know why?"
Gent's lips curved up. He swung his arm, and from his hand, a crescent-shaped Wind Blade flew out.
Whoosh.
The Wind Blade shot forward. A sharp echo reverberated throughout the courtyard as the mannequin's torso split at an angle. The top piece slid off, hitting the ground with a thud.
"Intent, simply intent."
Olsen looked at him, satisfied. "Good, it seems you've listened."
"I owe you for this one. I would've been hard stuck if I had only kept what Master Hector said."
"No need, I dislike people struggling with the obvious."
Gent's eyebrow couldn't help but twitch when he heard such a comment. Wasn't that implying that he was a fool stuck on what seemed obvious? But again, being reminded of Olsen's status, he decided to let it go. Instead, he laughed it off.
"I want to see his face when I utterly defeat him. When he realizes that all the effort he put in was all for naught."
"Then don't disappoint me."