For the past year, Lucius had pushed his body and mind to the absolute limit.
Under Commander Darius's relentless training, he had refined his swordsmanship to an impressive level. From a weak, frail noble child, he had risen to the Adept Rank—a level that most noble children only reached in their mid-teens.
But his progress came with a cost.
His dream of mastering both swordsmanship and magic had proven to be far more difficult than expected. While his sword skills flourished, his progress in forming his Third Mana Circle stalled.
"I can feel the mana inside me, but I can't stabilize it while focusing on my swordsmanship. Balancing the two… it's harder than I expected."
Unlike most nobles, who prioritized either swordsmanship or magic, Lucius was determined to master both. Yet, as the months passed, he found himself struggling to maintain equilibrium.
However, his tenacity had not gone unnoticed.
From the shadows, Marshal Reynard Ardentis had been observing his progress. Unlike others, who dismissed Lucius as a weakling struggling to catch up, the Marshal saw something different.
"If he continues like this… he may reach a realm beyond what any of us imagined."
The yearly Academy Tournament Selections were fast approaching.
This was an event where the top 30 noble children (ages 10 and above) from Ardentis Territory were chosen to represent their land and compete for entry into the Empire's Academy.
But Lucius wasn't old enough to participate.
That morning, when he arrived at the training grounds, he noticed an unusual tension in the air.
The tournament candidates—nobles trained since childhood—were all gathered. Their gazes flickered toward him, some filled with curiosity, others with thinly veiled disdain.
Commander Darius stood at the center, arms crossed, surveying the young warriors with a knowing smirk.
"Today, we will conduct a test."
Lucius furrowed his brows. A test?
Darius's sharp eyes landed on him.
"Lucius. Step forward."
Murmurs erupted among the gathered nobles.
"Lucius? That sickly noble boy?"
"Why is he even being considered?"
"He's improved, sure, but is he on our level?"
Lucius ignored them and stepped forward. His golden eyes locked onto Darius's without hesitation.
The Commander smirked. "It's time we see how much you've grown."
Turning to the gathered nobles, Darius scanned them before settling on a red-haired boy with a confident smirk.
"Your opponent will be Cedric Hale."
The tension in the air shifted.
Cedric Hale was one of the strongest tournament candidates. At 9 years old, he was already Advanced Adept Rank and had been trained by his father—a famed knight of Ardentis Territory.
He was fast, aggressive, and brutal in combat. Cedric rolled his shoulders, a smug grin spreading across his face. "Didn't think I'd get to spar with you, Lucius."
Lucius said nothing.
He had watched Cedric train before. His fighting style was relentless—overwhelming opponents with pure speed and aggression.
At the back of the training ground,
Marshal Reynard finally spoke.
His deep, commanding voice silenced the crowd. "Do not hold back"
This is to determine where Lucius truly stands.
Lucius took a slow breath and gripped his sword.
This is it.
The training ground fell silent as the two boys stepped forward.
Darius raised his hand. "Begin."
Cedric moved first.
His sword became a blur as he lunged forward at terrifying speed.
CLANG!
Lucius barely managed to block, his arms shaking from the sheer force of the strike.
But Cedric didn't stop. He twisted his body mid-air and brought his sword down in a brutal arc.
Lucius ducked.
The blade whistled past his ear, cutting through the air where his skull had been a moment before.
He's fast.
Faster than anyone Lucius had fought before.
Cedric pressed forward, his sword flashing as he unleashed a relentless barrage of attacks.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
Each strike pushed Lucius back.
"Come on, fight back!" Cedric sneered, increasing his tempo.
Lucius narrowed his eyes. He could feel his body struggling to keep up.
But he had trained for this.
He focused. He observed.
Cedric's attacks followed a pattern.
A rapid series of slashes, then a half-second pause before shifting his weight for the next barrage.
Lucius smirked.
"Predictable."
The next time Cedric lunged, Lucius sidestepped—just barely dodging the strike.
Then, he struck.
BAM!
His fist crashed into Cedric's stomach, knocking the wind out of him. The crowd gasped.
Cedric stumbled back, his face twisting in anger. "Tch… lucky hit." Lucius didn't respond.'
Instead, he raised his sword, his golden eyes burning with an unshakable resolve.
Cedric roared and charged forward once more. Lucius didn't move.
He waited. At the last second, he sidestepped—again. But this time, he countered.
His wooden sword slammed into Cedric's wrist with pinpoint precision. Cedric's sword flew from his hands.
It hit the ground with a dull thud.
Lucius raised his blade and pointed it at Cedric's chest.
Silence.
Then—
"Enough."
Darius's voice rang through the training ground.
The gathered nobles stared in shock.
Lucius had just defeated one of the strongest tournament representatives.
But more importantly—he wasn't even supposed to be competing.
This was merely a test arranged by Commander Darius. No one—not even the Commander or Marshal Reynard—had expected him to win. Lucius wasn't just strong. He was extraordinary.
Darius walked toward Lucius, his sharp eyes gleaming with something close to approval.
"Not bad," he muttered.
But Marshal Reynard's expression was different.
The usually reserved Marshal narrowed his eyes, his mind deep in thought.
For the first time, he saw it—Lucius had the potential to be more than just a warrior.
A rare talent.
A potential legend.
"He's more than just 'not bad'…" Reynard thought.
For the first time, he considered something that he never expected—
"I will teach him the Ardentis Family's Secret Technique."
This wasn't just a simple sparring match.
This was Lucius's first true acknowledgment.
Not as a weak noble.
Not as a boy struggling to catch up.
But as a warrior who was destined for greatness.