"What are you daydreaming for, boy?! Pick up your training sword—let Grandpa teach you a thing or two!"
Ares snapped out of his thoughts. He dashed toward the large tree at the edge of the field and pulled out his wooden sword from beneath its roots. It had become a habit—leaving it there after every session. No one would steal it. In a world where most commoners wielded Soul Weapons, what value did a plain wooden stick hold?
"Here," his grandfather called, pulling Ares' attention back.
The old man stood in the clearing with a wooden weapon of his own. But the moment Ares laid eyes on it, something felt… different.
A subtle shift stirred the air. Ares' eyes widened.
"Don't tell me…"
Before he could finish the thought, his grandfather's booming voice cut through the silence, as if plucking the words straight from his mind.
"Today's lesson is—Weapon Augmentation." A grin spread across the old man's face, eyes twinkling with excitement.
Ares lit up.
He had been begging for this lesson ever since he reached the second stage. But his grandfather had been unrelenting.
"You must first master the mana within your own body. Only then can you extend it outward," Ares recalled in a half-mocking tone.
But now—the moment had finally arrived.
Weapon Augmentation was the foundation of advanced mana manipulation. Simple in concept, yet essential to surpass the second stage of Novice Rank. It was the first step toward unlocking a Soul Weapon's Enchantment—the unique, soul-bound ability that could turn the tide of any battle.
Each enchantment was different, shaped by the wielder's very essence. Though Ares had yet to awaken a Soul Weapon, his desire to learn the technique burned brighter than ever. One day, he would forge a blade of his own—and when that day came, he'd be ready.
"Finally!" he shouted inwardly, eyes locked on his grandfather.
"Mana is stubborn," the old man began, his voice low and steady. "You cannot ask it to move—you must command it. Shape it with will. Guide it with clarity. Never fear its power."
As he spoke, the air thickened, pulsing with invisible energy.
Ares watched in awe as glowing blue specks—like dust lit by starlight—began to swirl around his grandfather's sword. They moved lazily at first, then gathered with purpose, forming a ribbon of light. The dull wood shimmered with a faint, ethereal glow. It no longer looked like a training weapon—it looked… alive.
No. It felt stronger than steel. The wooden blade radiated power.
Ares' eyes gleamed. He was completely entranced.
"Do not rush, Ares," his grandfather warned, noticing the spark in the boy's eyes. "Take your time. Feel every movement. Understand every shift."
Ares nodded, tightening his grip around the hilt of his sword.
He closed his eyes, focusing on the mana burning inside him. Slowly, deliberately, he willed it to his hand—a motion he had practiced many times.
Then, he pushed it outward—beyond his palm, into the sword's hilt.
Blue particles swirled around the base. His concentration sharpened as the mana crawled up the blade, defying gravity, wrapping around the weapon like smoke caught in a breeze. The glow condensed, hugging the shape of the sword.
Then—just as a triumphant grin spread across Ares' face—the wooden blade exploded in his hands.
Shards scattered around him. Ares paled.
Before he could even ask what happened, his grandfather's laughter boomed across the field.
"Ha ha ha! Not bad, boy—not bad at all. You've done well. But you forgot one very important detail..."
He paused, letting the silence linger.
Ares blinked, confused.
"Important detail?" he muttered, racking his brain.
"Wood is weak," the old man said with a chuckle. "Too much mana, and it splinters like dry leaves. Today, you learned something more valuable than success. Control is not just about movement—it's about measure."
Before Ares could respond, a voice called out from the hill.
A young man sprinted toward them, breath ragged, eyes wide.
"Mister Ravenwood!" he shouted between gasps. "Your son has returned—you must come to the inn!"
At the word son, the old man's expression changed.
"Come, boy!" he said, already moving.
Ares hesitated for a moment.
"Father returned? But… why the inn?"
The thought unsettled him, but he pushed it aside and followed.
*****
Inside the inn, in a dimly lit room, a man lay on a narrow bed.
Bandages wrapped his body—torso, limbs, face—leaving only one eye and his mouth exposed. His breath came in shallow gasps, each one rattling with pain.
Beside him sat a woman, silent tears streaming down her face.
Ares stopped in the doorway, his breath caught in his throat.
It was the first time he had seen his mother cry.
His gaze shifted to the bed—and the broken figure lying upon it.
"Father!"
He rushed forward, grabbing his father's arm.
"S…Son…" the man whispered, a weak smile playing on his lips.
Seeing the two together only made his mother cry harder. Her quiet sobs became weeping.
"What happened?!" Ares cried.
The answer came from a corner of the room.
A soldier, young and battered, his silver armour cracked and burned, stepped forward.
"We were ambushed by a guild of assassins on our way back," he said, voice heavy.
"If not for your father… none of us would've made it."
Ares turned back to his father.
"Why?"
His fists clenched. "Why would he risk everything when he has a family to come back to?"
Silence fell. Then—his father's rasp broke through.
"T…take…c-care…of…your…mother…"
His one eye locked onto Ares.
Then—it closed.
His chest rose once, then it fell slowly.
It did not rise again.
His father was gone.
His mother wailed, clinging to his lifeless hand. His grandfather tried to console her, but his own eyes brimmed with tears.
Ares stood frozen, disbelief painted across his face.
Then—his vision blurred.
A glowing message appeared before him:
*****
[ Requirement met. ]
[ Extract Soul Weapon? ]
[ Yes ] [ No ]
*****
"W-What?" he whispered.
Without thinking, his gaze locked onto the text that said 'Yes'.
The moment it did, a jolt of energy surged through his body. Mana flared, searing through his body. His breath caught as pain and power collided.
"Ares?!" his mother called out, her voice muffled by sobs.
*****
[ Extraction Complete! ]
*****
The words echoed in his mind.
Ares' eyes rolled back—and his body collapsed to the floor.