"This... this is torture," Cecilia gasped, her cheeks flushed, sweat trailing down her face. Nearby, Rachel had simply collapsed on the ground, utterly spent, while even I felt the toll. Climbing a hill like that ten times over without any mana was no easy feat, not even for someone like me.
For most, this sort of physical trial would only be manageable through relentless daily practice or the enhanced stamina that comes with reaching Ascendant rank and undergoing the body's metamorphosis.
"Now," Seol-ah announced, hardly breaking a sweat herself, "we'll move on to mana training." She turned toward us with a slight smile. "The Eastern continent may be a bit behind in advanced spellcasting, but we place no less value on it."
In the early days, when mana first appeared and the Eastern continent still held itself isolated, they had hardly any mages. Instead, mana was wielded to amplify physical strength, a practice they called "qi," giving rise to what the world now knows as martial artists.
But with exposure to the rest of the world came the gradual realization of magic's significance. Although martial artists remained the dominant force here, the need for spellcasters grew, and now the East boasts a respectable number of them—though warriors and martial artists still hold the greatest positions of power.
For example, even someone like Aria Gu, who wields powerful fire magic, doesn't rely on the Western circle method of spellcasting. The Gu family's fire arts follow the aura method, integrating martial skill with elemental power rather than pure spellcraft.
The Eastern tendency toward single-element specialization makes sense of this distinction. Warriors thrive here, while mages, though fewer in number, possess deeply honed, divergent skillset. Take Class A at Mythos Academy: only two out of eight are pure mages. And of the ten Radiant-rankers who sit at the pinnacle of the world, only three are mages—the rest are fighters, a testament to the power of specialized mastery.
"Valen will handle that soon enough," I mused, recalling the events of the novel. It was one less worry for me.
With that, we each delved into our training, focusing on our unique strengths. Rachel and Cecilia devoted themselves entirely to spellcasting, while Seraphina and Ian channeled their energy purely into aura. Lucifer and I, masters of both, balanced our practice between the two.
Seol-ah's golden gaze flickered over my sword as I practiced my Grade 5 art. Even within that level, there were subtle yet vast distinctions. The Moyong family's Grade 5 art was leagues beyond the one Mythos Academy provided. Refined and honed through generations, the Moyong art was at the pinnacle of Grade 5 and poised to transcend it once Seol-ah advanced it to Grade 6, as she was destined to in the future.
'Is she aiming for Grade 6 now?' I wondered. Knowledge of Grade 6 arts was a closely held secret, accessible only to the elite, but Seol-ah's heritage granted her that rare insight. She studied everyone's swordsmanship intently, observing and dissecting movements as her gaze shifted between those of us wielding Grade 5 arts and those with Grade 6 mastery. She was, without a doubt, searching for the bridge to that next level.
I knew I could offer guidance there.
Turning my attention to the training dummy—a marvel of advanced craftsmanship, inscribed with powerful runes and forged from rare metals—it stood resilient, impervious to most attacks. Only an astral blade could hope to break it. With my sword poised, I took a steadying breath, recalling memories buried deep.
The hollow ache of hunger.
The helplessness of wanting, yet unable to have.
The slow, agonizing breakdown of my own strength.
Those relentless days of starvation, the raw desperation—they all flooded back, a tidal wave of feeling channeled into my blade, each layer of enhanced aura infused with Lucent Harmony, melding emotion with power.
With a final breath, I released it all.
I swung my sword with intent.
The second movement of my Grade 6 art: Hollow Eclipse.
Hollow Eclipse worked by weaving two main layers of enhanced aura over my blade, carefully crafted from four of the eleven elements. The remaining six elements were veiled in dark aura, forming shadowy voids between those two layers, casting the impression of an eclipse—an eclipse that was not full but, rather, hollow.
In the world of magic, imagination could shape reality, and this visual echo of an eclipse held its own power.
In my duel with Art, I'd recognized my limitations. I had God Flash, an exceptionally fast technique, but its strength was lacking. Fighters like Drake could counter it without much difficulty; it was swift, yes, but not potent enough.
So I conceived Hollow Eclipse as a complement to God Flash, a counterbalance. Where God Flash was sheer speed, Hollow Eclipse was raw, unrestrained power. Although not as swift as God Flash, it still retained impressive speed while wielding a force far beyond.
Now I could let God Flash keep its blitzing speed without sacrificing power. Hollow Eclipse was my answer when the situation called for overwhelming strength.
With a swing of my blade, I released the technique, and the training dummy before me crumbled to dust. The sheer magnitude of the attack underscored the power of martial arts—to amplify one's strikes beyond ordinary limits. Without Hollow Eclipse, even a multi-layered aura wouldn't have made a dent in that high-grade dummy.
Yet here it lay in fragments, testament to a single, decisive blow.
"Channel the essence of your art," I whispered to Seol-ah, my voice laced with mana so only she would hear.
Her eyes widened as she absorbed my words, then gave a slow nod, understanding dawning in her gaze.
Jin approached, shaking his head as he looked at the obliterated remains of the training dummy. "You've truly become a monster, you know that?" he said, his eyes narrowed with a mixture of amazement and apprehension.
"It's not nearly enough," I replied, dismissing the notion as if what I'd done was only a fraction of what I sought to achieve.
Jin studied me for a moment in silence. He, too, had grown; reaching Integration-rank was no small feat, even if he had yet to reach the level of Resonance. But he could sense that the gap between us had only grown wider, each step I took pushing me further into uncharted territory.
"You must keep pushing yourself, Jin," I said with a smile. If he was to be of use in what lay ahead, he'd need to grow far stronger, strong enough to one day surpass his father.
Just then, Seol-ah's voice echoed across the training ground. "Training's done for today," she announced, her gaze sweeping over the students. "We'll continue this regimen for a few more days before moving on to missions."
A murmur spread through the group, a mixture of relief and anticipation. For many of the students, the prospect of practical missions was thrilling, a step closer to real-world experience. But we all knew that in the Eastern continent, missions meant facing true danger. This wasn't just a test of skill; it was a test of survival.
As we gathered our gear and prepared to leave, I noticed the glances exchanged among the other students. They were watching me, assessing. The year I'd spent training away from Mythos Academy had left its mark, and my strength didn't go unnoticed.
"Arthur," Jin spoke up, falling into step beside me as we walked. "These missions—they're different here, aren't they?"
I nodded. "Starcrest doesn't shelter its students. Missions are meant to test us in ways even Mythos hasn't. Prepare yourself."
Jin gave a slow nod, determination glinting in his eyes. "Then I'll give it everything."
As the sun dipped behind the mountains, casting long shadows over the academy, I felt a thrill run through me. This exchange program was only beginning, and I intended to make the most of it.