[Uzziel Household - Backyard]
The backyard wasn't exactly a training ground, but it was the best we had.
A clothesline sagged between two gnarled apple trees, and Mom's flowerbeds looked like they might become collateral damage.
Still, the grass was soft underfoot, and the sun wasn't too harsh.
"This okay?"
Ezekiel asked, already shedding his cloak to reveal simpler, middle-class clothing.
The sight of it sent a jolt through me.
I knew from the novel that this was a common tactic for undercover royals, but seeing it in person made the whole situation feel even more surreal.
"Yeah,"
I mumbled, trying to hide my nervousness.
I hadn't lied about the elder watching me – they did – but it was more out of concern for my safety than anything else.
Now, facing off against a literal prince, I wondered if they had a point.
"Remember," Mr. Nivel chimed in, his voice a soothing balm in the tension, "this is just a friendly spar. No hard feelings, no matter the outcome."
He was right, of course. But the stakes felt high.
Not just the 1000 SP dangled in front of me, but the whole damn future of this world.
What if I mess things up even more by winning? I thought, a cold sweat breaking out on my skin.
Ezekiel, oblivious to my inner turmoil, assumed a fighting stance, his hands glowing with a faint blue light.
"Ready when you are, Julian."
I swallowed, my heart pounding in my chest. Deep breaths. You've read the books. You know what to expect.
***
"Fight!"
In a blur, Ezekiel vanished, his body propelled forward by the mana coursing through his legs.
He twisted mid-air, a low murmur escaping his lips, "Guided by the winds, give the grace held by the breeze."
His hands glowed with a spiralling green energy as he channelled his wind magic.
"Gale Fist!"
The world narrowed, not just to Ezekiel's attack, but to the very trajectory it would take.
Before Julian's eyes, a series of afterimages flickered, ghosting out the path of Ezekiel's movements before the blow even landed.
He saw the feint with his left hand, the follow-through with a wind-infused right – a textbook move, straight from the training manuals of the Ventus Kingdom.
WHOOOSH!
The wind-infused fist tore through the space where Julian's head had been a split second before.
Ezekiel's eyes widened in surprise as Julian, with a small step back and a tilt of his head, effortlessly evaded the Gale Fist.
The unleashed wind denied its target, and continued its destructive path, gouging two deep furrows in the trunks of nearby trees.
Ezekiel was momentarily stunned and found himself face-to-face with Julian.
His eyes blazed with an intensity that defied his young age.
huuu...
With a focused breath and stern expression, Julian's right hand glowed faintly with unrefined mana and curled it into a fist.
Ezekiel barely had time to register what he was doing, before Julian unleashed his counterattack without warning.
BAM!
A pure explosion of mana erupted from Julian's fist.
It was a punch that lacked technique, but the result was an unrestrained force.
The air itself seemed to shatter under the impact, and the very ground beneath them trembled.
A shockwave rippled through the air, blasting a path through the forest behind Ezekiel, leaving a clear line of separation where the attack had torn through the vegetation.
Then, just as suddenly as the attack was released, the spar was over.
Mr. Nivel stood between them, his hand gently restraining Julian's arm.
"That will be enough, Julian. You win."
His smile was warm, but Julian sensed a feeling of something else–awe, perhaps, or even a fear.
Ezekiel sat on the ground, stunned.
He had seen firsthand the speed with which Julian reacted, a feat even mid-grade soldiers struggled with.
And that final attack... Julian, a year younger, had unleashed a power that dwarfed Ezekiel's own wind magic.
He hadn't even used a proper technique, relying solely on his innate mana control and physical ability.
It was an astonishing display of natural talent.
*
For a moment the grounds were silent, broken only by the rustling leaves and the distant chirping of birds.
Ezekiel slowly rose to his feet, brushing off the dirt from his clothes.
A wry smile tugged at his lips as he met Julian's gaze.
"Well," he said, his voice surprisingly light, "that was certainly unexpected."
Julian, still slightly breathless from the adrenaline rush, shrugged. "I guess I got lucky."
But Ezekiel shook his head.
"If you did, then I don't even know what to say..." He paused, studying Julian with respect.
"I've never seen anything like it."
Mr. Nivel, who had been watching the exchange with a quiet intensity, muttered to himself, "Astonishing... Julian... someone like him actually exists?"
The last part was barely audible, but a flicker of surprise crossed Ezekiel's face nonetheless.
He knew his caretaker to be a man of few words, especially when it came to praise.
This acknowledgment from Corsan was high praise indeed.
Corsan's eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze fixed on Julian.
The boy's nonchalant demeanour and the almost accidental way he had evaded and countered Ezekiel's attacks piqued his interest.
It was as if Julian didn't even realize the extent of his own power, as if he had stumbled upon his victory through sheer instinct.
Corsan had witnessed many child prodigies in his time, but very few had displayed such talent without any formal training.
Julian's movements were unrefined, almost sloppy, yet devastatingly effective.
A question arose in Corsan's mind: Could this unassuming village boy be the one who could surpass even the legendary Saint Alonso?
He turned to Julian only to see that the child was picking his nose, oblivious to the world around him.
Corsan could only sigh, realizing it was too early to tell.
After all, he was just a child.
"You have a long road ahead of you, young one," Corsan said, turning back to Julian.
"But with the right guidance and training, you could become a great mage."
He paused, looking directly into Julian's eyes.
"Perhaps even one day, attend Aethel Academy alongside Ezekiel."
Julian's eyes widened.
Aethel Academy? The most prestigious magical institution in the world?
It was a dream that seemed impossibly distant but suddenly felt within reach.
Ezekiel clapped a hand on Julian's shoulder, a wide grin spreading across his face.
"Yeah! If there's a lot of strong people on this continent, there'd surely be more people like Julian, right, Corsan... um, Mr. Nivel?"
Corsan could only shake his head in amusement, realizing that Ezekiel's standards had skyrocketed after sparring with Julian.