After the tense meeting with Melius at the Dragon Tooth Inn, the grizzled swordsman began accompanying Silas and Lucas to the outskirts of Almera for daily training sessions. The city, though filled with intrigue and danger, was not the place for Lucas to learn the arts he needed to survive in the harsh Magus World.
Melius, despite his age and missing arm, was a formidable figure. He wielded his great sword, Honeyblood, with remarkable ease, its edge gleaming menacingly in the early morning light. Lucas had always found the sword's name a little odd, but he'd never dared ask for its meaning. Something about the way Melius carried it—almost reverently—made Lucas hesitate. There were stories there, buried beneath the gruff exterior, but Melius wasn't the kind of man who offered answers easily.
One morning, while they paused at a secluded field, Lucas felt a surge of curiosity. Silently, he summoned his AI.
"AI, display Melius's stats."
The AI beeped, and moments later, the information appeared before Lucas's eyes.
[Melius - Strength: 2.8 | Agility: 2.5 | Vitality: 1.6 | Aura: 104 | State: Aura Adept → Blade of the Ember]
Lucas stared in disbelief. Strength and agility almost three times higher than a normal human... but his vitality is lower. It wasn't just impressive—it was otherworldly. He had learned that most humans didn't possess Aura, the mysterious force that Melius wielded like a second skin. The swordsman's power came not from mana, but from Aura, a raw, physical energy that could enhance the body, imbuing it with incredible strength and speed. Aura could even be projected through the blade, slashing at enemies from a distance like an invisible knife.
Melius wasn't just powerful—he was a force of nature.
"The Aura… so that's what makes him so strong," Lucas muttered to himself. "But why is his vitality so low compared to the rest?"
It was clear that, while Melius's strength and agility were unparalleled, his body had suffered from years of battle. No wonder, with all the scars he bears—and losing an arm. Even Aura can't protect him from everything.
As Lucas processed this new information, he also realized that Aura and mana were entirely different powers. The two forces didn't mix. Aura flowed like water, bending and shaping to the will of a knight, while Mana was like fire—wild and forceful.
One day, after hours of tempering his mana, Lucas approached Melius as they stood under the shade of a large oak tree. "Melius," Lucas began, wiping the sweat from his brow, "can you teach me swordsmanship? And Aura, if it's possible?"
Melius, who was sharpening Honeyblood with slow, deliberate strokes, let out a deep, rumbling laugh. "Teach you, boy? I'm no teacher or babysitter." He shook his head, his one arm still easily handling the massive blade. "Your grandpa paid me to protect you, not to train you. Besides, you should focus on your magic tricks first."
"But..." Lucas hesitated, then glanced at Silas, who had been watching from a short distance. "What if I learn both?"
The laughter stopped. Melius's face hardened as he sheathed his sword, his eyes narrowing at the boy. "Both? Mana and Aura don't mix, kid. Never have. They're like fire and water—opposites. I've only heard of people trying to master both in legends. They say it always ends in failure."
Lucas turned his gaze to Silas, searching for a sign of encouragement. Silas, however, merely nodded. "He's right, Lucas. No one's ever been able to control both powers. Magic and Aura require entirely different disciplines. But," Silas added, his tone softening, "you can still learn basic swordsmanship. It's good for self-defense, even if you never master Aura."
Melius interrupted, his voice gruff. "I said I won't teach the boy."
Silas smiled knowingly. "We'll see about that."
For the first time in his life, Lucas saw a grown man—Melius, the battle-scarred, one-armed swordsman—pout like a child. He's strong as an ox but sulks like a boy who lost his toy.
Few following days, Lucas continued his mana tempering training.
Silas had introduced him to some basic spells, what they referred to as "level zero" spells in the Magus World—simple but essential for any novice mage with Earth and Water affinities.
Earth Affinity Spells:
Pebble Shot – Silas levitated small rocks and pebbles, propelling them with moderate force.
Effect: Causes minor bruises or distractions.
Mana Cost: 1-2 mana.
Soil Shift – With a simple gesture, Silas could soften or compact a small area of soil, creating minor obstacles.
Effect: Manipulates terrain up to a square meter.
Mana Cost: Minimal.
Stone Skin – Summoning the earth, Silas hardened his skin briefly, giving him protection against minor attacks.
Effect: Absorbs light damage for a few seconds.
Mana Cost: 2-3 mana.
Dust Veil – A swirl of dust appeared around Silas, blinding anyone caught within the 5-meter radius.
Effect: Obscures vision for a few minutes.
Mana Cost: Minimal.
Water Affinity Spells:
Dew Touch – Summoning moisture from the air, Silas could produce a small amount of water on his hands.
Effect: Useful for cleaning or hydrating.
Mana Cost: Minimal.
Water Whip – With a flick of his wrist, Silas could manipulate a thin stream of water like a whip, lashing at targets.
Effect: Disrupts footing or causes stinging pain.
Mana Cost: 2-3 mana.
Mud Pool – By mixing earth and water, Silas turned the ground into a slippery, muddy trap.
Effect: Causes targets to slip.
Mana Cost: 2-4 mana.
Mist Shroud – Summoning a thin veil of mist, Silas could obscure himself or nearby objects.
Effect: Covers a small area in mist (3 meters).
Mana Cost: Minimal.
Combined Earth & Water Spells:
Mud Ball – Silas hurled a ball of sticky mud at his target, blinding or slowing them momentarily.
Effect: Temporary blindness or hindrance.
Mana Cost: Minimal.
Clay Bind – With a wave of his hand, the ground transformed into sticky clay, ensnaring the feet of his enemies.
Effect: Binds a target's feet for up to 10 seconds.
Mana Cost: 3-5 mana.
Over the days, Lucas diligently copied all the rune circles for these spells. He tasked the AI to analyze the spell structures and identify any commonalities. It beeped back its response:
AI Task: Spell Rune Analysis – Estimated Time: 3 days.
As Lucas progressed with his training, Melius introduced him to the basics of swordsmanship. One morning, the grizzled swordsman presented Lucas with a dull iron sword.
"This is for you, boy," Melius said, his one arm steady as he handed Lucas the blade. "Remember, you asked for this."
He demonstrated basic stances, strikes, and parries, his movements fluid despite his missing hand. Lucas, eager to learn, watched closely. As Melius practiced, Lucas whispered, "AI, record everything."
Beep.
The AI captured every detail of Melius's stance and swordplay, creating a visual guide in Lucas's mind. When it was Lucas's turn, he felt confident.
"AI, guide me."
Lines of light appeared in his vision—blue outlines showing him the correct positions for his arms, feet, and sword. Lucas started mimicking the moves, his body stiff but determined. However, what he knew intellectually was far different from executing it in reality. His limbs began to falter, his strikes growing sloppy, his energy draining rapidly.
Melius chuckled deeply. "Swordsmanship is a lot harder than your magic tricks, huh?" He watched Lucas with a wry grin, clearly amused by the boy's exhaustion.
Lucas wanted to argue, but he was too winded to respond. His chest heaved as sweat poured down his face.
"You magic-users are sly foxes," Melius teased. "I could take all of you down if you fought with honor, like real men."
Silas, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke up. "Says the man who strengthens his body with Aura and sharpens his blade with it, too. Don't talk about 'honor' when you wield it so freely."
Both men burst into laughter, their shared history softening the tension. But Lucas, drained and frustrated, collapsed onto the ground. He caught a glimpse of Melius sitting beneath a nearby tree, meditating. Curious, Lucas whispered again to the AI.
"AI, analyze Melius's meditation."
Beep.
Analyzing…
Observation complete. Melius is practicing Aura Tempering, a process similar to Mana Tempering. The energy source is focused near the navel, where the Aura Core resides.
"Aura Core?" Lucas thought, his curiosity piqued. "Do I have one?"
Beep.
Scanning… No Aura Core detected in host's body.
The answer left Lucas dumbfounded. How did one acquire an Aura Core? Was it something like a mana seed?
He shook his head and resumed his Mana Tempering. The next few days passed in the same routine—sword training, Mana Tempering, and learning spells from Silas. Finally, after three long days, the AI beeped once again.
Beep.
Rune Analysis Complete: 8% understanding achieved. Further data required for deeper analysis.
Lucas groaned in frustration. Three days, and he was only at 8%? Rune circles were far more complex than he had initially thought.
Despite this, his training was showing results. Lucas's mana capacity had nearly doubled, and his physical attributes were slowly improving as well. The AI displayed his updated stats:
Beep.
[Lucas (Age: 7) – Strength: 0.34 | Agility: 0.45 | Vitality: 0.37 | Mana: 2.3 | State: Post-Awakening]
The mana tempering had given him a significant boost. His swordsmanship was improving as well, albeit slowly. Melius, who had been silently observing his progress, was clearly impressed.
"I have to admit," Melius muttered one afternoon as they trained, "You're picking this up faster than I thought. If you weren't on the Magus path, you'd make a damn fine Aura Swordsman. Maybe one of the best this world has ever seen."
Lucas, though proud of his progress, was torn. The path of the Magus had been chosen for him, and he was determined to walk it. Yet, the allure of Aura, the strength it granted, tempted him more than he was willing to admit. Still, he pushed on with his mana training, but the seed of doubt had been planted. Could he master both?
In the past few days, Melius had surprisingly softened toward Lucas. The mocking tone and sharp remarks were still there, but underneath them was a growing sense of care. It puzzled the grizzled swordsman. Am I getting soft? he wondered. So this is how Silas feels.
As Melius trained Lucas in swordsmanship, his thoughts drifted to a time when he had considered family. If life had taken a different path, perhaps he too would have had grandchildren. He chuckled inwardly at the thought.
Suddenly, a sweet voice pulled him out of his reverie. "Sir Melius, I have some questions."
Lucas's polite tone made Melius show a playfully exhausted expression, though a small smile tugged at his lips. "Tell me, my little Great Magus. How can this lowly Aura Knight serve you?" His words dripped with sarcasm, but the boy was used to Melius's antics by now.
Lucas smiled but kept his tone serious. "I can't feel any Aura inside me. Is someone born with it, like mana?"
The question caught Melius off guard. He blinked, then scratched his chin thoughtfully. "No... no one is born with Aura, boy. It's nothing like a mana seed." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "Aura is... different. It's a living energy, and it can only be sparked inside someone by another who already possesses it."
Melius shifted his position, the weight of his words sinking in. "But there's a cost. Whoever ignites the Aura spark in someone else loses a part of their own Aura—not all of it, but enough to set them back. The only people who would willingly do this are either old men who have given up cultivation... or kind-hearted fools."
Lucas's eyes widened at this revelation. "So any normal person can become an Aura Knight if someone ignites the Aura spark within them?"
Melius nodded slowly. "In theory, yes. But it's not that simple, boy. Aura isn't like mana—it's a living, breathing force, and it can't be passed lightly."
Suddenly, an idea formed in Lucas's mind—a bold one. He smiled sweetly, his voice almost too innocent. "Sir Melius... could you ignite the Aura spark inside me?"
Melius had just taken a hearty swig of ale, and upon hearing Lucas's request, he choked and spluttered, nearly spraying the drink everywhere. "Hell no, kid!" Melius barked, wiping his mouth. "You think I'm that dumb? If I agreed to that, I'd lose a part of my own Aura. And how are you supposed to use it with mana? That's insanity!"
"But I have a plan!" Lucas insisted, his eyes gleaming with determination.
Melius's face darkened. "A plan, you say? You'll 'try,' huh?" He leaned closer, his voice dropping dangerously low. "You're crazier than your old fart of a grandfather."
"Please," Lucas begged.
Melius huffed, clearly annoyed. "A 'please' won't cut it, kid. You have no idea what you're asking."
The grizzled swordsman couldn't believe the nerve of the boy. To him, Aura wasn't something easily given—he had fought for years to earn it. His captain had bestowed it upon him as a mark of war glory, and now this little brat was asking for it like it was a piece of candy.
For the next 20 days, the routine was the same. Each morning, they would ride out of Almera for training—Lucas would train in swordsmanship and mana tempering, and each day, on the way back, Lucas would pester Melius about igniting his Aura spark.
Initially, Silas would step in, explaining why it was a bad idea. But after Lucas's persistence, even Silas gave up. Melius, on the other hand, was becoming more and more miserable. Each morning, when he saw Lucas's innocent grin, his heart sank with dread.
Finally, on the 21st day, Melius snapped. "Kid, you're driving me insane!" he growled. "I can't take it anymore!"
Over the past weeks, Melius had grown closer to Lucas. The boy's swordsmanship was coming along faster than expected—his form was starting to look seasoned, his strikes sharper. In truth, Melius had wanted to ignite Lucas's Aura spark but had been holding back out of concern for the boy's well-being. After discussing it with Silas, he finally made his decision.
"If Lucas says he has a way to do it, there's a chance he might succeed," Silas had said. "But it's up to you, Melius. I don't want you to lose any part of your Aura unless you feel it's right."
Melius grumbled. "Why wouldn't I give that brat anything? He's been driving me mad with those puppy eyes and smug little grin! I care about my well-being, Silas! Not him!" He tried to sound tough, but both he and Silas knew the truth.
Later that day, after training, Lucas approached Melius with the same innocent voice. "Sir Melius, could you please ignite the Aura spark inside me?"
Lucas expected Melius to lash out, but instead, the old swordsman gave a resigned sigh and muttered, "Yes."
Lucas blinked, shocked. "What... what did you say?"
"I said yes, you damn kid!" Melius barked, visibly exasperated. "But after this, leave me the hell alone!"
A few moments later, Lucas sat shirtless, cross-legged on the ground, while Melius, sweating slightly, placed his only hand on Lucas's stomach. Silas stood off to the side, his cane in hand, watching silently.
Melius concentrated, and soon, Lucas felt a cool shiver run through his body. The AI immediately sounded an alarm.
Beep.
Foreign energy detected. Aura presence invading host's body. Repelling with mana.
Lucas quickly silenced the AI. "Lower all defenses. Let it in."
For several long minutes, nothing happened. Then, slowly, Lucas felt it—a new energy, calm and powerful, swirling within him like the steady tides of the ocean. It was vastly different from the raging inferno of mana. Aura felt controlled, purposeful.
He opened his eyes gradually and saw Melius sweating profusely.
"AI, scan Melius," Lucas thought.
Beep.
Scan complete. Here are the updated stats for Melius:
[Melius - Strength: 2.8 | Agility: 2.5 | Vitality: 1.6 | Aura: 84 | State: Aura Adept → Blade of the Ember]
Beep.
Analysis: Permanent drop of 20 Aura points detected.
Lucas's heart sank. He had expected a drop in Melius's Aura but not this much. Why had Melius done this? Lucas knew, deep down, there was only one reason—because Melius had started to care about him.
"Are you alright, sir?" Lucas asked, concern etched in his young face.
Melius, catching his breath, chuckled. "I'll be fine, kid. But you better make good on your promise, or I'll whoop your ass."
Lucas nodded firmly. "I will, sir. I promise."
But then, Lucas hesitated and corrected himself. "No... uncle Melius."
Melius, visibly uncomfortable with the title, huffed but couldn't hide a small smile. "Don't say that. It's 'sir' to you."
Lucas, with his puppy-dog eyes, grinned. "But I thought you liked it."
Melius, closing one eye as if in pain, muttered under his breath, "Do as you please, kid."
"Yes, uncle Melius," Lucas responded cheerfully.
And so, the bond between them, once forged out of reluctant obligation, solidified into something stronger—something like family.