I knew life at the academy wasn't going to be a walk in the park—or in my case, a casual sprint to glory. So, I whipped up a rigorous routine to stay ahead of the game. Training was the name of this never-ending grind, and I hoped it would eventually turn me into something less... average. Physical training? Sure, I'm all in. But I couldn't exactly ignore magical practice either.
Yeah, I've got exactly one spell in my magical arsenal, but hey, with enough grinding, I might expand my very limited repertoire. The real problem? My mana core. As a two-star mage, my storage capacity is basically a glorified cup of water in an ocean of magic. If I want to wield my mana sword longer than a sneeze, I need that core to grow. Bigger core, bigger spells, bigger me—it's the dream, really.
But instead of getting lost in the "woe-is-my-mana" spiral, I figured it was time to hit the training ground. Now, stepping into the S Rank training ground? Let me tell you, it's like walking into a magical sweatshop of ambition. Almost as glorious as my breakfast spread back home. Almost.
The place was massive. Picture a soccer field but make it a gym on steroids. Equipment everywhere, divided into zones for physical and magical training, plus a running track for those insane enough to care about stamina. The glass roof above was trying its best to turn us all into shiny, muscular gladiators by drowning us in sunlight.
"Jogging it is," I muttered to myself, starting with something that wouldn't kill me right off the bat. Thirty minutes in and I was still cruising—thanks to the training I did before this whole academy business. My endurance stats still needed serious help, but hey, small victories.
An hour later, I decided it was time to kick things up a notch. That's when I spotted Claire and Zephyr on the track, both looking like they were sculpted out of pure determination. Or maybe I was just envious of how freakishly fit they both were. Either way, I wasn't about to embarrass myself in front of them.
Next up: weightlifting. I spotted a rack of swords—because clearly, we're training to be magical knights and not, you know, students. Each sword looked like it weighed more than my entire academic workload. I picked up a 10 kg sword and swung it around like it was a glorified toothpick. "Seriously? Who's this for? Babies?" I laughed, feeling cocky.
Then I went for the 50 kg sword. "And this," I groaned, barely keeping my grip, "was a mistake." My arm was ready to give out, and I was two seconds away from being pancaked by a piece of metal. Classic me.
Time for some sword practice. I pulled my trusty blade from magic storage, feeling that weird, muscle-memory buzz as if my body knew exactly what it was doing. I started to get into a nice rhythm, slicing through the air like I was born for this—when, of course, someone decided to interrupt my flow.
"Hey... what sword technique are you using?"
I turned to find Claire watching me, curious. Why was she asking me? I mean, in the game or the novel, Lucius didn't exactly have a defined sword technique. So... what was I supposed to say?
Ding.
[The technique used by Lucius is Voidpulse Blade.]
Well, that's convenient. Guess I have a name for my fancy moves now. Why wasn't this in the manual?
[Because the technique is embedded in him and is not taught by anyone.]
Ah, right. Of course. Time to roll with it. "It's called Voidpulse Blade," I said, like I totally knew what I was talking about.
"Huh... never heard of that one," Claire replied, her brow furrowed.
"Well, that's because it's super rare. Ancient. Mysterious. Definitely not something I just learned about five seconds ago," I grinned, trying to sound as believable as possible. "Kidding! It's probably just a well-kept secret."
Claire gave me a look, somewhere between amused and skeptical. "Secret or not, it sounds pretty cool."
"That's what I keep telling people," I smirked.
Before I could add anything else, the clang of metal suddenly echoed around the training ground as more students started sparring. The vibe shifted from casual to let's-get-serious. "Looks like things are heating up," I said, raising an eyebrow.
Claire's lips curled into a smirk. "Think you can take on one of those guys?"
I shot her a grin. "Only if I don't keel over first. But hey, if I do, just make sure my tombstone says, 'He trained hard but never quite mastered the 50 kg sword.'"
She actually laughed at that, which was a small victory in itself. Who knew Claire had this playful side? Honestly, I didn't expect her to be the person I'd talked to the most since starting at the academy. Was it just me, or was she popping up a lot lately?
As we kept bantering and trading practice moves, I felt someone else approach. I glanced over to see Zephyr, striding toward me like he was stepping onto a battlefield instead of a training ground. What did he want now?
"Lucius Ravenhart," he said in a tone so formal it sounded like he was about to challenge me to a medieval duel, "spar with me."
I blinked. Spar? Now? I'd just finished a grueling session, and my arms were basically noodles at this point.
Ding.
[Mission given]
[Win the sparring match against Zephyr Valerius.]
[Reward: Increased physical strength.]
Well, now we're talking! Forget fatigue—if I've got a shot at boosting my strength, I'm all in. Who needs rest when there are rewards on the line?
"Alright," I said, grinning as I tried to contain my excitement. "Let's do this."
As soon as I agreed to spar, a crowd of students gathered around the arena. Of course they did—Zephyr Valerius wasn't just some random guy swinging a sword. He was one of the academy's top ten, and his family? Legendary swordmasters, specializing in the light element. That's kind of like my dark element, but, you know, shinier. Not that I'm jealous or anything.
"We'll fight without using mana. Just pure sword skills," Zephyr announced, stepping into the ring like he was preparing for a duel between knights.
Claire, standing off to the side, gave me a look that screamed, Are you seriously doing this? "Are you sure you want to spar against him?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.
"Why? You think I'm gonna lose?" I quipped, keeping things casual, like I wasn't about to face one of the academy's elite in front of a live audience.
"N-not that! It's just... Zephyr's really talented. Even I might have trouble winning against him," she said, her brow furrowing.
"Well, we'll find out soon enough." I flashed her a confident grin and stepped into the sparring arena, fully aware I was playing with fire—but hey, who doesn't love a little risk?
No mana? Fine by me. I wasn't planning on relying on flashy spells anyway. Plus, I had a little secret weapon: the Librarian's Tome. Zephyr's character window popped up in my mind, giving me the inside scoop:
[Character Window]
Name: Zephyr Valerius
Age: 17
Element: Light
Combat Style: Discipline
Strengths: Precision, Defense, Resilience
Weaknesses: Predictable
Ah, predictability, I mused. It's like the universe was giving me a free pass to exploit the one thing Zephyr couldn't avoid.
The bell rang, and we began. Zephyr moved like a fortress—solid, controlled, with every step calculated. His stance screamed textbook-perfect swordsmanship. But me? I've never been much for textbooks. He was waiting, clearly testing my patience, but if he wanted to play defense, I'd happily oblige.
I darted forward, slashing toward his right, a classic bait-and-switch. He fell for it, of course, parrying just as I shifted my strike to his left.
Good. Stick to the script, Zephyr.
He countered with a diagonal slash, aiming for my shoulder. I sidestepped, narrowly dodging as he followed up with a barrage of flawless, predictable strikes. His technique was relentless, each blow heavy with precision, but I wasn't here to play by the rules.
The spectators watched in tense silence, clearly expecting Zephyr to crush me. But what they didn't realize was that he was starting to crack. His attacks were precise, yes, but also painfully predictable. Time to turn the tide.
I left a deliberate opening on my right side, and, as expected, Zephyr lunged.
And that's when I activated Voidpulse Blade.
My sword's movement shifted—erratic, fluid, almost unnatural. It wasn't a parry, not in the traditional sense. My blade seemed to curve, bending the laws of swordsmanship itself, slipping past Zephyr's strike like it was following a path only I could see.
Zephyr's eyes widened in confusion. The crowd gasped. No one had seen anything like this before.
Taking advantage of his momentary hesitation, I spun inside his guard, flipping my sword into a reverse grip and striking his exposed leg. The impact was swift, sending him stumbling backward.
Zephyr blinked, clearly stunned. His rigid style of swordsmanship had no answer for the chaos I was bringing to the table. Voidpulse Blade wasn't about brute force or speed—it was about defying expectations, turning precision into unpredictability.
He quickly regained his footing, his face set with determination. Zephyr rushed at me, his strikes coming faster, harder. But I could read him like a book—his body tensed ever so slightly before each attack.
This time, instead of dodging, I stepped into his strike, catching his blade with mine in a move that seemed reckless but was anything but. The Voidpulse Blade allowed me to absorb and redirect his force with a sharp twist of my wrist, sending his sword off-course.
Before he could recover, I swept his legs out from under him, catching him completely off guard. He hit the ground with a thud, the crowd falling into stunned silence.
And then, before anyone could process what just happened, I delivered the final blow—a clean strike to his chest, sending him sprawling.
For a beat, the entire arena was dead silent. Then, like the breaking of a dam, the crowd erupted in disbelief. Zephyr Valerius, one of the academy's best, had just been brought down. And not just with brute strength—no, I'd beaten him with a technique they'd never even seen before.
Zephyr slowly pushed himself to his feet, his breath coming in heavy gasps. He wasn't just frustrated—he was confused. "What... what was that technique?" he asked, the formal tone gone, replaced with genuine surprise.
I sheathed my sword, trying not to look too smug. "Voidpulse Blade," I said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "It's not about power or precision. It's about unpredictability."
Zephyr stared at me for a long moment, then nodded, accepting his defeat. "I've never seen anything like it."
I offered him a hand. After a moment of hesitation, he took it.
"You'll probably see it again," I said with a grin, "if you keep sparring with me."
He nodded, but I could see it in his eyes—this wasn't over. Zephyr wasn't the type to forget a loss. And frankly, I wouldn't have it any other way.
[Mission Accomplished]
[Reward: Increased Physical Strength]
One second I was standing there, panting like I'd just run a marathon, and the next? It felt like someone had plugged me directly into the world's most powerful energy grid. The surge was almost painful, like my muscles were being rewired with electricity. Thankfully, the discomfort vanished as quickly as it had hit me, leaving a weird, buzzy feeling in its place.
"Is this how it's supposed to work?" I muttered, flexing my fingers, feeling the new strength coursing through them like I'd just leveled up in real-time.
Curiosity got the better of me, so I pulled up my status window. Gotta check the goods, right?
[Status Window]
Name: Lucius Ravenhart
Age: 17
Element: Dark
Mana: 4.7
Strength: 6.1
Agility: 6.7
Endurance: 5.8
Intelligence: 15.1
Before I could celebrate, a surge of energy shot through my body like I'd just been zapped by lightning. Painful? Kind of. But when it passed, I felt stronger—lighter.
Not that I had time to sit around basking in my new stats. I had alchemy class in an hour, and the last thing I needed was another lecture about punctuality. Professor Ukron's lectures had a way of sucking the life out of you. And after the power boost I'd just gotten, I wasn't risking that.
Before I could make my grand exit, Claire approached, her arms crossed, eyes narrowed like she was trying to solve a puzzle.
"I didn't expect you to win against Zephyr," she said, her tone carrying just the faintest hint of surprise.
"Hey, I just got lucky at the end. Nothing too special," I replied, trying to play it cool. Not that the smug grin on my face was helping my case.
She shook her head, not buying it for a second. "That wasn't luck—it was skill. Good swordsmanship." And just like that, she turned and walked away, leaving me standing there blinking after her.
Compliments from Claire? Now that was rare. I half-expected the sky to start raining frogs or something.
Still, I couldn't complain. I walked away with a win, a shiny new stat boost, and, apparently, a sprinkle of respect. Not bad for a morning's work.
Now, off to alchemy class. Let's see what kind of chaos that brings.