Kalem sat quietly in the infirmary, the muffled cheers of the crowd outside echoing faintly through the walls. His body ached from the clash with Dreyfus, and his pride had taken an even greater beating. The remnants of his shattered halberd lay on the bench beside him—a stark reminder of how unprepared he had been.
Despite his disappointment, Kalem couldn't shake the memory of Dreyfus's golden aura. It wasn't just raw power; there had been an elegance to it, a sense of control that had turned every strike into an unstoppable force.
"Battle aura…" Kalem muttered, turning the phrase over in his mind like an unfamiliar tool.
A healer interrupted his thoughts, applying a cool salve to his shoulder wound. "You held your own well out there," she said, her voice gentle but matter-of-fact. "But you were up against someone who's mastered their aura. Without it, you never stood a chance."
Kalem sighed. "Yeah, I figured that out the hard way."
The healer finished wrapping his arm and gave him an encouraging nod. "Aura isn't just for warriors, you know. Anyone with mana can learn it. But it takes patience, discipline, and a strong understanding of your body. You'll get there if you're serious."
Kalem thanked her and left the infirmary, her words swirling in his mind.
Outside, the tournament grounds were alive with energy. Vendors called out to passersby, selling everything from roasted meats to enchanted trinkets. Fighters mingled with spectators, sharing stories of battles won and lost. Kalem wandered through the crowd, his thoughts heavy.
He found himself near a group of competitors watching the semi-final matches on a large, magical display. The image of the arena flickered to life, showing two warriors mid-combat. One wielded a pair of axes, his aura manifesting as a fiery red glow that seemed to pulse with each swing. His opponent, a lithe woman with a rapier, had a faint silver aura that enhanced her speed and precision.
"See how she's using her aura?" one fighter said, pointing at the screen. "She's not just amplifying her strength; she's channeling it into her movements, making her strikes faster and harder to predict."
"Yeah, and the guy with the axes is using his aura to absorb impacts," another chimed in. "It's not just about offense—it's about defense, too."
Kalem listened intently, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place. Battle aura wasn't some mystical, unattainable power; it was a technique, a skill honed through training and discipline.
Determined to learn more, Kalem sought out the older fighters who weren't competing that day. He found an elderly warrior sitting by a fire, polishing an ancient-looking sword. The man's aura was faint, barely visible, but it radiated a sense of calm and control.
"Excuse me," Kalem said, approaching cautiously. "Can I ask you about battle aura?"
The warrior glanced up, his eyes sharp despite his age. "You took a beating out there," he said, gesturing to Kalem's bandaged shoulder. "I'm guessing you want to know why."
Kalem nodded. "I've never seen anything like it. Everyone talks about it like it's second nature, but I don't even know where to start."
The warrior chuckled. "Battle aura isn't something you can pick up overnight. It's a blend of mana manipulation and physical mastery. You channel your energy into your body, amplifying your natural abilities. But the key isn't just power—it's control."
He tapped the hilt of his sword. "Take this blade, for example. Without proper balance, it's useless. The same goes for aura. If you can't control it, you'll burn out or lose focus in the middle of a fight."
Kalem frowned. "How do you even begin to train for something like that?"
"Start with your breathing," the man said simply. "Aura flows through your body like a current. If you can't control your breath, you can't control your energy."
Kalem spent the rest of the day watching the semi-finals, studying every move the fighters made. He noticed how their auras shifted with their strategies, adapting to the flow of the battle. The woman with the rapier used her aura to anticipate her opponent's attacks, while the axe-wielding warrior relied on raw power to overwhelm her.
As Kalem observed, he began to see parallels between aura and his work as a blacksmith. Just as a blade needed balance and precision to be effective, so too did a warrior's aura. It wasn't enough to have power; it had to be directed, shaped, and refined.
That evening, Kalem sat in his rented room, the remnants of his halberd spread out before him. He ran his fingers over the broken shaft, his mind racing with ideas.
"If I can learn to forge a blade, I can learn this," he said aloud, his voice steady with determination. "It's just another skill—a tool to master."
He pulled out a piece of parchment and began sketching a new design for a weapon. This one would be different, built with his newfound knowledge in mind.
As he worked, Kalem felt a spark of hope. His loss to Dreyfus had been humbling, but it had also opened a door to new possibilities. Battle aura wasn't just a tool for warriors; it was a means of pushing himself further, both as a fighter and a craftsman.
He didn't know how long it would take or where his journey would lead, but one thing was certain: he wouldn't stop until he had mastered the art of aura.
Kalem set down his quill and stared at the design, his resolve solidifying.
"This isn't the end," he said. "It's just the beginning."