The Next Day.
Early in the morning, Mother brought me to the training hall, where my three sisters were already waiting.
The twins, Isabella and Annabella, quickly approached me, each taking one of my hands in their palms, just as Mother had done yesterday to assess something within me.
They closed their eyes and began to examine me in silence.
"It's true," Isabella, my elder sister, said with a shocked expression. "Our baby brother really does possess such pure mana."
Annabella opened her eyes, equally surprised. "And the quantity of his mana is far beyond normal for his age… I can't believe he has such a large reserve of naturally accumulated mana," she remarked, astonished.
Both of them grinned triumphantly and exchanged smug glances with our eldest sister, Elizabeth. "He's a mage, just like us," Isabella declared.
Elizabeth frowned and turned to Mother, who sighed, clearly sensing the silent argument brewing between them.
"Enough, you two," Mother said firmly. "He isn't a mage yet. We came here to see if he has the potential to practice martial arts through traditional methods."
"I understand that," Isabella replied, "but it's already confirmed that he has great potential to be a mage, given the purity and amount of his naturally accumulated mana."
"Why don't we just start his early training in magic then?" Annabella suggested.
"We need to be sure," Elizabeth insisted, her tone serious. "What if he has an even greater talent for martial arts than for magic?"
I could recall Elizabeth often expressing her desire for me to follow in her footsteps and become a martial artist like her and Mother.
I could see the dissatisfaction on her face now that my talent for magic had been revealed.
Yet, she hadn't given up hope on turning me into a martial artist—I could see it in her determined expression, which she only wore when something concerned me.
"Come on, seriously…" Annabella said, shaking her head. "It's already an anomaly that our brother possesses such pure mana in such a large quantity, accumulated in just seven years since his birth. He could become a mage unlike any we've ever seen! To also possess martial arts talent on top of that? That's impossible."
Throughout ancient history to the present, only a few types of talent had been observed:
The first type comprised individuals with exceptional talent for martial arts but who exhibited half or less of that talent when it came to magic.
Similarly, those with great talent for magic possessed only half a level of talent for martial arts.
People with these talents usually focused on one path while undergoing only basic training in the other.
The second type consisted of those who excelled in a single path, with almost no talent in the other.
For example, if a person had talent for martial arts, they would possess negligible talent in magic, and vice versa.
Such people had no choice but to practice the path in which they were gifted.
The third type involved individuals with equal talent in both paths, though their talents were generally low in comparison to the other two types.
These individuals often chose to train in both paths to the best of their abilities, but their growth was slower and their potential more limited.
I guess since I'm already showing early signs of awakening an extraordinary talent for magic, the twins have likely assumed I wouldn't excel much in martial arts.
Honestly, they're not wrong to think that, as I don't expect to have much talent in martial arts either.
Having great talent in one path—magic—already promises a bright future, so I wouldn't be too disappointed if martial arts wasn't my strength.
Talent is something we are born with; it cannot be altered or enhanced.
In this case, I can do nothing but accept what's been given to me.
"Let's begin the test," my mother said, clapping her hands to draw everyone's attention.
The test she was about to administer was a traditional one.
When I asked her why she chose it, she said she's a traditional woman and believes in keeping ancient customs alive.
I've read about the traditional methods in the library, so I knew what to expect.
I watched as my sister Elizabeth brought several sheathed weapons in her arms, handing me one of them.
It was clearly a sword, wrapped in a dark, black cloth.
"The sword of a martial artist is more than just a weapon," my mother continued. "It develops a will of its own, forged and ignited over years of practicing martial arts and techniques, absorbing the essence of its master."
She paused before adding, "Passing this test only indicates that you possess the potential to follow the path of martial arts. It doesn't measure the depth of your talent, only whether it exists."
"The test is simple, my beloved son. All you have to do is hold the sword and use your will to awaken the will of the sword. Don't worry—the will inside these weapons is weak and submissive. The purpose of the test is to see if you can trigger its power."
With that, she gestured for me to proceed with the sword.
...
The World Tree, Yggdrasil, stood at the heart of the nine great pantheons, their nine hells, and their nine heavens.
This sacred ground, the base of Yggdrasil, served as a neutral meeting point where gods from all pantheons could walk freely.
"It's such a drag having to work with useless gods, not just from my pantheon, but from others too," Ares, the Greek god of war, muttered with a snort.
"Deal with it, Ares. If you want to stay alive for eternity, we must work together," Tyr, the Norse god of war, replied, rolling his eyes.
"Can you two stop bickering for even a second?" Aphrodite interjected, exasperated.
"Just ignore them," Hestia said, massaging her shoulders. "They're war gods; all they know is fighting." Her attention shifted back to the pond reflecting an image of the crimson-haired boy they had been observing since the day he was reborn into the world.
"Look, they're testing him for martial talent," Aphrodite pointed out, directing their gaze toward the pond.
"There's no need for tests. Of course, he has martial talent," Ares scoffed. "He has my blessing—the god of war. He's naturally gifted in every form of martial weaponry."
"He has the blessings of war gods and goddesses from every pantheon," Tyr added. "He should be the most talented mortal to have ever lived."
Their focus returned to the pond, where the scene showed a young boy with crimson hair and green eyes, holding a sheathed sword in his hand.
This was Damian Ignatius—the only mortal ever to be blessed by thousands of gods and goddesses.
He stood there, holding the sword with a calm expression.
"Just unsheathe the sword and try to sense its intent," his mother, Victoria Ignatius, encouraged with unwavering confidence, as if she held no doubt that her son would succeed.
Damian felt no pressure.
He simply allowed himself to be present in the moment.
He held the scabbard with his left hand, grasped the hilt with his right, and slowly drew the sword.
As the blade emerged from its sheath, a sense of deep familiarity washed over him.
Unbeknownst to Damian, his eyes began to glow faintly with a golden hue.
When the sword was fully drawn, he closed his eyes and concentrated all his will on the weapon.
"Does this mean he lacks martial talent?" Elizabeth, his eldest sister, asked, disappointment lacing her words.
"No, wait," Victoria cautioned, sensing something stirring in the air.
There was a brief, charged silence.
Then, the sword in Damian's hand began to emit a silvery light, accompanied by an unmistakable aura of sword intent.
"He… he really does have martial talent," Elizabeth said, relief and satisfaction evident in her voice.
But her moment of contentment was short-lived.
The sword at her side suddenly began to vibrate, releasing its own silvery aura.
Victoria's spear, strapped to her back, also trembled and glowed with a similar light.
"What's happening?" Victoria murmured, equally confused.
Damian remained unaware, his consciousness having slipped into a meditative state.
It soon became clear that this phenomenon wasn't limited to their weapons.
Every single weapon within the training hall—swords, spears, halberds, war hammers, tridents, battle axes, maces, glaives, lances, scythes, and more—began to quiver, responding to the crimson-haired boy's will.
"Isn't this a bit much?" Elizabeth whispered, wide-eyed at the sight.
"They're resonating with his will," Victoria replied, her voice barely audible in her awe.
This phenomenon wasn't confined to their training hall alone.
Across the entire kingdom of Astoria, every martial weapon, regardless of its strength, quality, or ownership, responded to an unseen force radiating from Damian.
It didn't matter how mighty the weapon or its wielder's rank; in that moment, all weapons released their intent in response to the true master's call.
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{Author's Note: If you enjoyed this chapter, don't forget to vote with some POWER STONES. It would also really help me if you could rate this book. Thank you for reading!}