Alex had thought he understood battle.
The clash of blades, the smell of blood, the sheer brutality of survival—he had faced all of it. But what was happening now… this was something else.
A different level entirely.
He barely had time to recover from the last bandit he'd killed before the air itself seemed to shift. A thick, heavy pressure settled over the battlefield, like the very world was reacting to the presence of something—someone—far beyond his level.
His head snapped toward the village square, where Roderic was locked in combat with one of the Blackfangs' strongest warriors.
No.
Not just a warrior.
This man fought like a knight—a true knight.
Roderic's massive blade crashed against the Blackfang's heavy axe, the impact shaking the ground beneath them. The sheer force of their strikes sent shockwaves through the air, dust and debris swirling around them like a storm.
And in that moment, Alex saw it.
The difference.
Roderic wasn't just swinging a sword with strength and skill—he was wielding something more. A faint, almost invisible energy clung to him, shifting like an unseen aura. His blade moved too fast for its size, each swing carrying an unnatural weight that sent bandits flying with single strikes.
The Blackfang warrior wasn't any different.
A dark aura crackled around his axe, making the air hum with tension. Each of his attacks carried a force that seemed to distort the space around it, the edges of his weapon glowing faintly.
Alex barely breathed, his mind racing.
This wasn't just skill. It wasn't just training.
It was power.
A power beyond normal humans.
The two warriors clashed again, their weapons colliding with a thunderous boom that sent a shockwave outward. The force alone knocked lesser fighters off their feet.
Alex stumbled back, his ears ringing.
"What the hell…?" he muttered, struggling to process what he was witnessing.
"That's what separates them from you," Mira's voice cut in.
Alex turned, finding Mira standing a few feet away, her daggers in hand. Unlike him, she wasn't watching in shock—her expression was focused, her stance poised.
"Roderic," she continued, "is a knight who has trained long enough to harness his Essence. That's what you're seeing."
"Essence?" Alex echoed, barely able to keep his gaze off the battle.
Mira nodded. "It's the energy that flows through all living things. But not everyone can control it. Knights refine their Essence through years of discipline, making their bodies stronger, their strikes heavier. A normal person can't match them in raw strength, no matter how hard they train."
Alex clenched his fists. He had suspected something like this existed—but seeing it firsthand was something else entirely.
It explained why knights were so feared, why no ordinary fighter could stand against one in a real battle.
But then—
A pillar of fire erupted from the center of the battlefield.
Alex barely had time to react before the wave of heat hit him like a brick wall. The temperature skyrocketed, flames roaring toward the sky as a familiar figure stepped forward.
The firecaster.
Alex froze.
The Blackfang mage stood amidst the flames, his cloak billowing from the heat, his arms outstretched. Unlike Roderic's Essence, which was subtle and controlled, the firecaster's power was raw, hungry, and wild. The very air shimmered around him, the ground cracking beneath his feet from the sheer heat radiating off his body.
"Essence doesn't just belong to knights," Mira muttered. "Mages have their own way of harnessing it. They refine their Essence into Arcane Flow, bending reality itself through pure willpower."
Alex could barely hear her over the roar of the flames.
The firecaster clenched his fist, and the flames obeyed, twisting and gathering around him like living creatures. His eyes glowed with unnatural intensity, his aura crackling with barely-contained power.
Then, with a flick of his wrist—
He unleashed hell.
A massive wave of fire exploded outward, consuming everything in its path.
Wooden houses ignited instantly, the sheer force of the spell tearing through the battlefield like a tidal wave of destruction.
Alex's breath caught.
There was no defense against something like this.
No amount of skill, no amount of training—normal fighters couldn't survive this.
But then—
Mira moved.
Faster than Alex had ever seen.
One moment she was standing beside him—the next, she was gone, her form blurring as she streaked toward the firecaster.
And then, Alex saw it—her own Essence.
But it wasn't like Roderic's or the firecaster's.
Mira's Essence was sharp, precise. It clung to her body like a second skin, making her movements fluid and unpredictable.
"The rogue's path," she murmured, just loud enough for Alex to hear as she vanished from sight.
The firecaster barely had time to react before she was on him.
Her daggers flashed, cutting through his flaming aura like a blade through silk. He staggered back, his flames flickering, his concentration breaking for just a moment.
It was all she needed.
Mira twisted mid-air, her Essence sharpening around her like a blade, and struck.
The firecaster let out a choked gasp, stumbling as blood sprayed from a deep gash across his ribs.
His flames faltered, his Arcane Flow collapsing under Mira's precise strikes.
Alex stood paralyzed, watching the fight unfold.
He had trained. He had learned. He had pushed himself harder than ever before.
But now, standing in the midst of this battle, he finally understood the gap between himself and those who had truly mastered their paths.
Essence. Arcane Flow. The Rogue's Veil.
This was true power.
And he was nowhere near it.
Not yet.
His heart pounded, not from fear—but from determination.
He had chosen the rogue's path. But right now, Mira stood far beyond him.
If he wanted to survive, if he wanted to stand on this battlefield as an equal, he had to push further.
He had to find his own Essence.
Because if he didn't—
He was already dead.