The Valmont Training Grounds stretched across a vast courtyard, its stone floors worn from centuries of battle. Knights and trainees moved with rigid discipline, their armor clanking as they sparred under the watchful eyes of their instructors.
Noah stood alone at the far end, his sword raised before him. He exhaled slowly.
Before him stood a wooden training puppet—a humanoid figure reinforced with steel plates and a red mark on its chest, indicating a fatal strike zone.
The Arcane Sword Art was a fluid, refined style that blended magic with raw combat efficiency. His father had perfected it. If Noah wanted to climb the ranks, he needed to do the same.
First stance—Razor Fang.
His blade whipped through the air, leaving a faint blue arc as it struck diagonally across the puppet's torso. The impact vibrated through his arms, but he adjusted instantly.
Second stance—Crushing Maw.
A downward slash, two-handed, aiming to break armor. The steel dented inward.
Third stance—Piercing Fang.
A sudden thrust, aimed directly at the red mark. The force behind it caused the puppet to shudder.
Noah paused, breathing steadily. His body remembered, even if it wasn't fully trained yet. His modern soldier instincts merged with the natural talent of Noah Valmont.
But he was still far from the top.
His thoughts drifted to the Seven Stages of Knighthood.
1. Iron Knight – The foundation. A trained warrior, stronger than common soldiers.
2. Steel Knight – Enhanced endurance and reflexes, capable of defeating lesser knights.
3. Silver Knight – Masters of weapon techniques, with a touch of aura control.
4. Gold Knight – Their strikes carry battle aura, cutting through steel like butter.
5. Crimson Knight – Warriors whose bodies are fused with battle aura, granting monstrous strength.
6. Azure Knight – Rare elites who can blend aura with magic, turning them into battlefield legends.
7. Paragon Knight – The peak. Only five exist in the empire.
And his father was one of them.
Right now, Noah was barely at the level of an Iron Knight. His body held potential, but that wasn't enough.
He had to reach the top.
His grip on the sword tightened.
With renewed focus, he prepared to strike again—
But then, a voice called out.
"That's impressive, brother. But training alone won't make you strong."
Noah turned toward the stone balcony overlooking the training grounds.
Lucas Valmont.
His half-brother.
Lucas leaned against the railing, his smirk sharp. His eyes, however, were calculating.
Noah said nothing.
Lucas straightened and gestured with his hand.
From the gathered trainees, a young knight candidate stepped forward.
Cedric Lothar.
Noah recognized him immediately. A promising fighter, already classified as a full-fledged Iron Knight.
Lucas's smirk widened. "A duel. Prove your strength."
A murmur spread through the gathered trainees.
"That's unfair—Cedric is an Iron Knight!"
"Lord Lucas just wants to humiliate him."
"Poor Young Lord Noah..."
Noah saw the pity in their gazes.
They thought he was walking into a slaughter.
He exhaled slowly. Good. Let them think that.
Without a word, Noah turned to the weapons rack. Instead of picking a standard training sword, he grabbed a heavy iron longsword.
Gasps rippled through the audience.
Lucas's smirk widened. He thought Noah was making a mistake.
He was wrong.
Noah stepped forward. His grip was firm. His mind was sharp.
His eyes locked onto Cedric's.
"Let's begin."
The training grounds fell silent as Noah and Cedric faced each other. The spectators stood in tense anticipation.
Cedric was already a full-fledged Iron Knight, while Noah—at least in their eyes—was just a noble heir who had survived one battle.
Noah, however, knew better. Strength wasn't just about power—it was about control.
Cedric smirked. "I'll try not to break you too badly, Young Lord."
Noah didn't respond. He simply raised his heavy iron longsword.
A trainer stepped forward. "Begin!"
Cedric lunged instantly. His sword swung in a fast, brutal arc, aiming to overpower Noah with sheer force.
But Noah had already moved.
A single step to the side—perfectly timed. Cedric's blade whistled through empty air.
Before Cedric could recover, Noah's elbow slammed into his ribs.
A gasp of pain. Cedric stumbled, his balance momentarily broken.
Noah pressed forward.
His sword slashed diagonally, aiming for Cedric's exposed side.
Cedric blocked—barely. The force of the impact sent shockwaves up his arm.
"What the hell?"
This wasn't the desperate defense of a weak noble. This was something else.
Cedric gritted his teeth and activated his Iron Knight aura. A faint blue shimmer surrounded his blade as he swung with full strength.
Noah stepped forward.
A feint—his sword flicked toward Cedric's shoulder.
Cedric raised his blade to block.
But Noah had never aimed there in the first place.
His knee slammed into Cedric's stomach.
Air rushed out of Cedric's lungs. He doubled over.
Noah didn't stop.
A savage downward slash smashed into Cedric's sword. The sheer force knocked the weapon from his hands.
The blade clattered against the stone floor.
Cedric fell to one knee, gasping. His eyes were wide with disbelief.
He had lost.
Silence swallowed the training yard.
The trainees who had once pitied Noah now stared in shock.
Noah slowly planted his sword into the ground, resting his hand on the hilt. His voice was calm—too calm.
"You're an Iron Knight?" He tilted his head. "This is the standard?"
Cedric flinched.
Noah exhaled, shaking his head. "Disappointing."
Gasps spread through the crowd. The fear in their eyes was real.
Noah turned his gaze upward.
Lucas stood on the stone balcony. His face was rigid, his fingers clenched against the railing.
The smirk was gone.
For the first time, Lucas looked shaken.
Noah met his brother's gaze and smirked. Message received, Lucas.
If Lucas wanted him humiliated—he would have to try much, much harder.
Noah turned and walked away, leaving behind the shattered pride of an Iron Knight and a humiliated brother.
The tides were changing.
And Noah Valmont was just getting started.