The midday sun hung high above the training grounds, casting long shadows over the soldiers who swung their swords in rhythmic precision. The clanking of metal against metal echoed in the vast yard as knights sparred, their grunts of effort lost amidst the clashing sounds of steel.

  Lucius stood at the edge of the training grounds, his gaze fixed on the familiar wooden post at the center. Two days of rest had done nothing to dull his determination. If anything, the fire in his eyes burned even stronger.

  Commander Darius, who had been supervising the knights, turned as he caught sight of Lucius. A rare smile formed on his lips as he stepped forward.

  "So, the little monster wakes again," Darius said with a chuckle. "I was beginning to think you had a habit of collapsing on us."

  Lucius gave a small nod, his expression unreadable. There was no playful response this time, no words of banter—only unwavering focus.

  Darius noticed the difference but said nothing. Instead, he watched as Lucius began his usual physical training, pushing himself harder than ever before. The boy had always been relentless, but today, there was something else—something different. His movements were sharper, his stance firmer.

  Marshal Reynard had also been observing from afar. Lucius's aura was different today. It wasn't just strength—it was refinement, as if something deep inside him had changed.

  As midday arrived, Lucius finally picked up the sword, his fingers wrapping around the familiar hilt. He walked towards the wooden post—his final test.

  Darius, who had gone back to training the knights, glanced toward him with mild curiosity. He had seen Lucius strike the post dozens of times before. The boy always managed to cut deep, but never enough to split it in half. This was an impossible task for his age.

  "What was Reynard thinking, giving him such an absurd challenge?" Darius thought. A Third-Circle Mage could barely wield an Aura Blade at the age of 21 to 27—even among nobles. Lucius was only nine.

  He was about to return his focus to the knights when—

  A blinding flash of silver cut through the air.

  It was too fast.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Too clean.

  Before anyone could process what had happened, a resounding crack echoed through the training ground.

  The wooden post split in two.

  Lucius stood frozen in his stance, his sword still glowing faintly, shimmering with an eerie silver hue. The energy surrounding the blade flickered like lightning before fading into nothingness.

  A hush fell over the training ground. No one spoke.

  Darius's eyes widened. He slowly turned his head toward the severed post, his mind racing to understand what had just happened.

  "Did he… just cut it?"

  One of the knights took a hesitant step forward, his breath caught in his throat. "H-He did it… he actually did it…"

  The murmurs began.

  "Did you see that?"

  "He used Aura Blade—at nine years old!"

  "That’s impossible… right?"

  The disbelief rippled through the gathered knights, each of them struggling to comprehend what had just occurred.

  Marshal Reynard, who had been watching from a distance, finally began walking toward Lucius. His expression was unreadable, but his gaze was intense, locked onto the young boy standing in front of the split wooden post.

  Reynard had given this task as a test of willpower—to see how far Lucius could push himself before giving up. But never, not even in his wildest expectations, had he believed that Lucius would actually succeed.

  And yet… he had.

  And not just that.

  Lucius had awakened an Aura Blade.

  The knights were still frozen in shock when one of them finally whispered:

  "Has there ever been a warrior who could wield an Aura Blade at the age of nine?"

  The answer was clear. Never. Not even in the ancient legends of heroes and mythical warlords.

  Lucius finally exhaled and straightened his stance. His hands still trembled slightly from the force of the strike, but he felt a deep satisfaction inside him. He had done it.

  Darius took slow steps forward, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. He was at a loss for words.

  "You…" He swallowed. "You’ve just done something that defies everything we know about swordsmanship."

  Lucius simply nodded, his face calm. He expected this result.

  Marshal Reynard finally stopped a few feet away, his piercing eyes analyzing Lucius in a new light. For the first time in his life, Reynard was truly shaken.

  "Is this boy truly only nine?"

  He had trained Cassius. He had trained Julius. He had trained dozens of nobles and warriors, each with immense potential.

  None of them had ever shown something like this.

  The event spread like wildfire throughout Ardentis Manor. The knights couldn’t stop talking about it. Servants whispered the news through the halls. The guards outside the Duke’s chamber hesitated before knocking on the door.

  Duke Magnus Ardentis, who had never once paid attention to Lucius since his coma, sat at his desk when the news reached him.

  At first, he barely reacted.

  Then—his hand, which held a quill, stopped writing.

  For the first time in years, Duke Magnus turned his full attention to his youngest son.

  Lucius Ardentis had just become impossible to ignore.