Kael stood in the middle of a short-grass field surrounded by high stone walls. Valdoria's morning air was biting, but sweat had already soaked through his linen shirt. In front of him, Magister Corvus stood with a stiff posture, his gray eyes staring sharply without compromise. On the other side, Magistra Clara jotted something down on parchment, occasionally glancing at Kael through brass-rimmed spectacles.
"Focus, Kael!" Corvus reprimanded, his voice booming and echoing off the stone walls. "Light Aether is not merely a lantern you light at night. It is the embodiment of absolute order. If you let it run wild, it will burn your own veins from the inside."
He ground his jaw. His gaze was fixed on his right palm. A warm sensation began to flow from his chest, creeping through his arm. The air around him rustled softly. Golden rays erupted from the pores of his skin, blinding the eyes. However, unlike when he trained independently with Darius, this light refused to be still. It fluctuated, rebelling as if it had a will of its own.
"Form the Lux rune," Clara ordered in an analytical tone. "Hold it in a circular pattern. Don't let the core break."
He tried to force the energy to condense, to form geometric lines in the air. Yet, the harder he pushed, the stronger the Aether's resistance became. A sharp pain pierced the base of his head, as if iron nails were being hammered into his skull. The lines of light faded, then burst into a small explosion of pure energy that knocked Kael's body backward.
He fell to his knees, panting. Kael's chest rose and fell rapidly, his lungs feeling like they were burning.
"The purity is too high," Clara muttered, more to herself than to Corvus. "This is not an issue of capacity, Magister. It's an issue of the vessel. His Aether channels are not yet accustomed to holding such dense energy."
Corvus sighed deeply, a faint disappointment crossing his hardened face. "On the battlefield, the enemy will not wait for your Aether channels to adapt, Kael. Failure to control your power means death for your comrades around you."
"I understand," Kael said in a hoarse voice, forcing himself to stand even though his thigh muscles trembled. "Once more."
"Enough for this morning," Corvus cut in firmly. "You have your recruit's final trial this afternoon. If you push yourself now, you'll only pass out before the trial even begins. Save your strength."
The young man looked down, staring at his palm which was still slightly shaking and felt hot. A deep sense of frustration choked his chest. He possessed a power that was said to rival the Shadow Knights, yet he could not use it when it was needed. The memory of his father's death, Dorian's, flashed in his mind—his helplessness that night haunting him every time he fell.
Approaching noon, the sun was shining fiercely when Kael returned to the barracks. The atmosphere inside was filled with restrained tension. The recruits were busy checking their gear, sharpening swords, or tightening leather armor straps. This final trial would determine their division placement within the Valdorian army.
Erik was sitting on his bed, strapping on a wild boar leather arm guard. His friend looked at Kael with a tense smile.
"You look like you just got chewed up by a griffin and spat back out," Erik commented, trying to lighten the mood.
"Special training," Kael answered briefly. He walked to his bed and began wiping the blade of his steel sword with an oiled cloth. The movement was rhythmic, an old habit that always helped calm his mind.
"They're really wringing you dry, huh?" Erik sighed. "I hope you still have some energy left. Sergeant Brok said today's test will be held in the Simulation Forest. We have to reach the extraction point while dodging traps and wooden dummies animated with mechanical Aether."
Before Kael could reply, the sound of heavy footsteps approached. Kael didn't need to turn to know who was coming. The strong scent of noble perfume and the clinking of a metal belt were enough of a clue.
Marcus Valerius stood at the edge of Kael's bed area, accompanied by his two loyal lackeys. The young noble's face harbored undisguised hatred. The bruises from their duel a few weeks ago were indeed gone, but the wound to his pride was clearly still rotting inside.
"So this is Valdoria's secret weapon," Marcus sneered, his voice laden with contempt. "A farmer's boy who can't even stand straight after a few hours of training. I hope you don't cry out for your mother when we're in the forest later."
Without lifting his head, he continued to wipe his sword, not speeding up or slowing his movements in the slightest. His cold demeanor obviously fueled Marcus's anger further.
"Ignore him, Marcus," Erik rebuked, standing up to block Marcus's view of Kael. "Just focus on your own trial."
Marcus shoved Erik aside roughly. "I'm not talking to you, wild boar." He leaned forward, staring straight at Kael. "You humiliated me in the arena, Kael. You think that makes you special? The Simulation Forest doesn't have arena supervision rules. Accidents happen frequently there. Traps that suddenly malfunction... roots that trip you into a ravine."
Only after that threat was spoken did Kael finally stop his movements. He set down the oiled cloth, stood up, and met Marcus's gaze with an expressionless face, as empty as a winter's night.
"If you want to kill me, Marcus," Kael said in an intimidatingly flat tone, "do it with your own sword. Don't hide behind traps."
Marcus's face flushed crimson, the veins in his neck bulging. He looked as if he wanted to draw his sword right then and there, but the shrill blast of a trumpet from outside the barracks shattered the tension. It was the assembly call.
"We will see about that, farm boy," Marcus hissed, turning and walking away with his lackeys.
Erik gulped. "He's serious, Kael. You have to be careful. Marcus has money, and money can buy a lot of things in this place, including altering the map routes of the trial."
Kael sheathed his sword. "I know." The restless feeling from last night crept up the back of his neck again. It wasn't just Marcus's threat weighing on him, but the memory of the red eyes lurking outside the walls of Valdoria. It all felt intertwined, weaving an unseen danger that was drawing ever closer.
The Valdorian Simulation Forest was a dense expanse of ancient pine trees, enclosed by a circular stone wall and monitored from watchtowers. The leaf canopy was so thick that the afternoon sun could only pierce through in thin pillars of light filled with floating dust. A damp atmosphere and the smell of moss dominated the air.
Before entering the forest gates, Kael reflexively looked up toward the high balconies of the towering Valdorian palace wing in the distance. There, amidst the shadows of the pillars, he caught a flash of golden hair blowing in the wind. Even from that distance, Kael could feel her presence. Elara. Kael didn't know why the royal princess bothered to watch an ordinary recruit's trial, but a warmth washed away his anxiety for a moment, as if reminding him that his struggle was no longer just about himself.
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"Begin!" shouted Sergeant Brok.
Kael dashed into the forest alongside dozens of other recruits. Their objective was to reach the beacon tower at the northern edge of the forest in under an hour. Initially, the group ran together, but the harsh terrain obstacles quickly scattered them into small, fragmented units.
Artificial tree roots controlled by mechanical Aether moved like wild snakes, trying to snare ankles. Kael jumped, rolled, and dodged with agility forged from years in the wilds of Greenwood. He led at the front line, conserving his energy and letting his instincts take over the navigation.
His breathing was steady, his muscles moving with utmost efficiency. He bypassed spiked wooden pendulum obstacles and mud pit traps without significant difficulty. However, as he crossed an area filled with simulated fog, he realized that the route he was taking seemed odd. The directional signs carved into the trees appeared to have been crudely manipulated.
Suddenly, from the bushes on his left, a steel wire snapped forward at high speed, aiming for his neck. Kael ducked sharply, feeling the wind of the wire's slash roar right over his head.
He rolled forward and drew his sword. Out from behind the thick fog, Marcus and his two lackeys emerged. They had taken a secret shortcut, waiting for Kael on this isolated route.
"Good reflexes," Marcus said, his sword already drawn and glinting. "But in this blind spot, there are no instructors to stop the match."
"This is not a trial," Kael said, his voice remaining calm though his heartbeat raced.
"This is a lesson about your place in this world," Marcus replied with sheer malice. He gave a hand signal, and his two lackeys immediately lunged at Kael simultaneously from two different sides.
Kael parried the first attack with a precise spin of his sword, sparking fire as steel clashed against steel. He kicked the second attacker's knee hard with the heel of his boot, sending the man sprawling into the mud. Kael's movements were the result of lethal training; he wasted no energy on superfluous motions.
Marcus followed up with a ferocious vertical slash from above. Kael angled his blade, deflecting the momentum of Marcus's slash to the side, then countered by smashing the pommel of his sword straight into Marcus's face. The noble stumbled backward with a muffled cry, fresh blood streaming from his nose.
"You're a loser, Marcus," Kael said coldly, his eyes locking onto his opponent. "A loser forever."
Marcus roared in anger, preparing to swing his weapon again. But, before his sword could fully swing, something plummeted down from the tree canopy above.
A pitch-black shadow slammed into one of Marcus's lackeys with bone-crushing force. A horrifying crack resounded, and the man was thrown crashing into a tree trunk, knocked out instantly.
Marcus froze. Kael stepped back slowly, his survival instincts screaming.
The artificial fog around them abruptly changed color, thickening into a blackish hue and feeling bone-chillingly cold. The metallic stench of blood and rotting flesh immediately replaced the scent of forest moss. Out from the darkness of the fog stepped a simulated wooden dummy shaped like a large wolf.
However, this was no ordinary wooden dummy. Its wooden joints emitted a blackish-purple smoke that crawled like spider webs, infecting the air with a putrid smell he recognized all too well from Greenwood. The smell of corruption, the smell of blood and burning wood, the smell of a demon.
"What... what is that?" Marcus's voice trembled. His arrogance and anger evaporated in the blink of an eye, replaced by pure primal panic.
Kael didn't answer. His hands gripped his sword hilt until his knuckles turned white. The creature's cold aura pierced the pores of his skin, carrying a familiar sensation of despair. This was Dark Aether. Somehow, a demonic entity had managed to infiltrate the northern defensive borders of the Valdorian Simulation Forest, hacking a lifeless training dummy into a real, murderous monster.
The corrupted wooden wolf growled, the sound of severely creaking wood mixed with a beast's snarl echoing from the void. With a speed far exceeding its mechanical capabilities, the monster lunged toward Marcus.
The noble was too paralyzed to react. Kael moved first. He leapt forward, slashing his sword with all his might toward the monster's jaw.
Crack!
Kael's steel sword slammed into the wooden snout, but instead of cutting it, the blade bounced back hard as if hitting solid steel rock. The purple smoke from the monster's body reacted swiftly, creeping up Kael's sword blade like living tendrils. A burning sensation immediately stung his palm. Kael was forced to jump back, pulling Marcus by his uniform until the noble tumbled out of the lethal reach of the monster's claws.
"Get up and fight, or run!" Kael yelled at Marcus, who was still sitting pale as a ghost.
Marcus's remaining lackey had already shrieked and fled into the fog, abandoning his master. Marcus, his hands trembling violently, crawled backward, his legs paralyzed by total terror.
The corrupted wolf turned its body slowly, its red eyes now locked entirely on Kael. The monster completely ignored Marcus. It was as if it had been tracking Kael's presence from the very beginning.
The monster lunged again, this time aiming for Kael's throat with its purple aura-coated claws. Kael ducked drastically, feeling the icy aura tear at the collar of his shirt. He countered with a low slash at the monster's legs, but the wood was too hard, reinforced by a pulsating layer of protective Dark Aether within.
A single sweep of the monster's claws struck Kael's shoulder, throwing him back several fathoms. Kael crashed and rolled over the clay, pain exploding in his ribs. He coughed, tasting the metallic tang of blood in his mouth.
Ordinary won't be enough, Kael thought desperately, his vision slightly swimming as he stared at his enemy. A normal steel sword would never pierce a Dark Aether shield.
The wolf stalked closer, creeping as if enjoying its prey's suffering. The purple smoke billowed thicker, killing the small plants it passed over.
Kael forced his body up, leaning heavily on his sword. He recalled Corvus's harsh reprimand this morning. Light Aether is the embodiment of absolute order. He had to summon his magic, despite the pain tearing at his chest, despite its lethal instability. This was the only way.
He focused his remaining consciousness. Ignoring the throbbing pain in his chest, Kael forcibly drew the warmth from the center of his soul, roughly pushing it to flow into his arms. The air around him instantly rustled violently.
A bright incandescence exploded from Kael's body, illuminating the pitch-black forest fog. An extreme sensation of heat immediately burned his veins, exactly like the torture of morning training. But this time, he didn't try to subtly condense it into a rune. He let the power flow wildly, enveloping the blade of his steel sword until it looked as though it were made of holy fire.
The corrupted wolf halted, stepping back, hissing in pain as Kael's wave of light pierced its purple smoke. The light purified the darkness in the air, forcing the shadows away.
"Die!" Kael swung his sword with the last push of energy he possessed.
He dashed forward, utilizing the Dawn Blade stance his father had taught him long ago. His movements no longer relied solely on muscle strength, but were entirely propelled by the kinetic burst of the light energy. His sword cleaved the air with a loud, bright whistling sound.
When his sword collided with the wolf's body, there was no longer the dull sound of ricocheting steel. Kael's white light pierced the strongest defense of the Dark Aether, cutting through the thick wood like a hot knife slicing through butter. The wolf was split into two pieces, its dark core exploding in an ear-piercing supernatural shriek, before finally vanishing into a pile of ash swept away by the wind.
The explosive impact radiated a shockwave that threw Kael's body back. He landed with his back slamming into the hard ground. The magical light on his sword instantly extinguished along with his stuttering breath.
An incredible pain paralyzed his entire body. His head throbbed as if it were about to split. Aether depletion attacked him without mercy; his muscles cramped, his nerves burned, and his vision slowly darkened. He had pushed the capacity of his Aether channels far beyond the natural limits of a Tier D body.
In the distance, through the thinning fog, he could faintly hear the sound of instructors' whistles blowing in panic and the shouts of people approaching. An Aether fluctuation of this magnitude must have triggered the Valdorian palace's entire magical alarm system.
Kael tried to hold onto his remaining consciousness. He slowly turned his head to look at the monster's ashes. From the fading remnants of the last darkness, Kael heard a cold, whispering voice echoing directly inside his skull.
"The time draws near... heir of dawn."
Kael's eyes closed completely. Darkness enveloped him, sinking him into silent unconsciousness.
— To be continued in Chapter 14 —