The next morning, I woke up annoyed.
Not because of training.
Not because Verona had repeatedly demonstrated that I possessed all the combat effectiveness of an aggressive toddler compared to her.
No.
I was upset because I couldn’t immediately become rich.
A tragedy.
A genuine tragedy.
The System appeared.
[But host, she did say she’ll try to get the word going before actually giving you a chance to sell them.]
‘I know.’
[Then what is the problem?]
‘It still doesn’t feel good.’
[The host has been denied instant wealth.]
‘Exactly.’
[Such suffering.]
‘Thank you for understanding.’
[I was mocking you.]
‘Close enough.’
After getting dressed, I left my room and wandered through the estate.
The massive manor was already active.
Servants moved through hallways.
Guards patrolled the grounds.
Everything operated with the terrifying efficiency expected from the residence of the strongest Awakener on Earth.
Eventually, my feet carried me toward one of the estate’s indoor training facilities.
The moment I entered, I noticed I wasn’t alone.
“Oh?”
The System appeared immediately.
[Host, please stop spying.]
‘What?’
[You are literally hiding behind a doorway.]
‘I’m observing.’
[This is a clear invasion of privacy.]
‘Tch.
You don’t have to put it like that.’
Inside the hall, Lyra stood alone.
Her silver hair swayed gently as she moved.
Twin daggers rested in her hands.
Her Soul Weapons.
Silver energy flowed across the blades like liquid light.
She moved through a series of precise slashes.
Each strike flowed perfectly into the next.
No wasted motion.
No hesitation.
No flaws.
It was less like watching someone practice and more like watching someone sharpen a blade.
Then she stopped.
Her stance lowered.
The atmosphere shifted.
Instantly.
“[Echo Fall — First Form: Whisper Step.]”
Her voice barely rose above a whisper.
Then she vanished.
Not teleportation.
Not Blink.
Just movement.
Pure movement.
Yet somehow…
I couldn’t hear anything.
No footsteps.
No displaced air.
No friction.
Nothing.
For a brief moment, it looked as though she had simply ceased to exist.
Then she reappeared several meters away.
My eyes widened.
That was ridiculous.
“What are you doing?”
A sweet, cold voice suddenly spoke behind me.
“Gah!”
I nearly launched myself through the ceiling.
I spun around.
Lyra stood behind me with her hands on her hips.
“When did you—”
I stopped.
Because asking that question felt embarrassing.
Her eyebrow rose slightly.
“Nothing.”
“You were spying.”
I immediately turned away.
Like a child caught stealing candy.
The silence lasted several seconds.
Then I heard a faint chuckle.
I looked back.
Lyra looked amused.
Actually amused.
That was rare enough to qualify as a world event.
Then a terrible realization struck me.
I pointed at her.
“Wait a minute.”
Lyra blinked.
“What?”
“That’s my fault.”
She stared.
“…What?”
“The weapon art.”
I pointed accusingly.
“I gave that to you.”
Her expression remained completely blank.
“And?”
“And now you’re using it against me.”
The injustice was immeasurable.
“I practically created my own bully.”
A pause.
Then Lyra said,
“You gave me the manual.”
“Exactly.”
“You didn’t create the art.”
“Details.”
“You also haven’t read the manual.”
“…”
“…”
“That feels unnecessarily personal.”
The corner of her mouth twitched.
“You spent literally one second giving me an unknowngtade Weapon art.”
“Correct.”
“And zero minutes learning it.”
“…”
“…”
“Look, we all make mistakes.”
For the first time, Lyra actually laughed.
A small laugh.
But definitely a laugh.
I pointed dramatically.
“See?
This is what I mean.”
“What?”
“You’re getting stronger.”
“That’s usually how training works.”
“No.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“You’re getting stronger specifically at defeating me.”
Lyra considered that.
Then nodded.
“That is also true.”
I placed a hand over my chest.
“Betrayal.”
The amusement remained in her eyes for several seconds before she glanced toward the training platform.
“Do you want to spar?”
I blinked.
“Oh?”
“A problem?”
A grin spread across my face.
“No.”
Actually…
That sounded fun.
The System appeared.
[The host is about to suffer.]
‘I prefer optimism.’
[Reality prefers accuracy.]
I ignored it.
Mostly because it was probably right.
I walked toward a nearby weapon rack.
Various training weapons rested there.
Swords.
Spears.
Axes.
Daggers.
All of them were exceptional quality.
Which made sense.
Verona probably considered low-quality equipment a personal insult.
My gaze landed on a katana.
Simple.
Elegant.
Balanced.
I picked it up.
The weapon felt surprisingly comfortable in my hands.
I swung it experimentally.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
The blade sliced cleanly through the air.
Not bad.
“Using a sword?”
Lyra asked.
“I’ve always wanted to try one.”
“You’ve never trained with swords.”
“Details.”
“Those are important details.”
I ignored her.
Because she was correct.
And I hated that.
The truth was that most of my combat style revolved around overwhelming people with absurd abilities.
Blink.
Space manipulation.
Cosmic attacks.
Explosions.
More explosions.
Actual technique had never been particularly necessary.
Unfortunately, Verona had recently demonstrated exactly how terrible that strategy became against someone stronger.
We stepped onto opposite sides of the platform.
The atmosphere shifted instantly.
The playful mood disappeared.
Lyra raised her daggers.
I raised my katana.
Then she vanished.
Fast.
Far faster than I expected.
My instincts screamed.
I barely managed to react.
CLANG!
Sparks exploded.
The impact forced me backward.
My eyes widened.
She was strong.
Very strong.
But that wasn’t what surprised me.
It was how efficiently she moved.
Every attack flowed perfectly into the next.
No wasted energy.
No hesitation.
No openings.
Meanwhile, I was basically swinging based on instinct.
The difference became obvious immediately.
CLANG!
CLANG!
CLANG!
Each exchange pushed me farther backward.
The System appeared.
[The host is being educated.]
‘Again?’
[This appears to be a recurring theme.]
I hated how accurate it was.
I retaliated with a horizontal slash.
Lyra shifted slightly.
The strike missed.
One dagger redirected my blade.
The second stopped inches from my throat.
I froze.
“…”
“…”
“That seems bad.”
“It would be.”
“Fair.”
She stepped back.
The fight resumed.
This time I focused harder.
Watching.
Learning.
Adapting.
Gradually, things improved.
Not much.
But enough.
A few minutes later I managed to force her backward for the first time.
Success.
Temporary success.
Very temporary.
Silver energy gathered around her blade.
“[Echo Fall — Second Form: Echo Fang.]”
The world blurred.
A single thrust shot toward me.
Fast.
Too fast.
I barely raised my sword.
CLANG!
The strike connected.
Then another impact exploded through my guard.
My eyes widened.
The second strike hadn’t come from the dagger.
It came from sound itself.
The sonic force slammed into my chest.
I slid backward several meters.
“Ow.”
Lyra looked slightly pleased.
I pointed at her.
“You know what’s really unfair?”
“What?”
“I gave you that art.”
“You keep saying that.”
“And I’ll keep saying it until it stops being true.”
“It will always be true.”
I looked toward the ceiling.
“Verona, if you’re listening, I’d like to formally report a crime.”
Lyra raised an eyebrow.
“What crime?”
“I accidentally trained my future nemesis.”
For some reason, she looked even more pleased.
Which felt ominous.
Then she vanished again.
“[Echo Fall — Third Form: Silent Crescendo.]”
Silver flashes surrounded me.
One.
Three.
Seven.
Twelve.
The attacks came so quickly that the sounds couldn’t keep up.
All I saw were blades.
Then the noise arrived simultaneously.
BOOOOM!
The delayed shockwave exploded across the battlefield.
I stumbled backward.
Several fresh cuts decorated my uniform.
Nothing serious.
Just enough to wound my pride.
Lyra stood calmly several meters away.
Completely composed.
I looked down.
Then back at her.
“…That was rude.”
“It worked.”
“It was still rude.”
A faint smile appeared.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
Then she lowered her stance once more.
Silver energy flowed across the battlefield.
The echoes intensified.
“[Echo Fall — Fourth Form: Phantom Reverberation.]”
The entire room changed.
Suddenly there were five Lyra’s.
Then ten.
Then twenty.
False footsteps echoed everywhere.
Afterimages filled the battlefield.
Every movement looked real.
Every sound seemed genuine.
Every direction felt dangerous.
“What the hell?”
One Lyra attacked.
Then another.
Then three more.
I blocked instinctively.
Only for all of them to vanish.
A dagger suddenly appeared beside my neck.
The real one.
I froze.
Again.
The silence lingered.
Then Lyra stepped back.
The match was over.
I lowered my sword.
Breathing heavily.
She looked almost completely unaffected.
That was offensive.
Not Verona-level offensive.
But definitely offensive.
The System appeared.
[The host has been defeated.]
‘I noticed.’
[The host lasted longer than expected.]
‘Thank you.’
[The expectations were very low.]
‘Never mind.’
Lyra let go of her daggers and watched them turn into silver light .
“You improved.”
I blinked.
“That’s a compliment.”
“It is.”
“I’m writing that down.”
“You don’t need to.”
“I absolutely do.”
For a brief moment, she looked exasperated.
Then she turned toward the exit.
I followed behind her.
Despite losing, I couldn’t stop thinking.
Verona.
Lyra.
Their techniques.
Their mastery.
The difference between us.
I had power.
Talent.
Potential.
But they had something I lacked.
A path.
A weapon art.
A foundation.
As I watched Lyra walk ahead, a thought slowly formed.
We walked through the estate in silence.
For once, I wasn’t thinking about money.
A rare occurrence.
Possibly a historic one.
My thoughts kept drifting back to the fight.
Not because I lost.
Losing wasn’t exactly a new experience anymore.
Verona had made sure of that.
No.
What bothered me was why I lost.
Lyra wasn’t stronger than me.
At least not in terms of raw power.
If we compared affinities, abilities, destructive force, or potential, I was confident I had the advantage.
Yet somehow…
I had spent most of that fight getting dismantled.
Not because my attacks were weak.
Not because my reactions were slow.
Not because my abilities were lacking.
But because every movement she made had purpose.
Every step.
Every strike.
Every feint.
Every breath.
Everything connected together into a complete whole.
A system.
A path.
Meanwhile, I was basically throwing overwhelming force at my problems and hoping reality gave up first.
Which, admittedly, had worked surprisingly often.
The problem was that people like Verona existed.
People like Lyra existed.
Against opponents like that…
Talent wasn’t enough.
Power wasn’t enough.
Potential wasn’t enough.
Technique mattered.
Foundation mattered.
I glanced ahead.
Lyra walked calmly through the hallway.
Even now, every step looked deliberate.
Controlled.
Refined.
She possessed a Weapon Art.
Verona possessed a Weapon Art.
The strongest people I’d met all possessed something similar.
Something they had built.
Something that belonged to them.
And me?
I had skills.
Lots of skills
Somehow, despite all that, I still felt incomplete.
Like I was carrying pieces that didn’t quite fit together.
A Space Affinity.
A Star Affinity.
A collection of ridiculous abilities.
But no true path.
No style.
No foundation.
Nothing that was actually mine.
The realization annoyed me.
A lot.
‘Hey System.’
[Yes, Host?]
‘When am I getting my own Weapon Art?’
The answer arrived immediately.
[The host must complete a mission.]
I rolled my eyes.
‘Of course I do.’
[Did the host expect free rewards?]
‘Yes.’
[Why?]
‘Because I’m special.’
[The host is delusional.]
‘Tch.’
Then the System froze.
For half a second.
A familiar blue window appeared.
My steps stopped.
The System’s voice echoed inside my mind.
[Quest Generated]
[Dominate the Academy Entrance Exams]
[Reward: ???]
[Reward: Sword Art]
[Reward: Soul Weapon Awakening Potion]
My breathing stopped.
The hallway suddenly felt very quiet.
Soul Weapon Awakening Potion.
I stared at the words.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Making sure I wasn’t hallucinating.
A Soul Weapon.
Not a temporary boost.
Not a consumable.
Not some random item.
A Soul Weapon.
The manifestation of an Awakener’s soul.
The foundation of countless combat styles.
The thing that had made Verona terrifying.
The thing that had made Lyra deadly.
And now…
The System was offering me one.
Then my eyes shifted upward.
Sword Art.
Not a weapon art.
Not a random technique.
A complete Sword Art.
Something that could become my foundation.
Something that could become mine.
For the first time since arriving in this world…
I wasn’t thinking about survival.
I wasn’t thinking about money.
I wasn’t thinking about enemies.
I was thinking about the future.
A grin slowly spread across my face.
‘System.’
[Yes, Host?]
‘I think I just found my next victim.’
[…]
[The host means the Academy Entrance Exams.]
‘Did I stutter?’