The “Core Resonance” arena in the academy was unlike ordinary training halls; it resembled a cosmic laboratory.
The ceilings were towering, and its walls coated in black “Vire” metal absorbed every echo, making Samy’s footsteps sound like an omen of doom.
Today’s objective was “Manifesting Will.” In this world, a weapon is not merely steel; it is an extension of the Aura, a mirror of its owner’s soul.
The students around him were struggling intensely—one was drenched in sweat trying to condense fire Aura into a spear, while another attempted to expel “Pulse” energy from her veins to form a shield.
On the other side of the arena, Kaelin was showing off.
His Pulse Aura surrounded him like a roaring golden shroud, and his voice echoed across the hall in a condescending tone:
“Such a shame… the academy has started accepting anyone. Samy Koo? Who do you think you are? Dual Aura doesn’t make you special—it makes you a biological error that hasn’t been corrected yet.”
Samy did not respond.
He was looking at his hands.
He did not see a golden aura or a flame; he saw “emptiness.”
In Samy’s mental void, Lyra sat in a crouched position, resting her chin on her hand, watching the scene with boredom, then suddenly burst into laughter:
“Oh, look, Veldrak, this idiot thinks screaming makes a warrior. Should I make him forget how to tie his shoes? That would be fun!”
Veldrak, who was sharpening an invisible sword in a corner of the shadows, lifted his head.
His red eyes glowed with lethal coldness, and he spoke in a voice that felt like it came from the depths of the earth:
“Don’t waste time, Lyra. His existence pollutes the arena’s air. I will erase him.”
“No,” Samy murmured inwardly, his voice firm despite his exhaustion.
“Seraphine, what did you say?”
Seraphine, leaning against the void’s wall, whispered softly like silk:
“Samy, don’t try to forge a weapon like a sculptor. The weapon already exists in the fabric of the world—you just need to tear the veil. Use Eclipse. Don’t build. Cut.”
Samy moved.
He did not assume a classic combat stance; his posture looked “wrong,” as if he did not belong to the gravity of this room.
“Prepare yourself,” Kaelin said, lunging forward, his Pulse Aura condensing into his fist.
At that moment, Samy summoned Eclipse.
The weapon did not appear as light or flash—it appeared as a “rupture.” The space where his hand was tore open as if the world itself were fabric and Samy had sliced it.
The blade emerged.
As soon as it appeared, darkness began to flow from it—black ink-like threads rising and circling it slowly.
The darkness drifted around the blade, cutting through particles of air, making anything it passed through momentarily “nonexistent.”
When Kaelin reached him, Samy swung once, calmly.
There was no sound of impact.
What happened was horrifying: the blade of Eclipse did not touch Kaelin—it touched the “reality” Kaelin stood in.
Kaelin’s golden aura split in half like a page being cut from a magazine.
He fell to his knees, not from pain, but from loss of balance; Samy had erased the part of reality that supported Kaelin’s existence at that point.
A suffocating silence filled the arena.
In the stands, Celine stood with her hand over her mouth.
She was not watching training—she was witnessing an “excision” of reality.
“I forgot…” she whispered, her voice trembling.
“I got so immersed in the laws of physics that I forgot weapons are not tools… they are holes in this universe.”
In the mental void, Lyra clapped hysterically:
“Oh my god! Look at his face! He went from arrogant to stupid in one second!”
Veldrak stopped sharpening his sword and looked at Samy with strange approval:
“Decay control is becoming more precise. He is not tearing the world… he is only tearing the void around it.”
Seraphine smiled—and that smile was the most dangerous thing in the room:
“Now… the academy will start asking questions we have no answers for.”
Samy stood still, the sword trembling in his hand, darkness whispering words no human could understand.
He looked at Kaelin, then up at Celine.
For the first time, he did not feel like a “student.”
He felt like an “entity” wearing student clothes.
“Are we done?” Samy asked calmly, as Eclipse faded, leaving behind a scent of ozone and cosmic dust.
A heavy silence filled the “Core Resonance” hall, broken only by Kaelin’s ragged breathing as he stared at the space where his shield had been erased.
There was no destruction in the traditional sense—no shattered metal—but there was “absence.” A small white void where his golden defense once existed, as if that portion of reality had been deleted and hastily patched back together.
On the elevated faculty platform, Director Aurelius stood motionless, his gray eyes unblinking since the blade appeared.
Beside him, the other professors exchanged shaken glances; the weapon Samy had created followed none of the known laws of Aura manifestation taught for centuries. The source of this chapter is novelping . com.
Celine, standing at the edge of the arena, felt coldness seep into her veins.
But it was not fear—it was the shiver of discovery.
Her initial shock faded, replaced by that mad spark of a scientist touching absolute truth.
Slowly, she turned toward the platform, where the professors and director waited for an explanation—or perhaps for her to disown this “threat.”
Celine smiled calmly.
Too calmly.
A smile that was unsettling in its serenity.
“Celine?” the director called softly, struggling to hide his disturbance.
“This… this does not follow any known manifestation model. It tears the stability of reality itself. Do you understand the danger this talent represents?”
She did not look at him.
Her eyes remained fixed on Samy, who was sheathing his blade into the void.
She took a deep breath, then said with a confident smile that echoed through the hall:
“Danger? No, Director.”
She stepped forward, her presence overflowing with frightening certainty.
“This is evolution. All these years, we’ve been teaching them to build castles out of sand… while he has always known how to dive into the ocean’s depths.”
She looked at the stunned professors one by one and continued sharply:
“You thought I had lost my mind when I chose him. But I knew I hadn’t found a student… I had found a breaker of chains. Don’t look at him as a mystery to be solved. Look at him as the teacher of everything you think you know.”
She turned toward Samy, her gaze carrying a strange mix of pride and mystery meeting his eyes.
“In a low voice, audible to everyone, she declared:
“This… is my student.”
The words were not a statement—they were a claim.
A binding of identity.
In that moment, everyone realized Celine was no longer Samy’s instructor; she had become the guardian of his secret, the one who would guide him—whether toward salvation… or toward burning the world.
Chaos erupted among the students, but Samy did not care.
He could feel Lyra laughing inside him, and Veldrak nodding in silent approval.
Celine was the only one who had seen the black thread connecting him to the throne—and yet she did not cut it.
She chose to hold it with him.