After class, everyone filed out of the room to head to their respective tutors. Elara, however, lingered behind, her gaze fixed on Ms. Janet. As the last student left, she approached the teacher’s desk with measured steps.
“Ms. Janet, I have a question,” Elara said, standing just before the desk, her voice calm but with a slight edge to it. Ms. Janet, ever the warm and approachable figure, looked up with a kind smile.
“Yes, please ask, dear. That’s what I’m here for,” she replied, her tone inviting, though there was an air of unspoken curiosity in her gaze.
Elara hesitated for a moment, gathering her thoughts before she spoke. “Well, I’d like to learn about the Forgotten Continent. Is it possible for you to teach us about it tomorrow?”
Ms. Janet raised an eyebrow, her smile still in place but now tinged with a bit of surprise. “Oh, is that a request? Well, I’ll see what I can do. Is that all?”
“No, I also wanted to ask about magic,” Elara continued, her eyes narrowing slightly as she pressed on. “Most people in this world need magical circles to control their magic, but it seems most of my classmates don’t need them. Could you explain why that is?”
Ms. Janet leaned back in her chair, her fingers tapping lightly on the desk as she considered the question. “Well, Elara, talent plays a huge role in everything,” she began thoughtfully, her voice taking on a more serious tone. “As much as someone can achieve great things using their own power, everyone has a certain limit they cannot surpass. Take the Emperor, for example—he’s arguably the most powerful being in our world after the Vermillion King, but even he’s reached his peak. He can never grow beyond that. So, to answer your question, your classmates are simply more talented than most. That’s all, sweetie. I hope that clears things up for you.”
Elara’s lips curled into a tight smile as she nodded. “It does. Thank you, Ms. Janet,” she said, her voice now laced with a touch of forced politeness as she turned to leave.
But as soon as the door clicked shut behind her, Elara’s face darkened. Her shoulders tensed, and her thoughts spiraled into frustration.
‘Bloody whore. I ask a simple question, and she thinks I need a lesson in storytelling. Does she really think I’m not smart enough to understand the answer? That’s what I hate about these people here. They have no idea who I am. I’m Elara Winters, for heaven’s sake. I’m a boss bitch, and they’re all too damn stupid to realize it.’
Her fists clenched at her sides as she walked down the hallway, heading toward her tutor. She wasn’t the type to let anything slide, especially not a trivial thing like this.
On the other side of the building, Kael was hard at work. His muscles strained with each swing of his sword as he trained under the watchful eye of his tutor, Edward Jones, one of the most renowned swordsmen in the world. Edward, a member of the national guard, was a tall man with a presence that demanded respect. His movements were precise and efficient, every strike and parry a testament to years of intense training.
Kael’s swings were wild, each one lacking the finesse that Edward had come to expect from a proper swordsman. Despite his raw strength and stamina, Kael’s technique was abysmal, and it showed in every sloppy movement. Edward’s sharp eyes didn’t miss a single misstep.
‘How is he supposed to be the God of Swords if he can’t even defend himself against me?’ Edward thought, frustration building within him. ‘There’s something he’s hiding, and I’ll get to the bottom of this. No one’s this incompetent, not with that reputation.’
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Edward’s grip tightened around his own sword, his eyes narrowing with resolve. He needed to push Kael further, to see what lay beneath the surface of this clearly troubled student. Without warning, Edward launched a calculated strike, swift and precise. In one clean motion, he disarmed Kael and sent him crashing to the floor with a thud.
“Fuck!!!” Kael’s voice was full of rage and frustration as he slapped the floor in anger, his face flushed with humiliation. Edward stood over him, offering a hand, but Kael slapped it away with a growl.
“I’m done for the day,” Kael spat, his voice seething with unspoken bitterness. He pushed himself off the ground and stormed off, leaving Edward standing there, his disappointment palpable in the air between them.
As Kael made his way back to the dormitory, a large, stone building within the castle gates, he felt the weight of failure pressing down on him. The building itself was well-kept, its stone walls worn but sturdy, offering an imposing yet comforting sense of security. But none of that mattered now. Kael’s mind was preoccupied with the crushing weight of his own limitations, the frustration that gnawed at him every time he faced defeat.
When he reached the hallway, he passed Freya Alden, a girl whose sharp wit and knowing smirk never seemed to leave her. As Kael walked by, she let out a small, almost mocking chuckle. He couldn’t ignore it.
“What’s funny?!” he snapped, his voice laced with irritation as he turned to face her.
Freya didn’t stop laughing, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she looked him up and down. She paused for a moment, savoring the tension in the air before replying, “Well, you of course. After stealing Travis’s ability, you’d think you’d be as strong as he was destined to be, but I guess that was an overstatement.”
With that, she turned and continued down the hall, her laughter echoing in the silence, leaving Kael standing there, fuming.
Kael’s face twisted in anger as he turned on his heel, muttering curses under his breath. He stormed into his room, slamming the door behind him. Alone now, the floodgates of his rage opened. He ripped the closest piece of furniture from its place, throwing it across the room, only to do the same with the next. His frustration boiled over, and he didn’t stop until every single item in the room was broken or shattered.
His breath was ragged as he stood amid the wreckage, his heart pounding. The room was a mess, a reflection of the chaos swirling inside him.
Kael stood amidst the chaos of his room, breathing heavily, his fists clenched tight. "Fuck, let me think," he muttered under his breath. His mind raced as the frustration bubbled over.
“I only stole Travis’s innate ability, but I didn’t steal his talent… that’s why the fuck I’m still weak when it comes to swordsmanship.” The realization hit him hard, the truth slicing deeper than any blade ever could. His rage, which had been simmering beneath the surface, intensified as the weight of his inadequacy pressed down on him.
Without thinking, Kael summoned a sword, his hands trembling with raw anger. In one fluid motion, he hurled the weapon toward the door, his eyes narrowing as it sliced through the air with deadly precision. It collided with the wood with a loud crash, splintering the doorframe.
From the hallway, Rowan, who had come to check on Kael, dodged the oncoming blade with an agility that was second nature to him. ‘Wow, he’s angrier than ever,’ Rowan thought, his eyes widening briefly before he calmly opened the door.
“Kael. What’s the problem now?” Rowan asked, stepping into the room without so much as a glance at the wreckage surrounding them.
“Edward said you cut your lessons short,” he added, his voice calm but with a hint of concern.
Kael barely acknowledged him at first, his eyes still locked on the destruction around him.
“It’s nothing. I just miss home,” he said, the words spilling out like a reflex, but it was a lie, obvious even to someone as detached as Rowan.
Rowan didn’t press him further, sensing Kael's mood, but as Kael opened his system interface, something caught his eye. At the bottom of the screen, two new buttons appeared, both marked with ‘STEAL TALENT.’
His heart skipped a beat as he focused on them, his mind racing.
One option was labeled [PERMANENTLY STEAL TALENT] and the other [STEAL TALENT].
The difference was clear: the first would strip the talent from the person he stole it from permanently, while the second allowed him to steal the talent without taking it from them.
Kael’s lips curled into a maddened grin, his eyes gleaming with wild determination. ‘What? My steal ability is back… and it got an upgrade.’ His hands shook as he read over the options.
‘I can now have the talent of the world’s strongest man. What could be better than that? Hahahaha!’
Without hesitation, Kael pressed the second button—[STEAL TALENT].
The transformation was immediate. His entire body convulsed, his muscles spasming in agony as the new power surged through him. His mind twisted in pain, his senses overwhelmed by the force of the talent being ripped from Rowan and transferred to him. But Kael gritted his teeth, enduring it, refusing to flinch even as his bones seemed to shift and his blood seemed to burn.
When it finally stopped, the pain faded, leaving Kael standing there, breathing heavily but with a newfound clarity. His body felt different—stronger, faster, more controlled. He smiled, a wicked, satisfied grin spreading across his face.
"But I feel alright now," he muttered to himself, his voice now steadier. “I should go apologize to him,” he said, glancing at Rowan, who was watching him closely.
Rowan, sensing the change, smiled and gave a small nod of approval. “Good. Now go and get stronger, tiger. The world needs a powerful swordsman.”
Kael’s grin only grew wider as he turned to leave.
‘And a powerful swordsman they will receive,’ he thought, his confidence surging with the newfound power coursing through his veins. The world better be ready for what was coming.
TO BE CONTINUED