The vibrations from two wooden swords clashing echoed throughout the training area; several guards curiously watched the duel occur in the center. Droplets of sweat dripped profusely from Raphael's forehead and trailed down to his chin. It wasn't like the usual duel against Paul, who fought at a distance, zoning out Raphael with each strike as he tried to close the gap. Instead, an unrelenting barrage of attacks from all directions pushed Raphael to the edge of the training arena.

David held the wooden training sword in one hand and kept the other in his pocket. During the duel, David closely watched Raphael's movements, analyzing each attack for any sign of intent. When he noticed the muscles in Raphael's wrist start to move, David quickly raised his arm and pointed his sword downwards, deflecting the incoming slash to the side.

It's decent at most.

That was the only thought in David's mind as he thrust the sword within his palm forward, exerting a quarter of his strength. It landed on Raphael's crossguard, knocking the sword out of his grip. Blood oozed out of Raphael's palm as the flesh bled open. A sharp, stinging sensation came from the newly opened wound as Raphael watched the sword spin in the air multiple times before landing on the ground near Claire.

"It's not bad, but it's not exactly good either." David gave a simple evaluation while pointing the bladed end of the wooden sword beside Raphael's throat and said, "If this was a real battle, you would already be dead."

"That's not fair! You're an adult, so of course I would lose!" Raphael couldn't help but complain while staring at his bloody palm and added, "If it was Arthur, he would probably lose too."

"Well…not exactly; if it was Arthur, he would probably try to make it a battle of attrition." Paul chimed in while recalling their duel. It was fair to say that Raphael was around the standard for children, as Arthur was an outlier. "Anyways, do you have anything else to add?"

Upon seeing Paul look at him, David glanced at the sword lying on the ground and said, "Don't ever let go of your sword. For swordsmen, it's practically a death sentence."

"My sword?" Raphael stared at the sword that lay on the ground motionless. It had been covered by a small layer of dust that settled on the surface facing the sky when it landed.

"Yes, if your odds of winning are slim with your weapon, then it's nearly zero without it," David replied, placing the two training swords on the weapon rack.

As Raphael remained still, examining his wound. David stared at Raphael's physique to see if he could find any starting points for him. During the duel, his legs couldn't withstand the strikes and were the first to give out as his stance broke.

"You need to work on your body's foundation and build muscle. Once that is done, practice the basics of swordplay. That means vertical slashes, horizontal slashes, and thrusting," David advised.

"Will that really help me get stronger?" In the back of Raphael's mind, a small doubt formed. After all, how would practicing three motions make all the difference?

"You'll be surprised, Raphael; it's easy to start but hard to stay consistent."

The new voice caused them all to turn their heads as they observed a young boy with black hair whose tips were white walk up to them. Arthur stepped on the edge of the wooden training sword, flipping it onto his right foot's tip before kicking it into the air. In one fluid motion, he caught the sword's hilt with his left hand and walked towards Raphael, who grumbled.

"Show off…" Raphael grabbed the wooden sword as Arthur held it towards him and bitterly said, "Thanks."

Silence fell on Raphael as a tightness in his chest grew stronger. Every time he trained and dueled with the other guards, he heard the same thing. If it had been Arthur, the result would have been different; he wouldn't have lost, and those comments dug into his self-esteem.

"No problem," Arthur's hand landed on Raphael's back as he walked past and joined the other guards. "What are all you guys doing together?"

"We're training Raphaelie boy on how to properly use his muscles." Paul's arm moved upwards as it bent at a forty-five-degree angle, flexing his bicep to demonstrate the well-defined muscles forged through the flames of discipline. "Ah, that reminds me. David can also teach you swordsmanship now that he's back."

Arthur thought about it but soon shook his head to decline the offer and calmly said, "I want to learn spearmanship instead."

"Are you sure? It seems like you have a talent for swordsmanship instead of spearmanship." Paul asked, but upon Arthur's firm denial, a small sigh of disappointment escaped his lips. If anything, Paul had secretly hoped that Arthur would pursue swordsmanship so that he could fight him at his fullest potential.

"It's okay; I'm not really interested in using a sword." Arthur's reassurance caused David to click his tongue, but Arthur simply laughed it off and added, "I want to be able to use any weapon in case I don't have one of them."

"In case you don't have them, you say?" Paul nodded at the reasoning.

With a step forward, he grabbed hold of two iron spears and tossed one at Arthur, who quickly caught it in one hand. Unlike the spears used during their first fight, the new iron spears had bladed tips along with winged ends extending outwards from the spearhead's base.

"I can't teach you much because most of my techniques only work with the usage of divinity, but maybe you can figure something out with aura while we spar," Paul said.

"That's fine with me." Arthur smiled

The spear danced within Arthur's palm as he spun it around multiple times before tightly gripping it with both hands. In an instant, the spear lunged forward as Arthur extended both arms towards Paul.

"I'm not foolish enough to fall for a mere distraction like that," Paul smirked while taking a step back.

The tip of Arthur's spear wedged itself into the gap between Paul's spear blade and winged end before quickly being guided to the side as a half crescent formed from the ground to the clouds. In a seamless movement, Paul drew a downward slash that would have split Arthur in half but instead cut through thin air, causing a small smile to form on Paul's face.

"I can't tell if I should be impressed or disappointed at how quick you are to run," Paul calmly said.

As Arthur grabbed onto the end of his spear with his right hand, small droplets of blood fell from his left cheek and onto the ground, revealing a crimson vertical line. The moment he lost control of his weapon meant that the flow of the battle was in favor of Paul, and with that in mind, Arthur retreated several steps while loosening his grip on the shaft of the iron spear.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

In an attempt to create distance between them, the spear in Arthur's hand swept across the open space as Arthur's body rotated to the left, yet despite the intentions, it remained fixed in place as Paul took a step forward and leaned in to intercept the swing with his left forearm.

"Grit your teeth." The words that came out of Paul's mouth caused a shiver to run down Arthur's spine as he stared at the man before him.

To his surprise, Paul had thrown his spear into the air, casting a large shadow that blocked the light from the sun. In his free hand, a faint golden glow engulfed it. Before Arthur could react, a ringing sound resonated throughout his ears as Paul's right fist struck the left side of his face, sending his body sliding several meters to the side.

The dust from the trail created by Arthur's feet dragging on the arena's floor caused David's eyes to narrow in astonishment. A solid white energy covered the entirety of the boy's body, and even though the color was different, it was apparent to him what it was.

A smirk appeared on Mark's face as he watched David, who was stunned and said, "Yeah, I was pretty shocked as well when I first saw that brat do that."

"How can he use aura?" David questioned as the energy released from Arthur solidified around the winged iron spear. "If he was sixteen, it would make more sense because the academy would have taught him, but he's too young."

"We're assuming that someone far more experienced in aura taught him how to use it, and most likely, that fucking lunatic used some extreme measures." Mark's reply caused a frown to linger like a shadow over David's face.

"How extreme?" The discontent grew on David's face when he heard this. From how Arthur carried himself, it was hard to tell if there were any issues at first glance.

"Maybe some life and death situations?" A forced laugh escaped Mark, who resentfully cursed under his breath.

"Then we shouldn't let Arthur fight anymore. We should be protecting him." David found the situation's absurdity challenging to cope with the more he listened to it. The mere idea of a child being forced into life-and-death situations to awaken aura early left a sour taste.

"That's not for you to decide." Mark didn't even bother entertaining David's idea once he heard it; in truth, the thought crossed him once or twice, but it was too much of a waste to shelter Arthur. Instead, after consulting with Paul, their best solution was to refine Arthur into a warrior who could fend for themselves.

Arthur braced himself as the exchanges against Paul left vibrations throughout the training arena. His arms felt numb against the weapon embedded with divinity, and if there was one thing he noticed, it was that he couldn't use his full strength against Paul.

The end of Paul's spear struck the midsection of Arthur's spear, pushing it to the left as an opening was created. Despite the vulnerability, Arthur changed his grip on the spear, swapping his main hand, and used the force that pushed his initial attack to the side as momentum while driving the blunt end of the spear into Paul's shoulder.

As a large purple bruise exposed itself from the impact of Arthur's attack, a trace of worry flashed across his eyes but was soon discarded as Paul hooked onto the back of Arthur's waist with his spear and flung him to the edge of the arena.

"You shouldn't be worrying about your opponent in a fight," Paul criticized.

With a light tap on his shoulder, the bruise slowly faded, returning Paul's skin to its normal tan color. The divine energy on his fingertips briefly shined before dissipating into the wind.

In a carefree tone, Paul praised, "It wasn't a bad idea to use the end momentum of my deflection to launch an attack, but it was foolish for you to assume that such an attack would faze me."

Arthur dug into the ground with the spear's end to decrease the throw's velocity before landing on both feet. At first, it seemed like Paul's body was immensely durable, but that wasn't the only factor. Unlike Arthur's body, which had several cuts and bruises, Paul's physique was nearly in perfect condition.

"Don't you think that's cheating?" Witnessing the wounds heal on the spot made Arthur change his stance. One arm was held out, and the other held onto the spear and bent backward while keeping it on the same level as his head.

Paul shrugged and said, "There's no such thing as cheating in a fight."

Paul smirked as he saw the stance and understood its intention. With both knees slightly bent and one foot a step before the other, Paul inclined his spear toward the ground and waited for Arthur to make the first move.

In a flash, the spear soared out of Arthur's grasp. His body lunged forward and flew towards Paul. The winged spear cut through the open space and blew dust throughout the arena as it entered Paul's zone of control. The trajectory was straightforward as Paul examined the attack for any anomalies, but upon realizing that there were none. He swung his spear upwards, drawing a quarter of an arc as the golden light collided against the silver object that rushed at him. Sparks flew in all directions as the two iron objects met, causing a metallic clang to echo into the surroundings. The collision tore the air apart, and the sound lingered in the atmosphere. Paul's eyes focused on Arthur.

Soon, Arthur would make his next move, and with his spear spinning in the air above him, Paul predicted that an aerial strike was next. His eyes frantically scanned the skies for Arthur's figure, but all that remained was the iron spear engulfed in a white aura.

A sudden gust of wind blew towards Paul, bringing his gaze back to the ground as Arthur stood before him. In a blink of an eye, Arthur had closed the gap and grabbed ahold of Paul's spear with one hand. The next moment, Arthur leaned inwards with all his might as he pulled the golden weapon behind him and buried his elbow into Paul's ribcage.

Crimson liquid flowed down from the corner of Paul's mouth as his body refused to give Arthur an inch of ground. The muscles in Paul's arm tightened, mustering the entirety of his raw strength. Yet, betraying his intentions, the spear remained frozen in place as Arthur's grip hardened.

Fascination portrayed itself on Paul's face; however, it was swiftly drowned out by the sound of a blade cutting through the air as he released his weapon and leaped backward to the end of the arena. Dust clouds hung in the space where Paul once stood, sending fragments of stone and dirt scattering everywhere from the newly created crater. In the center of the crater was the ivory-winged spear that was blown into the sky during the initial engagement.

"Ho…" Paul examined the spear's appearance and watched it slowly ascend from the ground, freeing itself from the earth's hold. It then pointed itself directly at Paul while hovering in midair, shining brightly beside Arthur, who tossed the other iron spear back at Paul.

Arthur raised his hands tightly, clenching them with a grin, and calmly asked, "Ready to continue?"

With the back of his hand, Paul wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. A look of amazement followed by pleasant laughter resonated throughout the arena. Paul stared at Mark, who shook his head, signaling for them to stop, and answered, "No, this is good enough. I believe you've developed an interesting fighting style at this point."

"I wouldn't call it interesting because it doesn't have any flashy moves." In an instant, the aura that levitated the spear vanished, allowing Arthur to catch the shaft of the weapon from its free fall. "How did you weaken my attacks?"

"Oh, that's simple. That's because each weapon has a breakpoint where energy is released at its fullest potential." Paul placed the iron-winged spear in the training rack and said, "Since spears are staff weapons to some extent, the main breakpoints of energy are usually at the ends of the weapon. Depending on the technique, they will be in the middle in some cases, but it's less common."

"Is that why you always intercepted my attacks away from the end?" Arthur asked while mimicking the moment Paul leaned into his attack and blocked with his forearm.

"Precisely." Paul nodded before asking, "Can you control more than one object at a time?"

"I don't know, I haven't tried to be honest." It was an interesting idea to Arthur, but first, he needed to improve his proficiency in using one weapon before using multiple. "If I had to guess, I probably could, but I want to master one first. It feels unnatural, if you know what I mean."

How many would he be able to control?

Paul agreed with the reasoning, but a keen interest rose as he played out the possible situations in his head. If Arthur could muster hundreds…no, thousands—of weapons at once, then the birth of a new legend would appear. The mere thought made Paul grin in excitement. His expectations were high, but it wasn't in the realm of impossibility.