"What is aura? Just as wizards use mana to cast spells, practitioners of close combat arts also use aura. Whether wielding swords, spears, or even ranged weapons, individuals can enhance their abilities through aura. Wizards manipulate freely circulating mana around them to cast spells, employing methods like magical incantations or spell circles. In contrast, aura users store aura within their bodies, gradually condensing it to form 'Stars,' which are aura cores. A person's strength can be gauged by their star level, but having fewer stars doesn’t necessarily mean defeat against someone with more. Power isn’t solely determined by numbers but also by how aura is applied and controlled."

Lucian pondered anxiously, unsure how to respond to Marquis Arthur’s probing question about his use of aura. His mind raced, weighing his options carefully.

Recognizing Lucian's thoughtful and somewhat troubled expression, Marquis Arthur softened his tone. "You don’t need to worry too much. After all, you’re just a child, no matter how talented you are. It’s understandable if you don’t fully grasp such concepts yet."

Lucian breathed an internal sigh of relief. "I dodged a bullet there."

Marquis Arthur: "Nevertheless," he continued, "if I allow you more solitary practice, you might repeat those mistakes. So, starting tomorrow, you will join sword training as well."

"Sword training! Finally, I can focus on my training freely. No more sneaking around… as long as there aren’t any more smelly accidents."

Before Lucian could celebrate internally, Uther interrupted with a smug tone, "I absolutely disagree with this, Father. Do you really think he can even lift a sword in his current chubby state?"

Lucian shot back, frustrated, "Can’t keep your mouth shut, can you? I must do something about this. If they take away my training, I’ll have to practice in secret again. Now that they know I can use aura, it’ll be even harder. They’ll never let a little kid risk his life training aura in secret!" He braced himself to argue.

But Marquis Arthur raised his hand, silencing them both. "You’re right, Uther. Using a real sword would indeed be challenging for Lucian at this stage. That’s why I’ve arranged for a special tutor to accommodate his needs."

"A special tutor? That means even less time for my boxing training!"

Desperate, Lucian spoke up, "Marquis, my brother Uther is right. My body is still too weak for sword practice. If possible, I’d prefer to focus solely on aura training for a while."

But Marquis Arthur dismissed his request firmly. "Enough. Your first lesson begins tomorrow." His tone brooked no argument. The table fell into a tense silence, the only sound that remained was the clinking of silverware as they continued their meal.

Lucian ate in silence, his mind swirling with anxiety and frustration. "What if I lose time for my boxing practice? What if I fall behind in aura development because of this?"

After the meal, Lucian retreated to his room. The long, echoing hallways felt even colder as memories of his mother’s death flooded his mind. Cynthia’s presence was the only comfort he had left in this household.

Lucian’s room was large, furnished elegantly with a deep blue theme. His bed was oversized for his small frame, but that made it all the more comforting, especially since he often slept with Cynthia beside him. The room was bathed in soft light from a crystal chandelier overhead, and the pale blue walls gave the space a calm, serene atmosphere.

A silver-framed photograph of his family sat on his nightstand, next to a bottle of water and a glass. The room also had a large wardrobe with mirrors, though Lucian’s short stature meant he could only see his reflection if he stood on tiptoes. Nearby was an old writing desk cluttered with books, parchments, and an inkwell. The velvet curtains hanging over the windows barely let in the moonlight from outside, casting a peaceful glow over the room. A soft rug added warmth to the otherwise cold stone floor beneath the window.

Cynthia’s modest bed was positioned in one corner of the room. Simple yet cozy, it was draped with a thin blanket, and next to it sat a trunk containing her personal belongings and a few colorful pieces of fabric for her handiwork.

As Lucian lay in his oversized bed, he listened to Cynthia’s quiet breathing beside him. The room, dimly lit by the moonlight filtering through the curtains, became his sanctuary for meditation. He waited for Cynthia to fall asleep before slipping into a meditative state, his thoughts calming as the tranquility of the night enveloped him.

Lucian thought about Cynthia’s loyalty to him. "She’s been with me since I was born… but why does she care so much? It’s as if she’s always been by my side." He remembered the story Cynthia had once told him about how Marquis Arthur had saved her, fostering a deep sense of debt and loyalty. She had lost her family at a young age, and, perhaps because of that, she viewed Lucian almost as a surrogate family member.

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Flashback: Cynthia’s Salvation

Years ago, on a rainy day in a poor village, Marquis Arthur was passing through on business. The streets were flooded with mud, and the villagers huddled inside their small huts, seeking shelter from the cold rain. Amidst the dreariness, Arthur noticed a group of children, their wrists bound in chains, standing in the rain—victims of slave traders.

Arthur approached the slave traders with a stern look. Among the children, one small, frail girl stood out. Her hair was soaked through, and her large, fearful eyes pleaded silently for help. This girl was Cynthia.

"How much for this girl?" he asked, his voice calm but commanding.

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"This one? Weak, frail… not much use. I’ll let her go for 5 gold coins."

Without hesitation, Arthur handed the coins to the trader, who released Cynthia from her chains and handed her over. Arthur knelt down, looking her in the eyes. His stern face softened as he spoke.

"Don’t worry, you’re safe now. What’s your name?"

Cynthia, trembling, barely whispered, "C-Cynthia."

Arthur took her back with him, away from the village and the life of slavery. When they reached his estate, he entrusted her to the care of the head servant, giving his orders clearly.

"Take care of this girl as if she were family. From now on, she is one of us."

Under the care of the head servant, Cynthia grew up well, nurtured and educated. Over the years, her gratitude for Marquis Arthur’s kindness grew into a deep loyalty, and when she became Lucian’s personal maid, she saw him as more than a charge—he was the family she had lost.

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As Lucian lay in bed, his eyelids growing heavy, he glanced over at Cynthia, whose breathing had slowed into the steady rhythm of sleep. "Finally, she’s asleep! She never falls asleep before me. I always have to pretend to sleep first, and a few times, I even accidentally fell asleep for real."

Now, Lucian could focus. He slipped back into his meditative state, focusing on his aura. The calmness of the room, the quiet night, and the dim moonlight gave him the perfect setting to refine his aura skills. "I have a long road ahead of me, but I won’t stop. I will master aura… and my boxing."

Lucian wriggled free from Cynthia's embrace, crawling to the edge of the bed with the stealth of a small shadow. Using the bedsheets like a makeshift rope, he carefully descended to the floor, the cool touch of the stone beneath his feet a reminder of the silent night around him. The pale glow of the moon filtered through the window, casting a gentle light across the room as Lucian assumed a meditation pose near the window.

"Right now, I’m a user of a starry aura. To reach this stage with my small, frail body, I’ve had to eat a lot, which explains the extra weight, but I’m still just a child. In a few years, I’ll be able to train properly and strengthen my body. But if I don’t want to end up bald like Coach, I need to follow a strict threshold for my training every day: 99 push-ups, 99 squats, 99 sit-ups, and a 9-kilometer run! Coach used to say that if I did 100 of these every day, I might be cursed with baldness. Can’t have that!"

Clearing his mind of these thoughts, Lucian began to review his knowledge about aura.

"Aura users gather mana from their surroundings and compress it into 'Stars,' which they engrave onto their hearts. Aura, in essence, is highly concentrated mana, and controlling it requires a strong body and a healthy heart. But with my tiny, frail heart, could I really handle the strain of an aura star? Certainly not. That’s why I ate so much. I expanded my stomach, using it as a temporary mana reservoir. Instead of forcing a star into my heart, I stored as much mana as I could in my stomach and eventually compressed it into my first star."

Focusing deeply, Lucian sensed the star he had stored in his stomach.

"Having more stars might make you stronger, but does that truly measure your strength? Not entirely. Beginners can use aura to strengthen their bodies, and as they advance, they can imbue aura into their weapons or create protective barriers. Most focus on enhancing their weapons' power, which is certainly effective. But is that all there is? When I first learned about aura, I thought—what if I develop a new technique for boxing?"

Lucian stood up, assuming a defensive stance as he adjusted his posture carefully.

"Remember when I mentioned strengthening the body with aura? That’s essentially making the heart pump faster, forcing more blood into the muscles, which creates a momentary 'overheating' state. But doing this for too long can cause the heart to burst. That’s why people limit how much aura they use, even if they have stars. But what if I didn’t just rely on my heart? What if I transferred aura to my muscles, bones, and even my organs? The strongest aura users have tried, but their bodies couldn’t handle it. However, I’m still developing, and my body is more malleable. What if I replaced my blood with mana, and instead of my heart, used a star to pump that mana into my body?"

Placing his left hand under his chin, Lucian shifted his stance, balancing on his feet with his right hand ready.

"That day, I risked everything. I gave up relying on my heart and blood and focused on forming a star in my stomach. Since then, I’ve channeled mana into my veins every second, making my entire body a reservoir of mana. My heart is no longer what fuels me. My aura star does."

Lucian began his meditation, breathing deeply as he felt the aura within him. The mana stored in his stomach flowed throughout his body like a warm, steady current. He gathered his thoughts, preparing to direct the energy carefully.

"This is my first attempt at this technique. Let’s hope it works."

With his body poised, Lucian gathered all his energy for a right jab. As he unleashed the punch, a cloud of dust erupted in the room. When the dust settled, Lucian gasped in disbelief—the entire wall in front of him had vanished.

"I-I might have gone a bit too far…" he muttered, staring at the gaping hole in the wall.

Realizing that the noise might wake Cynthia and alert the guards, Lucian did the only thing a three-year-old could do—he started crying as loudly as possible, hoping to divert suspicion.

"Come on, Lucian, you’re only three years old. Crying is your ultimate defense!"

As soon as Cynthia woke up and noticed the crying Lucian on the floor, she immediately rushed to pick him up, worried for his safety. The guards were already on their way to investigate the explosion, but Cynthia hurried Lucian out of the room, shielding him from any questions. The guards inspected the area, suspecting an assassination attempt, and stationed themselves outside Lucian’s and Cynthia’s quarters.

"They think it was an assassination attempt? Perfect! No one would believe a three-year-old could do something like this." With an impudent grin, he drifted off to sleep in Cynthia’s arms, satisfied with his success.

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A new day dawned upon Wintergate Manor.

"I’m lucky I didn’t get caught last night. According to the guards, they suspect an attack. There’s no way anyone would think a three-year-old did this, but still, I need to be more careful. It seems Father has increased the number of guards in the manor. I can’t afford to make another mistake. But… I can’t believe it worked! Risking my life on that punch was worth it. Boxing saved me in my first life, and now, it’s going to help me conquer this second one too!"

Just then, Cynthia gently opened the door and peeked into Lucian’s room.

"Master Lucian, your sword training is about to begin, and you’re still in bed!" she called out with a hint of worry.

Lucian bolted upright. "Oh no! I forgot about the training!" he muttered. His body still felt weak from the previous night’s experiment. He had almost depleted his mana reserves.

"I was planning to rest and meditate today… I’ll have to recover if I want to survive."

Seeing that Lucian was still unprepared, Cynthia approached him with a playful but stern expression.

"Master Lucian…"

"C-Cynthia? Why are you looking at me like that?" Lucian slowly scooted backward on the bed, realizing he had nowhere to escape.

"Uh-oh, I know that look…"

"C-Cynthia, we can talk about this, right? I’ll get ready now, I promise!"

But Cynthia wasn’t having it. "You always say that, Master Lucian, but this time, you won’t escape!"

With a swift movement, Cynthia leaped onto the bed, catching Lucian in a tight grip as she playfully scolded him.

"C-CYNTHIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"