As I made my way through the training ground’s entrance, I tried to blend in, acting as casually as possible while scanning the area for my squad. But the sight of a dozen squads already lined up in perfect formation made my stomach sink. I stood out like a sore thumb, marching in late for all to see.

Panic set in, but I kept moving.

It was early enough in the morning – I consoled myself. I could handle whatever punishment he issued and still finish by noon.

My only objective now was to meet with that girl from before and get some answers. Also I desperately needed to rack my brain on a way to get a permit to leave the city, as I had none.

The clanging of swords against metal echoed from the sparring rings on the far side of the field.

“Squad Captain Valens Kralman,” an all-too-familiar voice snapped me out of my thoughts. It was loud enough to draw the attention of every knight present.

“Instructor Alanius, I was just looking for you—” I started, trying to control my rising dread.

But he cut me off with a theatrically raised voice, “What a coincidence, so was I”

There was an unfamiliar man next to him. I knew time was ticking, so I went straight to the point. “I’m unacceptably late, sir, and I request any punishment you see fit for today.” I bowed my head low, surprising even him. Whatever he threw at me, I’d finish it by noon, no problem.

“Fit for today?” he snarled, his eyes narrowing. “You’ve disgraced both our families and shamed your father’s name. How dare you dishonor us during an official imperial inspection?” He gestured sharply to the man beside him. “This is Imperial Delegate Orwel.”

To make matters worse, Alanius and I were second cousins by blood.

My heart sank further. So that old man was an imperial delegate. My eyes widened, and I bowed even lower.

The delegate whispered a question into Alanius’s ear to which he replied “Yes, that’s his son”

My teeth clenched.

“Guards! Take him away! Three days of solitary confinement!” Alanius ordered.

Three days?! I’d miss my chance to meet her!

“Instructor Alanius—” I started, trying to think of something, anything to change his mind.

But the delegate interjected. “Wait, Alanius. Did you say squad captain? Let him spar—”

“Master Orwel, I strongly advise against it,” Alanius cut in, his tone tightening. “I don’t want to insult you further with his presence. We have better men among the new recruits.”

“Alanius,” Orwel’s voice was cold and commanding, “you’d do well to remember who you’re speaking to and why I’m here. This boy was made a squad captain, even thought I can guess the circumstances. and you dare tell me he lacks the qualities while I’m on INSPECTION?” He waved me forward. “Go now, boy, and show me what you can do.”

Alanius’s scowl deepened. “Clear the first ring. Amari, you’re up.”

I felt a glimmer of hope, meeting the girl at noon at least.

Now facing Amari in the ring, I offered a brief apology. “I’m sorry, Amari.”

He responded by drawing his sword.

Amari wasn’t large, but he was quick and precise, a master of the Tenray Imperial Sword Style. His blade shimmered faintly with mana, a sign of his skill and training. We weren’t mages, but knights were expected to channel mana to enhance our swordplay.

I, on the other hand, had zero to none mana. Not that it was rare, but...

What was rare was that I managed to send Amari to the ground repeatedly seemingly without too much effort. With each defeat, Alanius’s scowl deepened further.

We continued, and time passed. The training grounds began to empty as squad after squad left to attend to other duties. After yet another bout, Amari lay panting in the dirt, drenched in sweat under the sun. I glanced at Alanius, wiping the sweat from my brow, hoping he'd put an end to it.

But he motioned for us to continue. The imperial delegate was now sitting comfortably in the shade, lazily observing whoever was left dueling.

Alanius intended to keep us here all day. He seemed to think Amari needed to be reprimanded for losing to me and I was guilty of a far worst sin in his eyes. But even if I lost at this point, it wouldn’t stop him now.

With noon approaching and my thoughts fixated on getting to the meetup, I saw only one way out.

After finishing yet another bloodless bout, I raised my sword, challenging Alanius. It was a bold yet incredibly stupid move—he could arrest me for insubordination on the spot. But knowing him this was my only way out, this could not continue any longer.

He took the challenge instantly, appearing beside Amari with his sword drawn in the blink of an eye.

The new plan was…

To get beaten, until he lost interest…

“I should teach you some manners personally then. Amari, your performance was unsatisfactory; go rest for now.” His eyes were locked now on me, sharp and cold.

He was only a few years older than me, matching my height and build, but his movements were more refined. He was a master-ranked swordsman and possibly close to becoming a grandmaster.

Running a hand through his slicked-back hair, he lowered his voice as if speaking to me alone. “Manaless dog, how many times have I told you not to embarrass me with those disgraceful moves?”

He sprang into action, dust rising from the ground as he lunged forward, his sword piercing through my defenses and tagging my cuirass past my shield in an instant.

He’s going all out from the start.

Breathing heavily, I started the fifth technique of the Tenray Sword Style, something I’d practiced thousands of times. But instead of completing it, I rotated my wrist sharply, catching the edge of his sword and barely deflecting it.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Muffled murmurs spread among the few knights still watching.

Alanius stepped forward, leaning into the motion, and struck me in the chin with the pommel of his sword, busting my lip and forcing me back.

“Those cheap tricks don’t work on me, mutt!” he snarled. “The sword techniques are sacred, their proper execution is too! Don’t you dare corrupt them!” He swung his sword hard at me, infusing it with a heavy amount of mana.

Proper execution, what a joke! How am I supposed to do that without any mana, you damn technique fetishist!

All the forms required mana. I followed them up to the point where mana was needed; beyond that, well, I improvised. It was something Mauricio had taught me when he saw me struggle. Turns out it was one of the best ways to confuse and gain an edge over anyone using the Tenray Sword Style. That gimmicky way of fighting practically made me the worst opponent to most of my peers.

But Alanius was on a different level, leagues above that.

I barely managed to parry his mana-imbued sword swing with my shield. The impact buckled my knees, and before I could recover, his boot caught me in the chest, sending me to the sandy ground lifting dust. I gasped for air, winded and dazed.

Maybe now was the best time to stay down and play dead. Surely, he’d be satisfied now.

“To your feet, knight!” He called

“We’re just getting started! I have no intention of letting you off the hook until you finally learn your place!”

I was wrong, he was not simply playing. My hands and feet felt like they were burning as I forced myself back up. Why wouldn’t he relent and let me go?

“Alanius, aren’t you going too far with this boy? I’ve seen enough; even without mana, the kid meets the standard. Leave him be,” the delegate finally intervened.

“Master Orwel, from what I hear just now, this matter has nothing to do with the inspection any longer. Do you have anything against me disciplining my trainees, then?”

“Do as you see fit” the old man waved his hand, while he watched us attentively now.

He became a blur, suddenly appearing at my sword’s side faster than I anticipated. His blade thrust forward, and I braced for impact, but there was nothing—he vanished again. A sharp blow to my knee made me stumble, forcing me to kneel awkwardly. Alanius stood before me, his face twisted with pride and arrogance.

He wasn’t just trying to defeat me—he was humiliating me in the flashiest way possible, in front of the delegate.

If that was the case, I knew exactly what his next move would be. If I was going to have any chance of getting out of this and still meeting that girl, now was the time to act! I had to gamble everything on his next move.

He lunged again, his blade streaking toward my neck, just like before. It was a bait—his real target was my back! The ultimate humiliation for any knight.

Here goes nothing. Instead of raising my shield to parry, I braced myself and prepared to spin behind me.

In an instant, he vanished again. I swung my shield with all the strength I had.

After a long and empty motion, with surprise my shield struck something solid—his sword mid-guard. The impact lifted him slightly off the ground, throwing him off balance.

Alanius’s face was a mix of shock and disbelief.

There was my chance! I moved as if my bruised body weighed nothing, swinging my sword with everything I had.

If I scored this hit against him, he would have to relent!

Time seemed to slow around me.

“Don’t die,” a woman’s voice echoed in my mind. What? Whose voice was that?

Wide-eyed, Alanius twisted his body mid-air.

Shit! He wasn’t wearing any armor! My blade would slice right through him. If he’d been wearing a breastplate like everyone else, this non-mana slash would’ve just knocked the wind out of him.

Stop, stop, stop! I yanked my sword back, then something warm trickled down my chest. Alanius’s blade slid across my breastplate and cut into my neck just above the collarbone.

A gush of blood sprayed out.

The familiar sting of a blade slicing through my flesh made me slowly raise my hand with disbelief to the wound. Alanius lowered his trembling sword, his eyes hollow with desperation as the chaotic voices of knights calling for a healer filled the air.

Pressing my hand against the wound, I thought it wasn’t that deep. He must have caught me with the top part of his blade, reacting instinctively to my incoming blow. But when I looked down, blood was steadily dripping between my fingers, staining the front of my breastplate a deep crimson.

Alanius’s hands were suddenly on my neck, pressing tightly over my fingers to staunch the bleeding.

“I-I didn’t mean to. Valens, my hand just swung, it moved on its own. I didn’t mean to,” he muttered, over and over, his voice shaky.

An elderly healer rushed over, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the chaos. “Don’t worry, son, you’ll live,” he said, his voice soothing as his eyes met mine. “These old hands have closed more than a few such wounds, you know.”

He gently pushed Alanius aside and placed his hands over the wound. As I lay on the ground, blood pooling next to my neck, mana gathered in the healer’s hands until they began to glow, and he chanted an incantation.

While the healer worked his magic, I could only marvel at the sun shining down on me, my face warmed by its rays. It was almost noon.

The healer’s hands stopped glowing.

Am I healed now? Can I stand up? But as I tried to move, the old healer pushed me back down, channeling more mana, repeating the incantations.

I didn’t know much about restoration magic, but it sure made you feel cold. My hands and legs were freezing by now.

The healer’s hands began to tremble as he repeated the words over and over.

Orwel’s face cast a shadow over me, blocking the sun. “What’s taking so long, old man? Close the cut already.”

“It’s not closing… This boy must be resistant to healing magic,” the healer snapped, his tone now filled with urgency. “I have never seen such thing! Someone, give me a clean cloth! We can’t let him lose any more blood!” he called out to the shocked Alanius.

I could see it in their faces—this was it. I was going to die.. What a stupid way to go… After dying so many times in that nightmare, I thought I’d gotten used to it, to this feeling.

But I couldn’t have been more wrong. Regret welled up inside me; Even my simple plans for the future, my wants, my dream… nothing would ever come true.

Now I just wanted to see Lana just one more time and at least confess to her, how stupid really.

Mustering the last of my wits, I offered one final prayer to the gods, hoping for salvation.

That was the final thing I did as crushing exhaustion took over; my eyes grew unbearably heavy. I fought to stay awake, drifting in and out of consciousness, catching glimpses of light and seeing Alanius while I was carried somewhere.

“Don’t close your eyes Valens, stay with us“

Darkness quickly claimed me again.

****

The limp body of a boy lay atop the altar in the temple of the God of a Thousand Calamities, surrounded by several men. A shadow crept over the high window of the altar chamber.

“He’s looking paler and paler, healer! Will he make it.”

“The boy has lost too much blood for me to say for certain, Master Alanius. He’s still breathing, but how long he’ll last is another matter,” the old man replied, lowering his head in resignation.

Alanius grabbed the healer by the collar. “Can’t you do anything else to save him, old man?”

"Stop, Instructor! Get a hold of yourself! You’re making things worse,” Orwel shouted, yanking Alanius back.

“There has to be more we can do! I can’t just let him…” Alanius’s voice trailed off as he looked down, his face tightening.

“We’ve dressed the wound and applied ointment. Without magic, that’s the best we can. Now he’s in the hands of the priests and the god. The Trial is probably his only chance.”

A commotion from outside the chamber startled the men.

“Out of my way!” a woman’s voice echoed, and the door to the chamber swung open.

A young and beautiful girl rushed inside, heading straight for Alanius.

“Your Highness, what are you doing outside the palace?” he asked, his voice filled with concern.

“We’re leaving, Alanius.” She grabbed him by the hand.

Alanius hesitated, reaching out to stop her. “Wait, Your Highness, I can’t just leave—”

Seeing that he wouldn’t listen, she turned to the men in the room, her eyes flashing with authority. “Out, everyone. Get out!”

“But the ritual’s preparations are almost finished, Lady Bouchard,” protested the head priest.

“Out, I said!” she shouted, her voice brooking no argument.

The priest, the imperial delegate, and the healer quickly left the room without further objections.

****

I opened my eyes to a hazy vision of heaven. I was certain of it because I saw angelic figures near me, close to each other...

“Stop it, Alanius! If we don’t leave now, he’s going to kill you. This is all his fault anyway.”

Melania saw the determination in his eyes—he wasn’t backing down.

“Maybe he pushed me to be hard on the boy, but this is still my mess to fix,” Alanius said, his voice steady. “He’s my uncle. I can’t run. If he wanted to, he could destroy my whole family. After how I broke my betrothal, there’s nothing left to protect us.”

“Alanius… I needed you now more than ever,” Melania whispered, her voice trembling. She struck him in the chest, but her hand lingered there, the hurt clear in her eyes. “How could you be so reckless? So stupid? I can’t let you throw your life away like this.” She looked at him intently “I can’t lose you.”

“That’s why I can’t run,” he replied, grabbing her passionately. “I don’t want to lose you too.” She didn’t rebuke him, and they ended up brushing against my leg, sharing a deep kiss.

“Stop, somebody could see us” she pushed back.

“Argh,” I grunted in pain, shocking the figures.

“I’m... not feeling too well... Please, angels... don’t make out over my body,” I muttered deliriously.

“Eek!” the girl screamed, jumping away and taking a few steps back.

Suddenly, a thick golden presence filled the chamber, halting her in mid-motion. Steady boot steps and the rattling of chains echoed down the long corridor. The angels quickly arranged themselves next to my “bed”, lowering their heads, presenting them as if awaiting execution.

Even though my vision was blurry, and I was in heaven, I recognized that black armor and those rattling golden chains...

It was my father, Valrick Kralman. He walked into the room with his sword drawn.

Unfazed he came straight to me, prying open the gauze over my wound.

“Father?” I managed to ask, my voice weak.

“Don’t try to speak, son. You need to rest now,” he said.

Then, in front of the terrified angels, he stuck his finger into the wound, examining it. Satisfied, he sheathed his sword.

Valrick calmly grabbed a damp cloth from nearby and began gently scrubbing the bloodstains from my skin.

As his hands moved one of the angelic figures began speaking mechanically, without any semblance of emotion. “Yes, Lord Commander. It was an accident.”

“Yes, that’s the only wound.”

“No, I can’t confirm how many people saw the wound directly, but those who did were: me, Amu the healer, and the Imperial Delegate Orwel. The wound was later dressed heavily.”

“Yes, Lord Commander.”

Abruptly, Valrick hoisted me gently over his shoulder and began leaving.

As he exited, the head priest ran after him from down the stone corridor. “Your Holiness, pardon my insolence, but the boy is critically injured. Without the ritual of Trial, he won’t make it.”

“Is he now, Mister Head Priest? Surely your old eyes must have failed you. After examining the wound, it seems to be only a superficial cut. “He moved the gauze, presenting the cut below “See? It’s not even bleeding anymore.”.

The startled priest extended his hand to touch me. “Impossible, is he even aliv—”

That same hand turned around and gripped his throat, making the priest gag.

“I’ll say this clearly with my own voice so you can remember. You know what I am to your god, don’t you, third-rate village priest?”

“Yes... Your... Holiness,” the priest choked out.

“Then don’t you ever dare touch this boy. You and your disciples alike!”

“Y-yes.”

The priest’s hand released his throat.

Valrick then fished a coin out of his pocket and tossed it to the still-coughing priest.

“Here, an offering for the altar. I won’t be so ungrateful as to forget that I once lay on it as well.”

As he left with me, the oppressive presence lifted, and the angels, finally freed, embraced each other once more.