In a personal training room of the first-year dormitory, a boy swung his katana repeatedly.
His movements were fluid and precise, each swing slicing through the air.
His forehead dripped with sweat but his eyes never blinked.
Three hours.
He had been swinging for three hours straight, lost in a trance.
The mana in the air danced around him as if embracing him gently.
Still, he didn't stop.
He was on the verge of awakening something new.
His blade moved without pause.
Slowly, the air wasn't slashed anymore.
No.
It parted before his sword could even touch it.
Shadow and light flowed through him—not in opposition but in harmony. As if they had always belonged together.
His swings grew sharper.
He was no longer fighting the elements.
He was becoming part of them.
The air started to vibrate as Alden opened his crimson eyes.
Now.
With a single thought, his blade moved.
A clean and quiet swing.
Something shot forward—no light, no flash, no sound.
