The clinking of wood, the rustling of leaves, and Aaron's soft, exasperated sighs filled the quiet training yard behind House Aetherwyn's estate.
Today's training, as Aaron had proudly announced to himself earlier that morning, was a return to the basics—namely, swinging a stick around until his arms fell off.
He grunted as he brought down his makeshift sword—a thick branch he'd found while trimming hedges—on a row of stacked pumpkins.
The pumpkins exploded.
"…Huh," Aaron murmured, blinking. "Guess they were overripe."
From the estate's rooftop, one of the house guards stared in disbelief, having watched the entire "sword form" session.
"That wasn't just a swing. He compressed mana into the tip of the branch at the last second… did you see the shockwave?"
Another guard beside him scribbled notes furiously into a leather-bound notebook labeled:
'Aaron Aetherwyn – Threat Level: ???'
---
Elsewhere – House Virelith's Courtyard
Lily Virelith stood at the training ring, drenched in sweat and fuming.
"He's not even a real professor yet…" she muttered between swings of her obsidian-forged halberd. "And yet everyone's talking about him."
It wasn't jealousy, she told herself. It was righteous indignation. Honor. Legacy.
"He's just some stuck-up noble son who lost weight," she hissed. "What's next? He breathes and the stars align?"
Her assistant handed her a scroll. "Lady Lily, new report. Apparently… the Whispering Hollow incident… wasn't an incident."
She snatched the scroll and scanned it.
"Thorthazul…? Defeated? Again?"
Her eye twitched. "Was that idiot even aware of what he fought?"
"No, ma'am. Witnesses say he looked mildly annoyed at the echo in the cave."
Lily dropped the scroll and pointed at the training dummy.
"I want ten thousand fire drills, full combat form, starting now! If that man becomes my colleague at the academy… I refuse to be outpaced by someone who thinks poking a tree counts as training!"
---
Back at the Aetherwyn Estate – Garden Grounds
Aaron, tired of hitting pumpkins, was now lifting heavy clay pots filled with water.
"Hydration… strength… endurance…" he murmured, repeating advice he vaguely remembered from a fitness forum in his past life.
What he didn't know was that the clay pots had each been enchanted by a mischievous estate maid with gravity-reduction sigils for cleaning duty.
The enchantments had worn off.
The pots now weighed over 400 kilograms.
Aaron casually did squats.
Behind a tree, a group of trainee knights fainted one by one.
---
Inside the Manor – Duke Aetherwyn's Study
Duke Aetherwyn stared at the window, watching his son's lone training session from afar.
"He's finally… awakened," the Duke whispered, mistaking sheer coincidence and Aaron's humble efforts as calculated self-tempering of celestial mana.
The steward beside him bowed low. "Shall we inform the High Council?"
"No. Let them continue to believe he is but a fading star. Only then will his light blind them at its peak." The Duke sipped wine. "Besides… he inherited her eyes."
The steward dared not ask who "her" was.
---
Midday – Lunch Break
Aaron sat in the grass, chewing on a bread roll stuffed with honeyed carrots.
"I'm pretty sure my mana hasn't grown at all," he mumbled, tapping his chest. "Still feels the same. Maybe I'm just hopeless."
In reality, a thin shimmer of celestial starlight was spiraling through his body every time he chewed—his digestion alone was reinforcing his mana core.
A group of deer peeked at him from the woods.
Then bowed.
---
Far From the Estate – Elven Territory, Continent of Liorael
In the Moonlit Citadel of the Elves, High Priestess Serylin's starlight mirror shimmered with prophetic light.
"It has happened," she whispered. "The Celestial Thread has moved."
Around her, elven seers gasped.
"Should we seek him?"
"No," she said, narrowing her eyes. "We will wait. The Star-Walker walks unaware. That is his greatest power. And our salvation."
---
That Evening – Back in Aaron's Room
Aaron lay on his back, arms sprawled out, breathing deeply after a full day of training.
"I've made zero progress," he groaned. "At this rate, I'll barely survive the academy's entrance exam."
He didn't know the academy had already accepted him as a professor.
Or that several major forces were preparing to welcome—or neutralize—him depending on where he stood.
He thought he was just… catching up to average.
"I'll add pushups tomorrow," he muttered.
---
Meanwhile – Across the Continent
Axel Myrravelle stood in a shadowed chamber surrounded by books, eyes glowing red for a split second.
He'd heard the rumors. The whisper of a new power rising.
But what angered him wasn't the power.
It was the disbelief.
"Aaron Aetherwyn," Axel growled. "You're just a loser noble who got skinny. No way you're outshining me."
He threw a knife at the dartboard.
The dartboard exploded.
---
Back at the Aetherwyn Manor – Late Night
Aaron rolled in bed, sleep evading him.
"I should try meditating tomorrow," he thought.
He had no idea that, just by closing his eyes, he accidentally activated a star alignment technique lost for centuries—one used by ancient celestial monks to accelerate mana flow during dreams.
In his sleep, the stars bent.
Constellations shifted slightly.
And the sky whispered:
He is still unaware.
---
End of Chapter 17