Across Eternity Book 3

ACROSS

 

ETERNITY

 

BOOK 3

 

HANNIBAL

 

NORTH

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places,

and incidents are the product

of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Any resemblance to actual persons,

living or dead, events, locales is entirely coincidental.

 

Text Copyright © 2021 Hannibal North

Cover Art Copyright © 2023 Hannibal North

Art by Gabriel Weisz

All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Amazon.com.

 

ISBN: 9798781026739

Imprint: Independently published

TABLE OF CONTENTS

 

Orientation 5

 

Art of the Sword 23

 

Divine Fury 51

 

Omen 84

 

Score 116

 

Vibrant and Faded 146

 

Expertise 181

 

Great Minds 222

 

Vindictive 252

 

The Second Dish 285

 

Final Exam 314

 

The Knighthood 351

Orientation

 

The sky was clear, perfect weather for the celebration in

Colbrand. The streets were crowded with tourists and citizens, enjoying life to its fullest with merriment and drink. The peddlers and merchants put away their usual wares and brought out their festival goods, much of which traveled a great distance for this holiday.

Partakers wore masks that made them look like the monsters

of the wild and the armored knights who slew them. They ate foods sweetened with honey and syrup or hashed with exotic spices, and amused themselves with small novelties and trinkets. Harps, horns, and other noisemakers were played for passing audiences, while street performers awed strangers with feats of physicality and magic.

Disturbing the traffic, small floats built on wagons and

carriages roamed the city. Like the masks, most floats displayed effigies of fearsome beasts from the countryside and legend, such as wolves and dragons. Others resembled knights, warhorses, and naval vessels. Some depicted the six elemental gods. These floats, if not pulled by horses, were pushed by slaves.

Knights likewise paraded on horseback, smiling and waving

to grateful and disgruntled citizens. Knights had a peculiar relationship with the public, being more individualistic and nameworthy than the faceless soldiers of the military, but more regulated than the opaque and neutral adventurers. Knights of exemplary caliber would earn names for themselves for the size and number of victories. Their stories would travel, and their names would be woven into myth and legend, remembered long after their death. For many other knights, failure and misdeeds would tarnish their reputation and their families, and the stigma of nasty rumors would stick to them like a foul odor.

At the moment, the public’s view could go either way,

primarily due to the scenery around them. Colbrand, the capital of Uther, was in a state of recovery, bearing the fresh wounds received in the chaotic Red Revelry. It was a bloody tradition, nighttime festivals of violence taking place in the silent streets. Warriors with a perverse love of combat would go out and fight under cover of darkness. They’d slay each other simply for the rush, to test their skills and loot their kills.

On the final night before the holiday, there was a mass

breakout at the royal dungeon, and all the incarcerated revelers escaped and caused pandemonium to avoid recapture. Fires were spread, threatening to destroy the city, and countless people were wounded and killed in the ensuing chaos. Colbrand narrowly survived, and three days of work got the city functioning to acceptable levels, stable enough to finally enjoy their postponed holiday.

During the chaos, the effectiveness of the knights was put on

display for everyone to see. Many citizens had been saved by the knights or saw them fighting the revelers. Others lost their homes, loved ones, and livelihoods to the spreading flames and violence that the knights failed to prevent. Many of those same revelers were now joining the Knight Order, for today was the day of admittance for new applicants.

Among this crowd of young warriors was Noah, walking the

streets towards the academy. It was an academy mostly in name, for those who managed to enroll wouldn’t be educated but trained. This was the military. Noah had joined several militias in past lives and knew the lifestyle, but he was more filled with excitement than nostalgia. Getting to experience the unknown was rare for him, and this world had something he had never encountered before: magic.

This foreign variable was shaping the destiny of this world in

ways that fascinated him. It was a sociological interest that allowed him to enjoy this front-row seat, watching how magic affected the lives of these strangers and the ripples it would create in the future. He could wield magic power, and here, he hoped to understand it and, hopefully, understand his own existence. The knowledge he could acquire here was making his heart flutter.

As he walked, he surveyed the other applicants. They were

all in their late teens and early twenties, commoners and adventurers. There was a male majority, but a surprising number of women. Juxtaposed to Uther’s regular soldiers, all of whom were men who couldn’t use magic and were equally expendable, women with the ability to launch great fireballs or heal fatal wounds were too valuable for the high echelon to ignore. Magic was a talent easy to display, helping women show their worth and overcome barriers.

The number of applicants continued to grow, tens becoming

hundreds. It seemed many nobles handed out letters of recommendation like candy, and seeing all these faces, Noah was a bit irked that Lord Fault had been such a miser about the whole thing. Then again, he had killed the man’s brother.

He and the other adventurers were forced to crowd the sides

of the street so that several carriages could roll by. Each was more ornately decorated than the last and displayed various coats of arms. They formed a long line in front of the wrought iron gates, like limos at an awards show, and the sons and daughters of high-ranking noble houses stepped out. Most of them were the second and third children, the spares, and having no prospects of their own, it was either this or the life of a commoner. The carriages were simply a way for the various families to showcase their wealth.

If anything, their arrivals were meek. There were no loud

announcements or fanfare, and no fancy outfits or lines of servants carrying luggage. Such gaudiness, like the carriages themselves, was forbidden on academy grounds. Here, wealth and names did not carry the same weight as in the outside world, though they managed to hold onto some influence. These young men and women were simply cadets and would be treated as such, for the most part. They were modestly dressed and carried the weapons they had been trained with.

As Noah approached the gates, he spotted a familiar face

exiting one of the carriages: Alexis, garbed in her blue battle dress with her blonde hair wound in a bun, while two flanges framed her face. Noah had fought beside her on his way to Colbrand, and while most would look upon her and see only a stoic beauty, he had witnessed her killing skills. She spotted him but did not smile or speak out. Instead, she gave him a simple nod, as though they were still on the battlefield. He liked that about her, that professionalism.

Past the gates, staff were gathering applicants in the large

training fields before the central building. Noah found his place and waited with all the others for the stragglers to make their way onto the field. It was a sea of noise due to countless conversations between friends and acquaintances, and the staff organizing the applicants shouting over them. There looked to be over a thousand people gathered.

‘Fault, you really were a stingy asshole.’ The facility was an academy and a military base, so every

building was designed like a fortress. The central building, already resembling a castle, had experienced several expansions to accommodate the growing number of cadets. A man stepped out of the main entrance, a large portcullis. His head was shaved, and he was dressed in a long leather coat, decorated with medals and the insignia of the knighthood. His arms were folded behind his back, and the way he walked made it look like he was on wheels.

“Attention!” He shouted the word long and loud enough for

everyone to hear him and fall silent. He paused, making sure he had all eyes. “My name is Commandant Rupert Ford, and I am the headmaster at this academy, but not all of you need to remember my name. Only the applicants who have what it takes to get in, those who are still standing at the end of the day, need remember me. The letters from your benefactors do not grant you a seat of conscription, only the chance to fight for one.

Before we begin, any applicant specializing in weapons and

physical combat shall move to the left field—my left. Any applicant specializing in elemental magic, move to the right. Each side will form three lines, and anyone who isn’t in line is rejected.”

The sea of faces churned as everyone hustled to fulfill the

command. Groups of friends were forced to split up, and Noah ended up in the left field. As he moved, he noticed a trail of sand forming a ring within the field, just barely large enough to hold the combatants. Three winding lines formed, spiraling and bending to accommodate everyone into the marked space.

The commandant held out his hand to a row of six desks set

up at the bottom of the stairs, each attended by one of the staff, with a ledger and a crystal ball. “You will present your letters of recommendation to the examiners. Once authenticity has been confirmed, your magic strength will be gauged on a scale of 1-100. A score of 50 or less will get you rejected. If you pass, you will turn over your weapons and bags and receive an armband.

While you wait in line, there will be no talking and no

unnecessary movement. If you leave your place in line for any reason or cause a disturbance, you will be rejected. If you are caught eating or drinking, you will be rejected. Should you reach the examiner in a disgraceful state, you will be rejected. Those who lack patience and discipline have no place here.”

‘Just kill me now,’ thought everyone present, with those

feelings growing stronger as the lines stretched farther and the sun bared down on them.

That was how Noah and the other applicants spent the

morning, standing in the summer heat and shuffling forward. Having lived for thousands of years, patience was a skill that Noah had learned early on, but the same couldn’t be said for everyone around him. Several noble sons kicked up a fuss as time went on. Their complaints grew from soft grumbling to frustrated shouting, demanding exemptions or loudly flouting the rules. It didn’t take much for a patrolling staff member to yank them out of line and give them the boot.

The reaction was usually the same for those caught with false

letters or who didn’t get a high enough score. They’d beg and plead for another chance, throwing up any kind of excuse they could think of, or many would resort to anger and become demanding. Over in the mage group, Noah saw yet another mid-level noble shouting that he deserved a second reading and was above such silly tests. People like him were forced out as roughly as needed.

Some fighters passed the first screening, only to risk being

thrown out just a second later because they refused to hand over their weapons. All but a few came to their senses. Noah understood their hesitance and sympathized with them. Before coming here, almost all the applicants lived their lives with weapons always in reach. It was a painful lesson to learn and a difficult instinct to go against. For the more fanatical warriors, it was also a point of pride.

Overlooking the proceedings was the commandant, his

posture and demeanor unhindered by the heat. He was like a living statue. He turned, only slightly, at the sound of an exclamation coming from one of the examiners. An applicant had scored 100 on the magic aptitude test, twenty points higher than anyone else had been able to achieve, and more surprisingly, they were in the combatant category.

‘Hmmm, as I’d expect from Prince Seraph,’ Ford thought. Time passed, and Noah inched closer to the examiner,

standing behind a red-haired young man without any weapons. The examiner, a middle-aged and overweight clerk, sized him up. The young man handed him a sealed envelope, and he flicked it open with a letter opener.

“You are Gideon from the town of Irving, and it says that

you specialize in knives. For magic, you can use monk enhancements. Is this correct?”

“Yes, that’s true, sir, but I’m best with barehanded combat.”

There was a slight hesitation, but the man either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

“Can you read and write? Then sign here.” Gideon wrote his name in the ledger, and the examiner

pointed to the crystal ball. “Place one hand on it and channel as much mana as you can.”

He did as instructed and sent his mana into the orb. Within its

cloudy interior, a number appeared.

“64, good. Here is your armband.”

He put it on and walked over to where the other admitted

cadets were waiting, though waiting in line and waiting outside the line didn’t have much of a difference under the sun.

“Your name is Noah, from the town of Clive. You specialize

in swordplay. Is that right?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t see anything about your magic.” He didn’t want to reveal his real magic, and claiming he

didn’t have any might mean rejection. “I have mana, but I’m finding it hard to turn into magic. I believe I’m starting to develop warrior magic, but it’s not much, and I’m hoping I can hone it with the help of a teacher.”

“Very well, then. Let’s see how much mana you have.” This was something Noah had been waiting for. All he could

cast were illusions, and without any other users to compare himself to, he was left with no idea where he was located in the magical hierarchy. He placed his hand on the orb and forced as much mana as he could into the cloudy confines.

“70, well done.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right.” Considering the intensity of

his training vs the short time he’d had magic, it was a fair assessment.

Next, the annoying process of removing all of his weapons.

While his bow and most of his knives were hidden in his ring, he still kept several blades, shivs, garrotes, and even bludgeon tools concealed throughout his body, all of which he moved to his bag before handing them over. His gear was wrapped in a cloth tagged with a number, the same ID number next to his name in the ledger.

The armband he received was also numbered. It looked like

regular cheap fabric, but when he put it on, he felt it tighten around his arm and stick to his skin like duct tape. Everyone had the same reaction of trying to pull it off, only to find it wouldn’t budge.

Finally, everyone was registered. “Now we move on to the

next stage,” said the commandant. “The armbands you’re wearing are enchanted and glow bright when you use mana. Those of you on the right, raise your hands and show us. Do not stop until I tell you.”

All the mages raised their hands, showing the armbands.

They began to glow with a blue radiance, clearly visible even in full sunlight. “They can only be made to glow once, and as soon as that glow fades, those armbands will disintegrate, and you will be rejected. The last one hundred mages with their armbands intact will be accepted.”

Noah saw it—the tremor of misery rippling through the

mages. There were around five hundred mages present, and to outlast 80% would be a painful trial. How long could they hold out? Minutes? Hours? All the participants were either trying to brace themselves and commit, or realizing they would fail and already losing strength to their gluttonous doubts.

“For the combat specialists, it’s the same basic principle: the

last one hundred standing get to enroll, but it is your physical stamina we will be testing. You shall fight each other hand-to-hand in a battle royale. Should you attempt to use any magic, your armband will disintegrate, and you will be rejected, same with if you step beyond the border.”

For Noah and the combatants, the words ‘oh shit’ began to

repeat through their minds. He hadn’t given the mages any time to prepare for the second stage, so they all knew what the following words out of his mouth would be.

“You may commence the thinning of the herd… now.” He gave a loud whistle, and at that moment, everyone within

the field was either hesitant, stunned by the commandant’s words and gripped by uncertainty, or acted immediately, forming their strategy before they even took a breath. A switch was flipped as several dozen fighters began throwing punches and kicks at everyone nearby. The heavy-hitters, those who needed no hesitation, preyed on all those who had yet to even raise their guard, causing the mob to churn within the enclosed borders. Among them was Gideon, knocking people through the air with devastating kicks or dropping them with powerful jabs.

Noah took the third option and disappeared into the crowd.

He couldn’t use his magic, but he still knew how to blend in with the hesitant. His goal was to survive, not build a body count, so he first stepped back to observe the scene. Many others thought like him, using the cowardly as camouflage while collecting information and waiting for the mess to clean itself up.

Only a few moments had passed, but the crowd was

metamorphosing without pause. The fiercest fighters were opening up space in the center, and the ripples of violence were moving through the other applicants. Hundreds of young men and several women were soon brawling like they had taken bath salts in a mosh pit.

All the mages, at least, those with attention to spare, watched

the sea of fists and feet and listened to the chorus of grunts and battle cries. Noah avoided detection through the beginning of the fight, letting the crowd thin itself out as the weakest either lost consciousness or were forced off the field. Countless applicants had to flee so as not to be trampled on. Those who were beaten until unconsciousness had to be dragged out by the staff, but were then tended to by women in white vestments, using healing magic.

There was often a flash of blue as someone used magic.

Perhaps they thought they could hide it, or did it without realizing. Whether they meant to or not, it caused their armband to turn into ash, and they had no choice but to leave. The mages still had a few hundred left in their ranks and would continue their endurance test. When their strength gave out, applicants in both fields would be forcefully handed their gear and escorted off the premises.

In time, the crowd shrank, and there was more room to fight,

but fewer places to hide. The middle and high-level fighters had cleared out the weak, and everyone remaining had switched into battle mode. Anyone without a raised guard was now considered an easy target to force out.

Noah, observing from the sidelines at the edge of the ring,

was noticed. The timing was perfect, as watching the fight had given him a bit of bloodlust. He usually abstained from violence for pleasure, but amusement was half the reason he was here, so he might as well enjoy himself. He approached the mob and was likewise approached by his fellow applicants.

“Come on, give me a challenge.”

The first came at him, and a wide haymaker was sent his

way. Noah caught the young man’s fist and struck his elbow, snapping his arm. A kick to the back of the leg got him down on one knee, and Noah knocked him out with a blow to the temple. Noah turned to his next opponent and blocked an incoming kick, then a second. When the third came, Noah grabbed his leg and twisted him into a lock that brought the two of them to the ground. Two snaps were heard, one from the knee and the other from the ankle, followed by a cry of pain. A brawl like this wouldn’t usually be the best place for locks and grapples, but Noah knew how to inflict them without leaving himself vulnerable even a second longer than needed.

Noah got up and left him to lick his wounds, but the next

opponent was already charging and pulling his fist back. Noah interrupted with a sharp jab to the Adam’s Apple, and robbed of his breath, he couldn’t block the knee to the gut that came afterward, making him buckle. He was even more helpless when Noah wrapped his arms around his hunched-over body and suplexed him into the ground.

Another contender came, and this one was faster than the

others. He attacked as Noah righted his posture, unleashing a flurry of punches. Noah deflected them away as if avoiding a lashing blade. A sweep of the feet knocked his opponent off balance, and Noah knocked him out of bounds with a kick square to the center of his chest.

Noah was tackled from the side and knocked to the ground

with someone on top of him. The punches came, and Noah wasn’t able to block them all. Pinned down with fists raining, he was in a desperate situation. A hard strike to the kidneys made his attacker pause, and Noah sat up and grabbed him by the back of his head.

Pulling him back down, he unleashed several elbow strikes to

the side of the neck until the man finally gave in. He tried to get away, but Noah grabbed him in an armbar and snapped his elbow with an added shoulder dislocation. While the young man cried in pain, Noah got to his feet and dusted himself off. He was hot, thirsty, and sweaty, but it didn’t seem like that would change soon.

Once he had calmed his breathing, he returned to the battle.

Compared to the Harajin, most applicants were basically flailing children, so dodging their attacks and landing his own was easy. While he wasn’t cruel to his opponents, he didn’t display much mercy. He struck pressure points, dislocated joints, and cracked ribs and vertebrae with hard throws and slams. As long as he didn’t kill them, he didn’t have to pull his punches.

Looking around, he spotted Alexis on the other side of the

battlefield. After fighting ogres on the Paleon Channel, this was almost tedious, and she was knocking out small fry with painful grace. Back then, she proved herself someone he could naturally work with and rely on—a rare compatibility he got to experience.

‘Fighting alongside her again would make the test more

entertaining.’

Before he could take a step towards her, a complication

arose. She was fighting a young man, and something was wrong. The look on her face, her whole demeanor, was nothing like it had been when they fought together. He saw anger, frustration, and desperation. Her snarling face was dirtied with sweat, and her hair was coming undone. Her attacks were feral and without her former composure. Things weren’t going as smoothly in this battle as in her last, and, as Noah suspected, it was because of the young man she was fighting. He couldn’t hear what he was saying, but it looked like he was taunting her. While interesting, Noah wasn’t in a situation where he could sit back and watch.

He and the other top contenders had whittled down the mid-

tier mob, so now, the true fighting could begin. All it would take was eye contact for two individuals to pair off like dancers at a ball. Upon finding worthy adversaries, all the other applicants ceased to exist, and it seemed like the world itself gave these duelers space to duke it out.

Gideon, the man who had been in front of Noah in line, once

more stood before him, now in a combat stance. Noah had seen some of his handiwork earlier. His fighting style mimicked Taekwondo and Muay Thai, as he mainly relied on powerful kicks for smashing through defenses. He could also strike at vitals and soft targets with the Nukite spear-hand technique. Noah, his mind aloft with adrenaline, welcomed the challenge.

Noah stepped back out of the reach of the first kick, raised

his guard to protect his head, and blocked the second kick from the side. The blow was heavy, almost knocking him off balance. He closed in and kneed Gideon in the stomach, once, twice, and then a punch slipped past his guard and struck his jaw. Noah forced Gideon back, and the two of them began hurling fists to both attack and defend.

They’d separate and then go at it once again, always with

Noah dealing more blows, but unable to match the force of Gideon’s powerful kicks. He managed to catch one of them, grabbing hold of Gideon’s leg to try to bring him down. Gideon jumped off the ground with his other foot and spun around to launch a second kick without missing a beat. Noah blocked and was forced to release him, letting him fall to the ground. He bolted back onto his feet with the same speed and aimed once more at Noah’s jaw. It had been a long time since he met someone who could pull off such a move.

Eventually, Ford whistled, and the battle ended. Around a

hundred combatants were left, give or take, most with torn shirts and plenty of bruises. Even Noah had a shiner and swollen lip. Looking around, he spotted Alexis, as well as a handful of other women. Each of them carried a chip on their shoulder, driven by the need to prove themselves, and it served them well. Gideon had also managed to remain in the ring.

“Congratulations, all of you,” said the commandant. “You

have earned your placement in this academy, and so too have you earned your rest. Until the mages complete their own trial, make yourselves comfortable and regain your strength.”

Many combatants dropped to the ground in exhaustion,

grateful to finally get off their feet. Carts full of food and water rolled in between the two fields, and Noah and his fellow cadets ate heartily. The mages, dripping with sweat as they fed every drop of mana to their armbands, could only watch in jealousy and curse their fellow applicants. When their bellies were full and their thirst quenched, the cadets simply laid out wherever they were comfortable. Noah saw Alexis sitting in one of the few shady spots. Her mood appeared sour, but she relaxed when he approached.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hello.”

He sat down next to her and sighed in relief. “How did things

go over back home with the ogres?”

“Well, the damage was already done, and officially, they

were slain by my family’s vassal troops.”

“Did you get any kind of reward or acknowledgment for

fighting?”

“Only a harsh lecture for taking the heirloom wyvern bow

without asking.”

“Well, you made great time getting to the capital.”

“I didn’t, actually. I got here just yesterday and thought I was

too late to enroll. Were you here during the great fire? Was it as bad as everyone says it was?”

“Worse. It was like a civil war in the streets. Your talents

would have been of great use to the knights.”

“Well, before long, that’ll be us.”

“The longer, the better, I say.”

Eventually, the last few exhausted mages were forced to give

in and accept their loss, leaving the last one hundred standing. Like the combatants, they too dropped to their knees when the commandant announced their victory, then ate and drank as though they had just crossed a desert.

“Well done, all of you,” said the commandant. “For the rest

of the day, you shall be shown around the academy and instructed on your lives as cadets.”

They were split into groups and led throughout the grounds.

Noah, along with nineteen others, was in the care of a silver knight in uniform. He was a middle-aged man with white hair and a mustache, with the physique of an MMA fighter. He carried no sword, but looking at him, Noah doubted he needed one. Sir Kiev, he was called. He led the group to the back of the academy, where the fields were full of obstacle courses and setups for fighting under the most extreme circumstances. It was as if a playground and a torture chamber had sex and spawned a litter. For Noah, it was pretty nostalgic, though not for the best of reasons.

‘Ugh, I do not like the look of that traverse rope, and I just

know those sandbags are going to be a chore.’

“You will get to know every inch of these fields. These

obstacles you see, you’ll be able to get over them in your sleep. This is also where the bulk of your weapons training will take place. For the first six months, you will be trained to use swords, bows, spears, shields, and maces, as well as hand-to-hand combat. The longer and harsher you train, the more likely you are to manifest an ability.

For the second half of the year, you can select which

weapons or style you wish to focus your training on. If you haven’t developed warrior or monk magic by then, you’d best hope you can learn elemental magic.”

“A lot of those obstacles look painful,” said one cadet. Kiev turned to him with an icy stare. “Here in the academy,

you will speak only when spoken to, and always with the correct honorifics. If you break the rules here, pray you get a punishment as light as scrubbing floors. However, you are correct. Ever since I became an instructor here, I’ve advocated for harshening the training methods and doing more to expel weakness from the cadets. Lady Zodiac shares my sentiment, and we’ve worked together to make changes in the training regimen.”

‘Well, I’d probably be bored if this wasn’t challenging.

Hopefully, they’ve kept things reasonable,’ thought Noah.

“Every morning, at dawn, you will all run ten laps around

this field. The sooner you finish, the sooner you get to eat breakfast. Take too long, and you go hungry.”

No verbal complaints were made, but Noah heard the exhales

of anguish and dread from the other cadets. While he did have some interest in grinding the rust off his combat skills, the outside of the academy didn’t matter to him nearly as much as the inside.

One of the first stops made on the tour was to the academy

library. In an age before the printing press, the towering shelves of books were all the more impressive. All were bound in the leather of various monsters, along with an equally grand collection of scrolls. It was a feast of information, and Noah had a ravenous appetite.

“This is the library. Your knowledge must be equally

proficient as your combat techniques, and it is here that your mental training will be performed. Ignorance is as great a shame as weakness, and both can bring death on the battlefield. You will be taught the theory of magic, the history of Uther and other nations, the characteristics of the beasts and plants, how to create potions and tools, and how to maintain your equipment and yourselves. Half of each day will be spent training outside, and the other half will be spent studying inside, with each lesson lasting four hours.”

The next stage of the tour brought them to the dormitories,

though, technically, they were just barracks for regular cadets like Noah. His group was brought before two long rows of beds with large wooden chests in between, almost looking like a giant zipper. Sitting on top of each chest were the bundled weapons and gear each cadet had handed over. Noah spotted his own, along with a folded uniform on his pillow. Each uniform came with a written schedule for the cadets in question.

“Welcome to the men’s barracks. Here you will stay for the

next year. Your bed and equipment must be kept organized at all times. The women’s barracks are nearby, and any cadet caught where they don’t belong will get the whip.”

Noah looked at the barracks with disdain. He had expected

this in the regular military, but not in the Knight Academy. While it was far more comfortable than living in the wild, at least out there, he could experiment with his magic. Here, there was no privacy.

It was on to the next building, where they had proper rooms,

though they looked more like prison cells. There was a bed, a desk to study at, and a bureau for gear and clothes, all within four brick walls. There were copper nameplates on the doors, inscribed with the names of noble families and their respective crests.

“Those of you who are registered under specific noble

families and have their permission will be staying in these dorms. Dinner will be announced with the evening horn, and anyone caught outside their rooms or the barracks afterward will be strictly punished.”

They moved on. The third building of the living quarters was

passed by, and nothing was said. More dorms, but built less like a dungeon and more like an apartment complex, with wood and plaster. They likely belonged to the more powerful noble houses.

The academy was funded by taxes and private donations

from rich families. The larger the grant, the more say those houses had in how that money was spent. In this case, all the upper nobles had paid for these luxurious rooms for their enlisting descendants. Rather than an act of love, it was a way to show off and remain relevant. What was the limit to the extravagance these cadets were allowed to enjoy?

The tour ended in the middle of a muggy hallway. “This is

the final stop, the men’s bathhouse. The women’s is further down the hall. I will say this to you once: should you try to test your luck or courage in a way that would bring shame to this academy, know that the punishment is severe. You are to remain disciplined. Am I understood?”

“Yes, sir,” everyone replied.

“Good. After combat lessons and outdoor training, it is

mandatory that you bathe and put on a fresh uniform so as not to dirty the academy. In between and after lessons, you will have two hours in which you may use to bathe, eat, rest, and study. After dinner, you must go straight to your dorms. Now, all of you, get your uniforms and make yourselves presentable. Dinner is in one hour in the mess hall. Don’t be late.”

He walked away, and the entire group released the breath

they had been holding. Kiev was going to be a pain to study under. Noah and the other cadets went off to find their beds and collect their uniforms. He stowed his possessions in the trunk beside his bed, protected by a magic lock. His ring was with his other belongings, as wearing jewelry was forbidden on academy grounds. Even if someone did manage to break into the trunk, his ring was hidden so well that they’d never find it. He had grown accustomed to its convenience and now felt naked without it. His sword and knives were likewise banned, as cadets could only use the weapons supplied by the academy.

He returned to the bathhouse, which was already filling up.

Other groups were already inside, enjoying the five large communal baths. They lay at the other end of an array of shelves and benches for storing clothes. Soon enough, Noah felt the leftover strain of battle ebbing away and being replaced with warmth. Freshwater was constantly pouring in like a hot spring, and while the physics intrigued him, for now, he was just content with the result. Alongside the edges of the baths, bowls of powder had been set out. It was soap, a bit harsh, but better than nothing.

“Bliss…” he said to himself.

After taking some time to enjoy the water, he began scanning

the other cadets. He’d be around them for the next year, and they could affect his life even after the academy. It was best to determine who the potential threats and assets were. He memorized faces and looked for any hints as to what their magic might be.

Unfortunately, it was rather noisy, as a trio of brothers was

arguing over who beat more applicants. Here in this stone room, a raised voice hit like a slap in the face. There were other noisemakers, the rare cases of friends managing to make it through the brawl. All the other cadets were still and silent, each surrounded by strangers.

Then, the tone shifted as the last group arrived, for among

them was a cadet who had already earned a reputation. During the fight, he knocked out more applicants than anyone else, and not by pushing them over the line. He was built like a linebacker and had displayed frightening strength and skill. Now, all eyes fell to the large rune on his chest. It was the glyph of Lumendori, but was it a birthmark or a tattoo? Once more, among the whispers, he heard a name: Prince Seraph.

‘He was the one who scored 100 at the magic test? This

could be troublesome later.’

Over in the women’s bath, the air was less tense. A young

woman, one of many, sat upon the edge of one of the baths and scrubbed herself with the foaming powder. Her long scarlet hair hung freely and dripped endlessly. The water in the baths was warm, but it chilled her when it evaporated off her skin. She kept her head down and her blue eyes closed, wanting to enjoy this brief peace.

She was tired, physically and mentally. Despite being a

noble, she envied the commoner girls and the freedom they enjoyed. She wished to disappear into the great wide world like they could. For now, all she could do was try to make the best of the situation and hope that enrolling in the academy would help her down the road.

After washing away all hints of sweat, she changed into her

cadet uniform. They were all identical military jumpsuits, using the same beige fabric. While not flattering, they were softer and more comfortable than the usual rough garb that adventurers and commoners wore. There was only one size, but plenty of laces and drawstrings for easy adjustment. It was almost time for dinner, so she hurried to the female dorms to drop off her clothes. In the small brick room, she stowed her clothes in the bureau, along with her other possessions.

The door closed behind her. She was no longer alone. She

closed her eyes and tensed up, bracing herself for the mocking words and rough hands sure to come. But instead, she felt a soft caress to her cheek and unseen lips meeting her own, lips she knew.

“Alexis,” she whispered as she opened her eyes, looking

upon the smile meant only for her.

“Sophia, I promised I would be here with you.” They shared another sapphic kiss and then held each other tight for a moment neither wished would end. They eventually separated, if only to wipe away each other’s joyful tears. “I knew you would make it. See? You’re stronger than you think,” Alexis said.

Sophia giggled. “It seemed like you were having a bit of

trouble on your end.”

Alexis lost her smile. “I knocked him out twice, but that

obnoxious serpent was never called on it. I’m sorry. I thought that if I could get him disqualified, you would be safe, but there is nothing I can do to—!”

Sophia silenced her with another tight embrace. “I don’t want

to think about that. All I want to think about right now is this moment right here.”

 

Noah and the other cadets gathered in the mess hall for

dinner. They’d get in line with empty trays and take whatever the cooks had made. Tonight was chicken and raw vegetables, along with cups of wine. Noah took an open seat along one of the long tables, isolated enough not to get drawn into any conversations, but not so far from everyone as to appear prickly. He was still studying everyone, collecting data on their personalities. Who were the quiet ones? Who were the loudmouths? Who were the gifted and the moronic? The capable and the arrogant? The reliable and the backstabbers?

While mostly quiet in the bathhouse, the nobles were now

celebrating like a bunch of frat boys after an exam. The wine was watered down to prevent intoxication, but they were drunk on the thrill of victory. Several at the higher levels appeared to already know each other, probably from formal events they attended with their parents. Noah listened in, always searching for information.

The doors opened at the end of the room, and the

commandant entered. About half of the cadets immediately got to their feet and locked their posture.

“As you were,” the man said. Once everyone sat back down,

he resumed speaking. “Now that you are cadets instead of applicants, allow me to reintroduce myself. I am Commandant Rupert Ford, and I welcome you to the Utheric Knighthood Academy. You have all worked hard to get here, and you’ve earned a moment of merriment and rest, but tomorrow, the real work begins, where you shall be forged into proper knights. Whatever reason you have for coming here, you leave it at the door, for every step you now take on the path of life will be under this flag.”

He pointed up to the flag of Uther, hanging on the wall. It

depicted a shield with a swan on it. “Uther’s glory, its prosperity, and its safety; these are what you will lay your life on the line for, and you will do so with the pride and honor of the knighthood.

‘Stand, so you may never fall.

Fight, so you may never die.

Charge, so you may never fear.

On crimson earth and beneath blackened sky. With honor, we live.

With integrity, we fight.

Off our helms shines dawn’s light.

Be it through a forest of blades or arrows’ storm. To fight for our people, we have sworn.’ That is the oath you will take upon entering the knighthood.

It is the oath that will follow you until the day you die. Burn it into your souls, for when the day comes that you stand as knights in the service of Uther, their meaning will be clear to you. Now, I will bid you all goodnight. Sleep well, for you will need your strength.” He turned around and left the mess hall, so his words could sink in.

After dinner, the cadets returned to their various dorms, and

in the barracks, Noah listened to the excited and fearful conversations as he lay on his bed. The lack of privacy was annoying, but it seemed he had stumbled upon a treasure trove of information. He’d get answers without asking a single question. To his right was Gideon, the man he faced earlier. It seemed like he was simmering over their unfinished match. He was asleep, or at least he was pretending. The moment he saw Noah, he grew a scowl that had yet to wither.

Art of the Sword

 

Ebony skin, silver hair and eyes, and pointed ears; she was a

stunning beauty, drawing the gazes of both men and women. Her outfit didn’t reveal much skin, but her leather pants accentuated her curves, and her white shirt was tight-fitting. Noah found himself bewitched as well, despite her attempt to kill him just days earlier. The sun was rising on the first day at the academy, and he was gathered out in one of the training fields with about twenty others, ready to begin their lesson in swordsmanship from a national hero. At the moment, it wasn’t just a sense of honor that currently filled them.

“Good morning, all of you. I am Valia Zodiac, and I will be

your instructor in the art of the sword. Whatever your level of skill is, be you a total novice or self-proclaimed genius, you will receive the same level of tutelage. No matter how talented or experienced you think you are, you are still children in my eyes, and you have a lot to prove. Those of you who have already relinquished the thought of taking the path of a swordsman, know that just learning the basics from me will make you a force to be reckoned with.

Now, I want to get a sense of your skill levels, and there is

only one real way to figure it out.” She pointed to her left, where two barrels of varying types of swords had been put out. There was another pair of barrels to her right, full of hand-and-a-half swords, like most knights carried. “Those swords were donated by the blacksmiths of Uther, and I want each of you to pick one that fits your preferences. I want you to fight me with nothing less than the intent to kill.”

This shocked many cadets, mainly those who had gotten in

purely on magic ability. To suddenly fight a mock battle against Valia Zodiac required courage and affinity that they simply didn’t have. All the cadets rushed to the barrels to try to grab the best sword; hopefully, one that they were accustomed to using, or at least one that fit somewhat naturally in their inexperienced hands. Noah managed to snag a one-handed leaf-blade sword.

“You’re up first,” Valia said, pointing to one man. “Your

name?”

“Highroar, ma’am. Sorn Highroar.” Noah didn’t recognize

him from the brawl, meaning he was probably a mage.

“Well, like I said before, Cadet Highroar…” She drew her

sword, an elegant khopesh blade. “I want you to come at me with the intent to kill. However, you are not to use magic of any kind. The rest of you, step back and pay attention.”

The space was cleared, and the master and student faced each

other. She gave the word. Highroar, holding a longsword, appeared to be maintaining his courage and launched himself into a steady charge. He swung at her from the side with all of his strength, and she blocked with little effort. Their blades collided, and she simply flicked his away. She stepped forward and rested her blade on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

“I’d step back if I were you.”

He pulled away and was given enough time to form some

semblance of a stance. Valia went on the offense and swung wide like he had, but with a perfect pose and execution. Her attack broke through his guard and narrowly missed slicing him, done so intentionally. Once more, she let him steady himself.

“Again!” she ordered. He tried once more to attack her, only

to be knocked to the ground with the same ease. “That’s enough. I see you have much to learn, but fear not, for I will turn you into a proper knight. Go back among the others. You, you’re next.”

“Cadet Ken Rilgis, ma’am.”

The young man who stepped forward was armed with a

scimitar, and with just his stance and sharp eyes, he displayed his experience. He shot towards her and made an elegant swing. Valia deflected it with the tip of her sword, but before she could lean in for the counter, his next attack came, forcing her to block. He was fast, able to pull back from a swing before she could parry it and immediately try again. Ting! Ting! Ting! She blocked three attacks and was then blocked in turn when she retaliated.

They continued on like this, with Rilgis managing to barely

hold his own. He displayed some notable finesse, but Valia was still lazy with her movements, able to block and attack with minimal effort. He wasn’t even a challenge, and he was soon knocked to the ground.

“Decent. You can rejoin the others. You, you’re—”

“Wait! One more chance!” Rilgis exclaimed. “Now, now, don’t get too ahead of yourself. All the children

get a turn.”

The class continued like that, with Valia putting the cadets

through their paces. Noah observed each match with meticulous eyes, studying her movements and patterns. Her skill certainly lived up to the reputation. She was an unreachable enemy, humoring her students, and even after defeating them, not a single silver hair was out of place. As for the cadets, some of them displayed skill and talent, but not many and not much. However, when fighting Valia, anyone would look weak in comparison.

Eventually, Noah was chosen to step before the ranks. He

faced her and readied his stance. He had no desire to stand out, so his plan was to last just until the third exchange and then take a dive. He was used to holding himself back to avoid unwanted attention. In past lives, he’d play the role of the average student, the unremarkable employee, the simple citizen.

He zoomed in. Swing. Block. Counter. Block. Thrust. He

went through the motions, using the same skill level as those before him, and then let her knock his sword from his hand. “Damn,” Noah chirped as he reached down to pick it up.

“You’re not done yet.”

He stopped. “Ma’am?”

All the other cadets similarly perked up. Several had dropped

their swords during their bouts with her due to intimidation or inexperience, and she never said a word.

“I need you to come at me with everything you have, so I

know what I have to work with.”

“Ma’am, that was all I could do. You didn’t leave me with much room to maneuver.”

“You didn’t flinch once and barely blinked. Your breathing

remained steady the whole time. I didn’t faze you at all, yet you could only fight at that level?”

“I’m used to fighting with a spear and don’t have much

experience with a sword,” he said as he reached down to retrieve his blade.

She grabbed his hand and turned his palm upwards. “These

aren’t the calluses of a spearman. This is not a request, nor is it a game. Shyness has no place here or on the battlefield. You will fight me with everything you have, just as you will fight the enemies of Uther. Understand?” It was rare for someone to see through his guises like that. Was it because she was an elf, or warrior’s intuition? He faced her once more. “Begin.”

Noah remained unwilling to reveal his real skill, but he had

to feed her something. This time, he went on the offensive and upped his speed a little while deteriorating his balance and agility. He wore an expression of frustration and tried to look desperate. Valia allowed him to push her back while she measured his strength, but soon enough, she slipped past his guard and put her sword to his throat.

“How much longer are you going to play the fool?” she

hissed.

“Lady Zodiac, I mean no disrespect. I’d be very grateful if

you could let this go. I just—”

“Enough. Go back to the barracks and collect your things.

You’re done here.” She turned away from him in disgust and was about to call up another cadet.

“Wait,” Noah said. In his mind, he was cursing. ‘So much for

blending in.’ “One more chance.”

“I have no desire to waste any more time on you.”

“A drop of blood.”

“Excuse me?”

“If I can spill just one drop of your blood, you’ll let me stay

in the academy. That sounds like a fair wager, right?”

Her sour mood softened, and the rest of the cadets were

bewildered. None of them had been able to so much as ruffle her clothes.

“Very well. I’ll give you one last chance. But this time, I

won’t hold back either. You might not make it out of here in one piece.”

“Thank you. Do you mind if I select a different sword?”

“If you need to. Choose wisely, as I don’t want you claiming

that the sword is the problem.”

Noah returned to the barrels and grabbed a sword without

glancing at the others. However, everyone else had rejected it for blatant reasons, and they stared in confusion when they saw it. It was a large claymore with an oversized guard and blade, heavy enough to throw the wielder off their balance and almost as tall. The thick blade, rusty and dull, had a crack halfway up. It looked like some blacksmith’s early attempt, likely deemed a failure before ever seeing battle. He faced Valia once more and raised the sword.

“That’s the sword you want?”

“Yeah, this’ll do.”

To the cadets, he simply assumed a stance, but Valia’s eyes,

sharper than her sword, saw everything. She saw his focus, his killing intent. He wasn’t looking at her as an instructor, but as an enemy to destroy. Her instincts were being proven right. The next moment, he shot towards her like an arrow, surprising everyone with his speed. He raised the blade and dropped it towards her like a great hammer, and rather than block it, she stepped out of reach and let it bury itself in the ground, then stepped in for a sideways slash.

Noah launched himself forward, using his sword like a pole

vault to raise the pommel and block her counter. He then kicked the buried tip, knocking it back towards her into an uppercut attack. She stepped to the side to dodge, and Noah swung his leg up and once more kicked the blade towards her. She blocked the attack, only for a third kick to the blade to force her to disengage.

She stepped back, given no time by Noah, as he swung at her

from all sides. The sword’s weight and reach made it clumsy, but he used that to his advantage. He blended his moves together, not a single spark of energy going to waste. He’d swing wide, and if Valia dodged, he’d use the rotational momentum and spin around to make a second attempt. If their blades locked together, he’d swerve around to the side to catch her with the longer reach of his sword. When its weight proved unwieldy, he’d kick the blade towards her to enhance the attack and try to catch her off guard.

As long as he kept moving, continued harnessing the sword’s

momentum, he could control its trajectory better than if he paused between attacks. His movements were broad and obvious, but also fast, and any gaps opened for only a moment and then sealed back up. He kept showing her his back, something a foolish newbie would do, but Valia knew that if she tried to strike, she’d be the true fool, and his defenses would close around her like a bear trap. He had total control of his breathing, pushing his body to its limit so that he could sustain this bombastic assault even as seasoned warriors would be left exhausted.

Despite his skill, Valia neutralized every one of his attacks,

always blocking or stepping out of the way. When Noah fought the Harajin, he recognized them as skilled assassins, masters of combat, but she clearly ranked above them, and he sat somewhere in that margin. What surprised him, though, was what she did when she finally stepped back out of his range, taking an offensive stance with a smile on her face, embodying a coy predator that had found something capable of putting up a real fight.

“Now we’re talking. You can attack, but I want to see how

well you can defend.”

Noah flashed a grin and readied himself. “Let’s go wild.” She leaped towards him, attacking not as an instructor

sparing with a pupil, but as a true warrior. Noah blocked the first downward swing, managed to parry the attack from the right, and avoided a sharp thrust to the center. She was attacking mainly from the sides, so he kept his sword pointed downward and used it as a narrow shield to block her. However, her moves increased in speed, and Noah was soon forced to change his tactics.

He went on the attack, swinging from the left, and let her

block and repel the attack, but Noah grabbed the blade with his bare hand and closed the distance, this time shoving her with the edge. Half-swording—it was a technique in which the user gripped the sword by the blade for greater thrust and leverage, or to hammer the enemy with the pommel, perfect for an unsharpened edge. In this case, he was holding it by both the handle and the center of the blade. It left him with a short reach, so he didn’t give her any chance to create space. He got as close in as possible to more effectively attack and block.

Noah’s movements were rapid-fire, giving her no chance to

make a powerful swing. All the other cadets noticed the difference in how Valia was fighting. In their bouts, she’d let them push her back to coax them into fighting harder, but now, she was being forced to retreat for her own safety, and she was as surprised as they were.

In her long life, this wasn’t the first time someone had used

half-swording against her, but never in such a style as Noah’s. At the moment, she had no idea of the nostalgia flowing through him. The weapons were different, but the moves were the same as when he was training for the Marine Corps and learning bayonet and buttstroke combat.

Soon enough, she began to get a sense of his moves and went

back on the offensive, pushing him back. Noah had anticipated her adaptability, expecting no less from a warrior like her, and moved on to the next stage of his plan. Her attacks were coming from the sides once more, and Noah blocked and deflected them all, just waiting for the right moment.

Finally, she raised her sword for a crushing downward strike

to hammer through his guard. He blocked the attack, and while it drew blood from his palm, it gave him what he wanted. The force of her attack was the last blow needed for the cracked blade to finally snap, drawing frightful gasps from the other cadets. For the briefest moment, Valia displayed utter shock and worry. Had she gone too far? It was time to call this off.

No hesitation, Noah spun around and kicked her in the

stomach with all of his strength, sending her flying. All the cadets gasped once more in awe and horror. He had actually managed to land a blow. It wasn’t the drop of blood he had promised, but Valia Zodiac, the Sword Goddess, had been struck. The kick had pushed most of the air out of her lungs and knocked her off balance. She staggered back to reform her stance, but Noah wouldn’t let her get away.

Chasing after her, he grabbed the snapped blade and threw it

like a knife. She narrowly reformed her guard and deflected it. It flipped through the air back to him, and he caught it, then lashed out with both halves of the sword. With their weight split up, he could now attack and defend simultaneously. Valia had said that only one sword could be used in the match, but Noah’s fight with the Harajin had reminded him of the strength of dual-wielding combat. He lunged, hurling slashes and jabs as quickly as his body would allow. Valia was once more on defense, trying to regain her bearings.

She finally jumped back out of his reach and reformed her

stance. She appeared out of breath and visibly sweating for the first time, with a lock of silver hair now hanging out of place, but she was also smiling, as she now understood that Noah had planned this, every stage of the battle. He picked that sword, broken and worthless, with the three fighting styles in mind. Such ingenuity and recklessness, but with the skill to back it up.

All of her instincts told her that she had to stop, that things

were becoming too dangerous, and that she had to abide by her responsibilities as a teacher. But the way her heart was beating, the way her sweat made her shirt stick to her skin, the way her fingers clenched her weapon so tight that they hurt; it was exhilarating. How long would it be until she could enjoy herself like this? If she let this battle end, she’d always regret it. She wasn’t going to back down. She wanted to see how far this would go.

She again went on the offensive and came at him in the form

of a tornado of death. Noah faced her with the same strength and tenacity. In his right hand, he held the handle of the broken sword to catch her attacks, as well as send some of his own. The shard, held in his left hand, was his main form of offense. Because it didn’t have a handle, he couldn’t apply much force and had to be light in his strikes, but just a scrape would be enough to end it. He used every trick and maneuver he could think of, almost juggling the two blades. Still, he was just barely keeping up with her.

Valia’s sword mastery was like nothing he had ever seen

before. The speed of her moves was matched by their complexity. She could switch and reverse her grip on her sword so easily, even spinning it around her fingers like a propeller. It was as if her sword was a shapeshifting liquid, becoming whatever she needed it to be with each passing second. It was the same with her body, every movement made without even the slightest delay or hesitation, as if she could see the future. After living more than a hundred lifetimes, Noah had encountered his deadliest opponent.

The two of them were at a stalemate, one that left the other

cadets in stunned silence. Not only had Noah outlasted them, but he had also outclassed them. Most couldn’t even follow the movements, as the two fighters had become a living blur, blocking, attacking, deflecting, and dodging at near-impossible speeds. How could a human do this without magic?

The sound of blades colliding was like the ringing of sleigh

bells, while the sparks produced could be seen clearly, even in the summer sun. With both Noah’s skills and Valia’s so brilliantly displayed, many young men and women didn’t know what to think, didn’t know how to process it.

Some watched while trembling, fearful of the killing abilities

they were witnessing. They knew how quickly their lives would be lost if they tried to fight such a battle, and what little chance they’d have of survival if they made enemies of these two. Despite the warmth of the morning, others shivered as despair filled their stomachs like cold mud. The dreams nurtured by their pride had now been trampled. This was a chasm they could never hope to cross, a level of strength forever out of their reach. A few watched with steely eyes, grateful to be where they were. They knew that to witness combat like this was nothing short of a privilege, and they tried to learn everything they could.

Finally, Noah and Valia separated, the two of them gasping

for air and pouring sweat. Noah’s hand was bleeding from gripping the sword shard, and his clothes had plenty of tears from narrow misses of Valia’s sword. For all his effort, he managed to leave a single scratch on her cheek, from which budded a lone drop of blood.

“I think we’ll end it there,” she said. “If we fought any

harder, magic would inevitably get involved, and if that happens, one of us would probably be killed.” If her magic was as powerful as her skills, Noah was sure he would be the one to die. Were he in his prime, he could have easily defeated her, but that was a long time ago, and he had grown rusty.

“I agree. Thank you, Lady Zodiac. That was a good match.”

“You’ve impressed me and given me a fight I will long

remember. I’ll have to keep my eye on you.”

She stepped forward and examined his injured hand like

before. Her movements were gentle, with a tender look on her face. Noah was subtle with his glances, memorizing every detail. His heartbeat was unstable, and not because of the fight. He had encountered dwarves and various beastmen, as well as seen a few elves from a distance, but being so close to Valia, this elegant creature, sent a tremor through him that he so rarely got to experience.

“Since you’re a cadet, I should chastise you for doing

something so reckless.” She looked him in the eyes. Her own gleamed like diamonds. There was depth to them, depth he had never seen in humans. She called him a cadet, but it was evident in her eyes that she didn’t see him as one.

“Technically, yes, you should. But realistically?”

She gave a huff of amusement and smiled. “I’ll leave you to

wrap your hand up. You can get it healed in the infirmary on your own time.” She then cleared her throat and turned to the rest of the cadets. “Now, who’s next?”

Noah returned to the group, and it parted like the Red Sea,

mostly. A few of the more hyperactive cadets began cheering and congratulating him on his skills. Ken Rilgis, the sharp-eyed youth from earlier, even approached and respectfully bowed his head. “That was an amazing thing to witness. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied with a cheerful façade. He had hoped to blend in among the cadets and go unnoticed.

Unfortunately, that plan had been blown out of the water on his first day. He had to now focus on twisting the result to his benefit. If he could not be invisible, he could at least manipulate how he was seen. He humbly accepted praise from all those who gave it, shaping their first impressions of him while they were still malleable. Hopefully, his skills would put off potential enemies, and his mild-mannered acting would lower everyone else’s guard and make it easier for him to get what he wanted.

While Valia continued to gauge the other cadets, Noah went

to work fixing his hand. Along with their uniforms, each cadet had been given a canteen and a small pouch full of bandages. However, healing and mana potions were forbidden. It wasn’t much, but the bandages were clean, and Noah could treat his wounds. Soon enough, the rest of the cadets had been defeated, none of them putting up much of a fight, and Valia faced the crowd.

“Well done. Now I know what level each of you is on.

Yesterday, you were told that the only weapons you can use are those the academy provides. What you weren’t told is that you are required to carry an academy weapon with you at all times. The standard is a sword, unless you can use warrior magic for a different weapon.” She held out her arm to the barrels to her right. “Each of you, return those practice swords and take one of these. They are what you’ll be using for all training and battles. Do not draw them until I say so.”

Noah and the other cadets obeyed. They brought back the

donated swords, and each took their new partners. Once everyone had one, Valia ordered them to be unsheathed. Immediately, cadets were exclaiming in shock and confusion while holding broken swords, some even snapping off after only an inch.

Intrigued, Noah held his sword straight up and carefully

lifted the scabbard. Glass, the blade was made of glass. In the corner of his eye, he caught Valia glancing at him, perhaps curious as to how he’d react. “Ok, you have my attention,” he muttered. Did she hear him? He thought she made a slight chuckle.

“This is how I learned to wield a sword, and if you can

master it, you will be the greatest warriors of your generation.” She picked one herself and drew it without it snapping. “As you can see, you are each wielding glass blades. The glass on its own is strong enough not to break under its own weight, no matter how it is held or swung.”

She waved it in all directions, performing various tricks and

acrobatics to prove its durability. “What you can’t see are the runes on the tang, granting it two enchantments. The first enhances its durability, but only under specific circumstances. If your swing and the angle at which you hold your sword are perfect, the glass will never even crack.”

She held out her khopesh and hammered the glass sword

against its back. Her swing was perfectly vertical, same with how she held it. Though it should have broken into a thousand pieces, it didn’t receive even a chip. She continued smashing the two of them together at varying angles, always keeping the sword focused in the same direction as her swing, and it never broke.

“However, if you are off by even a single degree….” She tapped the glass sword against her khopesh. The sword’s

angle was off, if only slightly, and it was a gentle hit, but the blade snapped like a thin icicle. It didn’t shatter into several small pieces like standard glass, but simply broke in two. Valia knelt and joined the broken ends of the sword.

“As you can see, there is no margin for error. That is the first

enchantment. However, even if it breaks, the second enchantment allows the blade to repair itself. Simply hold the pieces together like setting a broken bone and channel your mana into the handle. The blade will heal in seconds.”

She lifted the sword, and it was as new. “Lady Zodiac, what about blocking?” Ken asked. “If these

blades are made of glass, won’t they just snap if we try to defend?”

“You bring up an excellent point. Every swordfighter worth

their salt knows to never block an attack edge-to-edge, as it’ll wreck your blade. Here, take this.” She reached into one of the nearby barrels and drew a steel sword from the sparring matches, then tossed it at him, nearly making Ken stumble to catch it. “Now, take a swing at me.”

He seemed uncertain for a moment, then stepped forward and

slashed with all of his strength. Valia blocked the attack edge-to-edge, and to the continued shock of the cadets, the glass sword showed no damage whatsoever, while the steel blade was chipped from the collision.

“Your blocks and parries must follow the same principle as

your attacks. If you focus your edge perfectly in the same direction as you’re exerting your strength, you can destroy enemy weapons without ever going on the offensive. Keep in mind, every time you use this technique, it must be absolutely perfect. When you become knights, you can choose your style of blocking, whether you go the traditional way or my way, but this is the path to true sword mastery.

I want all of you to hook the sheaths to your belts, opposite

from your dominant hand, and form a ring around me, no less than ten feet apart.” The cadets took their positions, and she secured a cadet sword to her belt and assumed the directed stance. “Before you can begin wielding your sword, obviously, you have to be able to draw it first.”

She drew the sword in the blink of an eye and swung it at an

invisible enemy. “You have to draw the sword perfectly straight, without twisting the blade or dragging it out of its sheath. Otherwise, the blade will break. Keep practicing until you can do it ten times in a row, then work on increasing your speed.”

Noah and the other cadets spent the next hour repeatedly

trying to draw their swords without any damage. Even he found it rather difficult, as while he managed to successfully pull out his sword more times than anyone else, it was only one out of every dozen attempts. Noah welcomed the challenge, this new method of studying swordplay. Without magic, training like this would never have been possible.

At the moment, the cadets’ combined attempts sounded like a

china shop during an earthquake. Each time their swords broke, the cadets had to pour in their mana, and after repeated attempts, the drain became impossible to ignore. Noah could sense the building frustration in many cadets, hear the subtle cursing and enraged nasal breathing, threatening to lead to full-blown tantrums. There was a noticeable ripple every time he drew his sword successfully.

Valia paced around them, studying their technique and trying

to offer advice where she could, be it how they bent their shoulders or the angle they drew from. There was little help she could give, as this most basic foundation couldn’t be taught, only learned through repetition. Halfway through the class, Valia stopped them.

“By now, even if you haven’t mastered drawing your sword,

you should have a sense of the dexterity and accuracy needed to handle it. I expect you to practice drawing it in your spare time until you can do it perfectly. For now, we’re going to move on to the next stage. Follow me over here.”

She led the class to an array of wooden constructs, each

featuring a log, a meter in diameter, propped up at chest height. The ends of the logs, displaying fresh saw marks, had been painted like a compass, splitting into eight sections.

“Head, right shoulder, right side, right leg, chest, left leg, left

side, and left shoulder. The lines depict the eight basic directions in which you attack your enemy, and you will use them to practice your attacks. You’ll be swinging at them every lesson. This will teach you how to control the angle of your swing.”

Valia swung at the nearest log with her khopesh. She went

with the grain at an improper angle and buried it in the edge of the wood. She then used her glass sword and swung at a different spot, against the grain at a perfect angle. Not only did the blade not shatter, but it also matched the depth.

“The slightest adjustment in the direction makes all the

difference in the world. Regardless of your prowess or experience, it is whether or not your sword breaks that determines your actual skill. Every time you have to repair it, I want to think about every time you’ve used a sword before, every time you failed to cut through enemy defenses or slay a monster. The reason for your failure will be made clear.

All the times you succeeded, realize that victory came

DESPITE your skill level, not because of it. You could learn the most elegant and deadly moves in the world of swordsmanship, but if your sword still breaks against this wood, then you’ll never reach true mastery. For today, just attack in whatever way you’re most comfortable and don’t worry about technique. The focus is purely on how you hold the sword. Now, begin.”

The cadets spread out, each taking a target to practice on. All

still struggled to draw their swords, so attacking without the blades breaking was a daunting task. Noah made his first swing, a downward slash across his imagined foe’s chest, only for the blade to snap and get stuck in the wood.

Around him, every other cadet had similarly failed, snapping

their swords. The broken shards lay stuck in the wood, soft enough to catch any attack and prevent a ricochet. He and the other cadets retrieved and repaired their blades and went at it again. CRACK! The blades were once more broken. This went on for the rest of the morning, swinging from the eight directions and trying desperately to get the angle right. The sound of glass breaking was constant, but blades would sporadically get buried in the wood intact. A perfect swing, just one of the infinite they had to produce. For Noah, the challenge was more amusing than frustrating.

While all this was going on, other classes proceeded

throughout the academy, teaching various techniques. Weapons could be heard striking, along with shouts and grunts of pain and effort, and bodies hitting the ground. Warrior magic—magic that enhanced the abilities of weapons and their users—most often manifested for swords, bows, shields, spears, and clubs; therefor, the academy used that to create the cadets’ schedules. Today, Noah and his assigned class would train with swords, and the day after, he’d move on to bows. Five days of work, followed by two days of rest, resulting in a seven-day week.

Everyone was grateful beyond words when midday finally

arrived, and Valia gave the order to stop. They were all drenched in sweat, with blistered hands.

“You’ve all done well today. Now, go fill your bellies.

Remember to keep your sword with you at all times and to practice whenever you can. I expect you all to be able to draw your swords flawlessly when next I see you.

Cadet Noah, a word?”

The others departed while exchanging glances of curiosity

and intrigue. Noah sheathed his glass sword and approached. “Yes, ma’am?”

Valia waited until the cadets were no longer in earshot. An

owl hooted nearby, but otherwise, all was quiet. “My curiosity and pride as a swordswoman would be crying if I did not ask this: Where did you learn to fight?”

Hopefully, she wouldn’t see through him this time. “My

father trained me relentlessly. He claimed he was some great warrior back in the day and didn’t want it to all go to waste. When he was drunk, he’d joke that on the day I was born, he forced a dagger into my hands and made me cut my own cord. He was killed by a sledgepaw this past winter.”

“Ah, my condolences.” Her pause seemed sincere. “What

was his name? Maybe I’ve heard of him?”

“Steven the Bold. It’s the only name he ever gave, but I have

yet to meet anyone who knew about his glory days.”

“That’s a shame. I must admit that I am not familiar with that

name either. You, on the other hand, your skills impressed me, and you’ll go far in the knighthood. However, you should watch out. Factions will start building soon, and many will try to lure you into their folds.”

“I wasn’t aware of that. Thanks for the warning.” Those eyes, so focused. Noah was confident in his ability to

hide his tells, but their battle had shown the power of her intuition. Trying to hide under his façade felt like shielding himself against a flamethrower with a sheet of plywood.

“I think you had some idea. I probably wouldn’t be off the

mark to say you dropped your sword on purpose in the first round because you were trying to avoid it. While I do sympathize with the pressure about to be put on you, intentional weakness is still weakness, and is not something a knight should be doing. That kind of hesitancy will get you and others killed.”

“With all due respect, I have no qualms with ending the lives

of others on the battlefield if that’s what you’re worried about. I assure you that I will erase Uther’s enemies when the time comes. I simply wish not to make a spectacle of myself unless it is necessary.”

“To intentionally drop your weapon dishonors me as your

teacher and yourself as a student. I need you to treat these lessons with the same seriousness you treat the battlefield.”

Noah bowed his head. “Yes, ma’am. I will.” Valia seemed irked by the response. Whether she had spotted

a tell or it was instinct, she wasn’t satisfied by his answer.

“It looks like you have something you wish to say. You can

speak freely, cadet.”

He felt her seriousness. Just like before, if he came at her

with nothing less than total honesty, she’d see right through him. He really didn’t want to anger her a second time.

“Very well, ma’am. You tell me I need to take your lessons

seriously, but I also need to think beyond them, don’t I? I threw the first fight for the sake of every fight that would come after. With my skills now public knowledge, my future opponents will be less likely to underestimate me, less likely to drop their guard, meaning I’ve lost the element of surprise. I take that very seriously.”

“Is that not the whole point of enrolling in this academy?

You’re here to learn and develop new skills for combat. It was inevitable that you’d have to fight seriously and let people see you. How long do you think you could have coasted by hiding your abilities?”

“Long enough, ma’am, and until I do develop those new

skills, I need every advantage I can get. The sooner people know my abilities, the sooner they can develop countermeasures. I chose to lose a sparring match to my teacher in an academic setting, rather than risk getting killed in the future because my enemies would know my strength.”

“You’re here to become a knight of Uther. You will live,

fight, and possibly die for this nation. Instead of hiding your strength from potential enemy cadets, shouldn’t you be making them into your allies? You will be part of an order, with people who will depend on you just as you’ll have to depend on them.”

“I know how to depend on people. I know they are valuable

and necessary.”

“Necessary to preserve your own life, right? To fulfill your

own goals? That’s not how we do things around here. You’re thinking long-term about yourself, but I need to think long-term for this country.”

“Aren’t you focusing too much on the short-term? It’s a

choice you may not like, but you know it was the right one.”

Valia’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me? Do not presume to

know what I think.”

“You’re an elf, are you not? You’ve seen how far the choices

we make ripple out. Years, decades, centuries can pass before consequences lose their momentum. A human teacher would obsess over a sparring match on the first day at the academy, but I’m rather disappointed that you would as well. I figured you would have a better sense of perspective. You of all people should know how easy life can be thrown into chaos, and how insignificant the things we deem important really are.”

He saw it, the slight tremor in her expression, alerting him