Overwhelming Firepower

Under the moonlit sky, while everyone was drinking and having fun conversing about the match between Lucen and Eisen, there was someone training.

Elyra Runescar had started training the moment she arrived home—she didn’t even change clothes.

Her crimson red hair, the shade of fresh-spilled blood, swayed and glimmered with every movement, catching the moonlight as though she were a flame burning alone in the quiet courtyard.

Her breath came out steady, controlled, measured, each exhale a disciplined promise to herself.

Her longsword moved alongside her body. Each of her movements made it look like she was dancing.

She was not practicing for the sake of beauty, yet her movements possessed it, sharp, fluid, purposeful.

The silver edge of her sword reflected the moonlight, tracing arcs in the cold air. With every strike, the ground beneath her feet scraped, the tiles whispering under her boots.

’Lucen.’

She once again envisioned that match. If she were the one against Eisen, she might not have lasted long before she was defeated.

She did image training with Eisen and Lucen as her opponents. With Eisen as her opponent, she had won four out of ten times.

Even against someone at that level, she could picture herself winning, but when she did imagine Lucen as her opponent, the outcome was pretty one-sided.

No matter what she did, no matter how she moved, she could not even imagine herself touching the other party, much less winning against him.

She stopped mid-swing. Elyra looked at the full moon outside and took a deep breath as she closed her eyes.

’Even now I can’t picture my sword being able to reach him, much less gaining victory from him.’

She simulated countless scenarios in her mind to visualize her way through her opponent. But, no matter what she did or how she moved, it felt like Lucen would be able to predict them.

She tried again. A step forward. A feint. A downward cut. A spin. A thrust. A parry, and a counter. She imagined Lucen’s movements again, faster than her mind could predict.

Lucen slipped past every strike in her mind’s eye. Even in her imagination, her strongest hit felt sluggish compared to his.

Even her fastest footwork felt predictable. Even her most precise technique faltered under the hazy memory of his movements.

Her sword cut through empty air again and again, yet she forced herself to stay calm, searching for the rhythm hidden in his imagined strikes.

’What am I lacking? Why can’t my sword reach you?’

Elyra grit her teeth, not in anger, but in an unfamiliar bitterness. She was not used to failure, not used to doubt. Her entire life had been shaped, refined, and polished into a blade designed to cut through anything that stood before her.

She, who had been praised as a prodigy, a genius of the sword, since she was young. She, who continued to train to be able to cut everything in front of her.

She, who was like a sword, sharp and unhesitating, had found a wall that she could not cut through.

Doubt was an unfamiliar companion. Her life had always been about clarity, precision, and control. To feel uncertainty clawing at her mind was rather distracting.

”My lovely daughter, training without even eating your dinner.” Kaelvar suddenly appeared behind Elyra.

Elyra didn’t turn around immediately. She kept her blade lowered, breathing once, twice, three times before slowly facing him.

Her father’s silhouette stood framed by the moonlight, a towering figure with messy hair and a relaxed posture, completely the opposite of the polished nobles in the capital.

”I’ll eat later,” Elyra responded.

”Is that so. Hm... I’m guessing that now than ever before, you’re having a problem picturing winning against Lucen.”

Elyra did not answer immediately. She turned her gaze away from him, looking at the ground where her repeated strikes had chipped the tiles.

”…Yes,” she finally admitted. Her voice didn’t shake, but it wasn’t steady either. ”No matter how many times I try to imagine it… I can’t see myself winning. I thought that after all that training, this time my sword would be able to reach, but it seems like I just got farther away from him.”

Kaelvar crossed the distance in a few large steps and stood beside her, not looming, not looking down, but simply existing in that quiet space with her.

He stared at the moonlit courtyard, and then he looked at his daughter.

”Well, I guess that’s normal, after witnessing that match he had with Eisen Terre. I even wanted to jump then and there to play with them. Those two have gone beyond the limitations.”

”Then what should I do? How can I win against Lucen? How can I, how can my sword reach him?” Elyra lowered her head, and the hand holding the hilt of her longsword tightened.

”Asking so many questions? So many hows and what are swirling in your mind. What’s the point of thinking so much about all this? How can you win against Lucen? How can your sword reach? Didn’t we already have a similar conversation before?”

”I know that, but no matter what, I can’t even imagine my sword ever reaching him. No matter how fast or sharp my sword becomes, it always seems like it won’t reach him.”

Hearing the concerns of his daughter, Kaelvar sighed and shook his head. ”Hm... Your mindset is wrong, my daughter. You keep on asking questions on how to win, on how to make your sword reach him. But all those things don’t matter.”

Kaelvar took out a coin from his pocket and threw it behind Elyra. It was at that moment, Kaelvar, with quick, swift movements, drew his heavy sword from behind and slashed at Elyra.

The sword did not reach her, but she could feel a breeze pass by as her father swung the sword in front of her.

She then heard the sound of two coins falling to the ground, but he only saw that her father had tossed one. Elyra turned around and saw that the coin that was thrown behind her was cut in half.

When he sliced the coin in half, he let his eyes linger on Elyra’s reaction. ”You see, my cute daughter? Moving forward comes not from imagining your enemy, but from imagining the path your own will should take. Everything else is noise.”

Kaelvar sheathed his sword and showed a gentle and caring look as he continued speaking.

”Stop thinking about so many things, and only focus on the sword in your hand and on the thing you want to cut down. I’m sure it’s not Lucen that you want to cut, right?”

When Elyra heard what her father said, the words struck her harder than any sword blow. She suddenly came to a realization. It was true, Lucen wasn’t the one she wanted to cut.

Her gaze lowered to her hand. The hilt of her sword trembled slightly with her grip. The truth was, she wasn’t frustrated that she could not reach him.

What frustrated her was, none other than, herself. What she truly wanted to cut was her weak self.

Yes, what she wanted to cut was never Lucen; it was her weak mindset and her hesitations. ’I see, so that’s how it was.’

A long breath escaped her lungs, slow, steady, freeing. Her shoulders dropped, her fingers relaxed, and her eyes sharpened.

When the realization came to her, a bright smile appeared on Elyra’s face as her aura burst outward.

What was once an aura like a fiery explosion became more refined. It was at that moment that Elyra’s two aura mantles seemed to be changing.

Another mantle appeared, and though it was faint, there was now a third mantle that appeared enveloping Elyra.

”Congratulations, my lovely, talented daughter. You are now the youngest Third Mantle aura user in Norvaegard.”

Moonlight caught the edges of Elyra’s new mantle, illuminating it like a halo. She looked at her father with a gorgeous smile on her face.

”Thank you, Father.”

Kaelvar, who also had a smile on his face, shook his head. ”There’s no need to thank me. I didn’t do anything; it’s all you, my wonderful daughter. You have cut down the old weak you, you have cut down your hesitations and all those messy thoughts, and have emerged a better you.”

Kaelvar’s voice softened, though it still carried that wild undercurrent that defined him. He ruffled Elyra’s hair lightly, a habit she always pretended to dislike but never truly protested.

”Now then,” he continued. ”Since you’ve already bettered yourself. It’s time to eat. Once you’re done filling your belly, I’ll teach you more of the Runescar sword forms. Since you’re now at the third mantle, your body should be able to handle it.”

Elyra nodded firmly and sheathed her sword. As she walked beside Kaelvar, her steps felt lighter, steadier.

For the first time since the tournament began, she wasn’t weighed down by doubt. Her mind was clear.

She was no longer thinking about winning or losing against Lucen. She was now only thinking about how to better herself.

***

In the Thornehart estate, Lucen with Eisen, Sir Thalos, Robert, and the members of Thornefang were having a meal together.

Robert was having a heated discussion with Eisen about how to use a certain spell efficiently. They also reeled Lucen into the conversation.

The group ate their meals with smiles on their faces, and unlike Elyra, Lucen was not bothered by the upcoming finals. Even now, he truly believed that victory was already in his hands.