Overwhelming Firepower

Catherine Gate, the daughter of a simple baron, was born blind. Her father and mother, learning their daughter was born without sight, were devastated; still, no matter what, they loved their daughter so much more.

They called for clerics, they called for wandering healers, mages, and even alchemists. But no matter who came, the result was the same. There was nothing to heal.

Her eyes were not wounded. Her body was not cursed. There was no poison, no disease, no evil spirit, and no strange mana twisting her sight. She had simply been born that way.

For a noble house, even a small one like House Gate, this was not a small matter. Nobles were expected to lead, fight, manage territory, attend gatherings, and represent their house with dignity.

A blind daughter was seen by many as a misfortune. Yet the Baron and his wife did not care; all they knew, all they understood was that this was their beloved daughter, a gift given by the deities.

As she grew older, Catherine’s talent was quickly noticed. Even though blind, she could see much better than those with sight.

Her senses were much sharper than most, from her sense of smell to her hearing. Not only that, but even before gaining her mana core, she was able to sense the mana surrounding her.

Since in this world most things had mana, even those normal humans without mana cores leaked out mana. Even inanimate objects had some sort of mana attached, meaning she was able to sense all of that, making that her way to move around.

At first, her parents thought it was only a small blessing from the deities.

Their daughter could not see with her eyes, but at the very least, she could move around without constantly needing someone to guide her.

However, as Catherine grew older, they realized that it was far more than that.

She could tell who was entering the room before they spoke. She could sense the position of chairs, tables, walls, doors, and people.

She could even tell when someone was hiding behind a wall as long as they were somewhere within the range of her senses.

To Catherine, the world was not dark. It was simply different. She did not see colors, faces, or written words. She did not know what the blue sky looked like, nor did she know the exact shape of her parents’ smiles.

But she knew the warmth of her mother’s mana. She knew the steady presence of her father.

She knew the difference between a wooden table, a stone wall, a blade of steel, and a living person standing still.

Her world was made of sound, scent, touch, and mana. Because of this, Catherine learned to move without fear.

At first, the servants were nervous whenever she walked alone through the manor. They would follow her from a distance, ready to catch her if she stumbled.

But Catherine rarely stumbled. She walked calmly through hallways, avoided furniture, and stopped before doors as if she could truly see them.

By the time she was ten years old, she could move through the entire manor without assistance.

By the time she was twelve, she could walk through the garden without stepping on a single flower.

With her ability to sense mana, she quickly grew into a second-circle mage even before she entered the Royal Academy.

She was now fifteen years old and was said to be a genius on par with Robert Duskwell. If she continued to grow at her pace, she might even be able to surpass Robert.

She had also become quite the beauty. A slender young lady with pale ash-brown hair that fell neatly past her shoulders.

Her eyes were a soft, clouded silver, unfocused yet strangely calm, giving her the impression of someone looking at a place no one else could see.

She carried herself with quiet grace, each step measured and certain. Even though she held a cane in one hand, she did not move like someone helpless. If anything, her stillness made her seem more aware than those around her.

When she first came to Caelhart, she was surprised by the mana of a few people. Even at a distance, she could feel the incredible amount of mana of the mages within each Mage Tower.

Yet among the mages in the Mage Tower, she sensed something amazing. There was one person whose mana seemed to be enveloping the entirety of Caelhart.

For the first time in her life, she was unable to pinpoint the exact location of the person from whom the mana came.

”You are an interesting young one.”

A person suddenly spoke beside her. It was at that moment that she knew that this person was the one who was emitting that powerful mana. That was the first time she had met the strongest mage of Norvaegard, Thelwin.

Catherine did not jump back. Instead, she slowly turned toward the voice and lowered her head.

”It is an honor to meet you, Sir.”

Thelwin looked at her for a few seconds before speaking. ”I see, you are Catherine Gate. It would seem that the rumors are true. You may be blind, but you see the world far more clearly than most.”

She and Thelwin had a rather lengthy conversation that day. She then met the instructors of the Royal Academy and the other students.

Many of them had very distinct mana signatures, but none were as surprising as Thelwin. Well, that was until she felt Lucen Thornehart’s mana.

His mana was unlike other she had seen; it was explosive. It’s like his mana was meant for nothing more than battle.

Yet at the same time, it was strangely controlled. Most people’s mana flowed through their bodies in a manner that reflected who they were.

Some were calm like still water. Some were sharp like a blade. Some were warm like sunlight.

Lucen Thornehart’s mana was different; it did not flow gently. Instead, it gathered, compressed, and waited.

To Catherine, it felt like countless small explosions being held back by sheer will.

That was what made it terrifying. If Thelwin’s mana was like the sky above Caelhart, vast and impossible to fully grasp, then Lucen’s mana was like a battlefield filled with thunder waiting to fall.

When she learned that he would become a special instructor at the Royal Academy, Catherine became curious.

When she heard that he would be teaching how to use those new weapons he created, that curiosity became interest.

When she heard him fight during the opening ceremony, that interest became something else entirely.

Catherine had not seen the duel with her eyes. She did not see Roderick Greymere’s axe break.

She did not see Lucen Thornehart change weapons and defeat five challengers one after another. But she heard everything, she sensed every motion.

She heard the way the air split when Lucen moved. She heard the dull weapons collide. She heard the shift of feet against stone, the trembling breaths of the challengers, and the silence of the crowd when each duel ended.

More than that, she sensed something incredible. Every time Lucen fought, the way his mana moved always changed. Normally, that was impossible; the flow of one’s mana was not supposed to change, that’s what she thought.

She had met many people and had sensed mana from many different beings, from the plants, the animals, the monsters, people, and even inanimate objects, but this was the first time she felt the flow of mana change so drastically, as if it was being used by a different person.

At first, Catherine thought she had made a mistake. Perhaps she had failed to understand what she had sensed. Perhaps Lucen Thornehart’s mana was simply too strange for her to read properly.

But after the second duel, then the third, then the fourth, Catherine understood that she had not been mistaken.

Lucen Thornehart’s mana did change. Not in the way a mage changed the flow of mana to cast a spell. Not in the way an aura user guides power through the body.

It was stranger than that. Each time he changed weapons, the rhythm around him changed as well.

His footsteps, breathing, grip, posture, and even the pressure he gave off shifted into something different. It was as if one person had become many.

Catherine did not know how such a thing was possible. That was why she became even more curious.

When the duels ended and the students were dismissed, Catherine did not immediately head toward her classroom. Instead, she followed the sound of rumors.

Several students were speaking about Lucen Thornehart’s special class. She went and heard how Lucen failed each and every one of them.

Hearing the loud noise of the revolver made Catherine even more curious. She had never used any weapon before, but she felt interested in trying this one.

The gun made a sharp cracking sound each time it was fired. The sound was loud enough to make a few students flinch, and each time that happened, Catherine could hear the tiny changes in their breathing.

Some held the weapon too tightly. Some loosened their grip too much after the first shot.

Some became excited after hitting the target once and immediately fired the next shot without adjusting their posture.

Catherine could not see the target, but she could sense the mana attached to the wooden dummies. The wood had a quiet, unmoving presence. Each time a bullet struck it, that presence trembled slightly.

From those small tremors, she could tell where the bullets landed. Too high, too low. Too far to the left, too far to the right.

A few students were accurate enough to hit the center several times, but Lucen still rejected them.

She was slowly understanding what the right amount of strength needed to pull the trigger was, how much the wind affects the trajectory of the bullet ever so slightly. She wanted to try to shoot as well.

She picked up one of the revolvers, and it was lighter than she expected it to be. Her fingers slowly moved across the weapon.

It was cold metal that had smooth curves and some hard edges. Catherine opened the cylinder and felt the empty chambers with her fingertips.

One by one, she placed the bullets inside. Once the revolver was fully loaded, she felt its weight. She closed the cylinder; the clicking sound made her strangely excited.

Catherine placed her finger on the trigger. She could feel the resistance. If she pulled too suddenly, the barrel would move. If she hesitated too long, her hand would stiffen.

She took a slow breath. The world around her became quiet. Unlike when she uses spells, this did not require forming mana or shaping an image in her mind.

This was much more direct; she could hear her heart beating faster as she pointed the revolver forward. Catherine pulled the trigger.

Bang!

The sound tore through the air, and for a brief moment, she felt it. The recoil against her palm, the bullet cutting forward. The very air trembling in its path. Then the wooden dummy shook.

The bullet pierced through the dummy’s head. She felt a sense of exhilaration as she repeated the same steps. The second shot she made entered through the same hole she fired the first time.

She was getting even more excited as she fired the third shot. The feeling of each shot reaching the target was a feeling like no other.

By the fourth shot, Catherine was no longer merely pulling the trigger. She was becoming one with the very bullet she fired.

The revolver kicked, the bullet flew, the air split, and the wooden dummy answered with a faint tremble. Each shot gave her information.

Each recoil told her how her wrist had shifted. Each impact told her how far the barrel had moved.

Bang!

The fourth bullet entered the same hole.

Bang!

The fifth followed.

Bang!

The sixth shot passed through the same spot as well.

Catherine slowly lowered the revolver. Her face had a wide grin on her face, as her fingers were trembling slightly. It was not from fear or from pain. It was from excitement.

For the first time in her life, she had felt something move farther than her hand could reach, faster than her steps could carry her, and yet still feel connected to her.

The bullet was gone the moment it left the barrel, but Catherine could follow it.

The sound, the recoil, the path through the air, and the trembling of the target. All of it returned to her like an answer.

This weapon, this small piece of cold metal in her hand, let her feel battle in a way she had never known before. As she was enjoying the afterglow of her excitement, she heard Lucen’s voice.

”You passed the first test.”