---
Chapter 8
The month before the competition passed more slowly than Ren expected.
Every day felt heavier than the last, weighed down by the knowledge that he was running out of time. The Triarc Youth Competition loomed ahead like a mountain—visible, unavoidable, and merciless to those unprepared.
Ren knew one thing clearly.
Raw magic alone would not be enough.
---
An Unexpected Reunion
Ren spotted the familiar figure near the eastern training grounds of Silverstream.
Darin.
The retired adventurer sat on a low wooden bench, one leg stretched out stiffly, a whetstone moving slowly along the edge of his old sword. His movements were careful, deliberate—those of a man who knew his limits too well.
Ren hesitated only a moment before approaching.
"Mister Darin."
Darin looked up, surprised, then smiled faintly. "Kid. Should've known you'd still be running around instead of resting."
Ren bowed politely. "I wanted to ask… if you could teach me."
Darin raised an eyebrow. "Teach you what?"
"Swordsmanship."
That earned a short laugh. "You're five."
"Six," Ren corrected calmly.
Darin studied him for a long moment. Not his body—but his eyes.
"…You're serious."
"Yes."
Silence stretched between them.
Finally, Darin sighed and tapped the ground with his blade. "I can't make you strong. Injury took that from me. And I won't teach fancy nonsense."
"That's fine," Ren replied. "I want the basics."
Darin snorted. "Then you'll get exactly that."
---
The Truth About Swordsmanship
Training began immediately.
Darin handed Ren a wooden practice sword—short, light, and clearly worn from years of use.
"Listen carefully," Darin said. "Swordsmanship isn't magic. It's repetition. Balance. And knowing when not to swing."
Ren nodded, absorbing every word.
"Your body is weak," Darin continued bluntly. "Too weak for power-based styles. So you don't fight like a warrior."
"Then how do I fight?" Ren asked.
Darin's eyes narrowed slightly.
"You fight like a mage who happens to hold a blade."
---
Early Beginner Level
Darin did not sugarcoat anything.
"You're at early beginner level," he said. "That means no forms. No chains. No flashy moves."
He demonstrated a single motion.
A clean, direct swing.
"This is Slash," Darin said. "No name worth remembering. No wasted movement. You swing to cut—or you don't swing at all."
Ren practiced until his arms trembled.
Again.
And again.
Each slash was corrected.
Too wide.
Too slow.
Off balance.
But slowly—painfully slowly—Ren began to understand.
Swordsmanship wasn't about strength.
It was about timing.
---
Adapting Magic Into Combat
Darin quickly noticed something unusual.
"You don't fight like a normal kid," he said after watching Ren dodge instinctively during sparring.
Ren didn't deny it.
"I use magic."
Darin grunted. "Show me."
Ren stepped back and focused.
Not Fireball.
Too wasteful.
He compressed heat tightly, shaping it into a narrow form.
Fire Spear.
A sharp, condensed lance of flame formed in midair and shot forward, piercing a training dummy cleanly before dispersing.
Darin's eyes widened.
"That wasn't a beginner spell."
Ren shook his head. "I can cast it three times before my mana runs dry."
Darin stared at him. "That's… controlled. Very controlled."
Ren demonstrated again.
Second spear.
Third.
Then he stopped.
Mana flow stabilized—low, but steady.
"No exhaustion," Ren said. "Just empty."
Darin exhaled slowly. "You're not wasting power. You're measuring it."
"Yes."
That was when Darin realized something important.
Ren wasn't trying to overpower the competition.
He was trying to outlast it.
---
Wind and Positioning
Next came Wind.
Ren activated his magic, lifting himself slightly off the ground—not soaring, but hovering.
"I can maintain flight for one minute," he explained. "Longer makes my control unstable."
Darin circled him carefully. "That minute can decide a fight."
Ren nodded. "That's why I save it."
He demonstrated controlled movement—short bursts, sudden changes in direction, quick retreats.
Not beautiful.
But effective.
Then came his final technique.
---
The Tornado
Ren planted his feet and closed his eyes.
Wind mana gathered—not explosively, but steadily.
The air twisted around him, forming a small but violent spiral that shredded dust, leaves, and loose debris.
A Tornado—compact, focused, and dangerous.
It lasted only a few seconds before dissipating.
Ren staggered slightly, breathing hard.
"I can cast it once," he admitted. "After that, my mana is nearly exhausted."
Darin didn't smile.
He looked grim.
"That's a finisher," he said. "Use it wrong, and you lose. Use it right… and the fight ends."
Ren committed that to memory.
---
Blending Steel and Flame
Training shifted.
Darin taught Ren how to use Slash immediately after magic—not before.
Fire Spear to break guard.
Wind burst to reposition.
Slash to finish.
No wasted movement.
No hesitation.
Ren failed dozens of times.
But slowly, the rhythm formed.
Magic wasn't separate from swordsmanship.
It was part of it.
---
A Retired Adventurer's Gift
On the final day of training, Darin handed Ren a real blade.
Not sharp.
Not expensive.
But balanced.
"I can't teach you more," Darin said. "My body won't allow it."
Ren bowed deeply. "This is enough."
Darin smiled faintly. "For an early beginner? You're terrifying."
Ren looked down at the sword.
He wasn't strong.
He wasn't fast.
But he was prepared.
---
One Month Remains
That night, Ren sat by the window, blade resting across his knees.
Fire Spear — 3 uses
Flight — 1 minute
Tornado — 1 use
Sword Technique — Slash (Beginner)
Not impressive on paper.
But refined.
Efficient.
Honest.
The competition hadn't begun yet.
But Ren knew something now.
When it did—
He wouldn't be entering as a poor child chasing a dream.
He would enter as a fighter who understood his limits.
And how to weaponize them.
---