POV: Jimmy Welton
Three years passed in silence.
To the world, I was simply the young heir of House Welton—quiet, intelligent, and well-behaved for my age.
But beneath that calm surface, I was growing.
Watching.
Learning.
Preparing.
The training yard behind the palace was wide and open, surrounded by stone walls and tall banners bearing the crest of House Welton.
I stood there holding a wooden sword that felt a little too big for my small hands.
Across from me stood my father.
Duke Halfthōr Welton.
Even without armor, his presence alone made the air feel tight. He held his sword casually, yet every movement carried discipline and experience.
"Before strength," he said calmly, "comes foundation."
He looked down at me.
"Today, I will teach you the fundamentals of swordsmanship."
I listened carefully.
"Swordsmanship is not just swinging a blade," the Duke continued. "It is control. Balance. Timing. Awareness."
He tapped his foot against the ground.
"Your stance is your base. If your base is weak, no technique will save you."
He demonstrated slowly—perfect posture, steady breathing, minimal movement.
I tried to imitate him.
My body was still young, but I could feel it.
This wasn't just physical training.
After a moment, the Duke lowered his sword.
"Now," he said, "we move to the root of all true swordsmen."
He looked straight at me.
"Aura."
I stiffened.
Aura.
I had heard the term before, but never seen it clearly.
The Duke closed his eyes.
The air changed instantly.
A powerful pressure surged outward, like an invisible wave crashing through the yard. The ground beneath his feet trembled slightly.
Then—
I saw it.
A faint yet overwhelming light wrapped around his body, flowing like fire and mist at the same time.
Aura.
My breath caught.
So this… this power was always beneath him?
I felt small.
Not scared—amazed.
"This," the Duke said, opening his eyes, "is Aura."
He slowly withdrew it, and the pressure faded.
"Every Aura swordsman possesses it," he continued. "But its strength differs."
He raised one finger.
"Some have weak Aura."
A second finger.
"Some average."
A third.
"Some strong."
A fourth.
"And a rare few possess very strong Aura."
He looked at me seriously.
"The strength of one's Aura depends on their swordsmanship level."
"There are five levels in swordsmanship."
He began explaining them clearly.
Novice
"Beginners," the Duke said. "Newly started. No real understanding. No usable Aura."
Apprentice
"Two to three months of training. Basic sword knowledge. Aura begins to awaken, but it is weak."
Sword Apprentice
"At this stage, one has decent swordsmanship knowledge. They can join the kingdom's army or become an adventurer."
He nodded.
"Most possess low Aura. Some talented ones reach mid-level Aura."
Sword Master
His tone sharpened.
"When Aura becomes solid and swordsmanship refined, one enters this rank."
"A Sword Master can defeat hundreds of Sword Apprentices alone."
"They are divided into three levels."
He raised three fingers.
"Initial – newly promoted."
"Intermediate – experienced veterans."
"High – the peak of Sword Mastery."
Finally—
Sword Grand Master
The Duke's eyes grew distant.
"This is the peak."
"Individuals at this level possess terrifying swordsmanship and overwhelming Aura."
"They are often given titles—Sword Saint, Sword Saintess, or similar."
He looked back at me.
"A Sword Grand Master… can stand against an entire nation."
"They too have three levels."
"Initial. Intermediate. High."
Silence filled the training yard.
I tightened my grip on the wooden sword.
Aura… Swordsmanship… Ranks…
This world was far deeper than I imagined.
The Duke rested his sword on his shoulder.
"You will not train Aura yet," he said. "First, your body. Your stance. Your discipline."
He met my eyes.
"Power without foundation destroys its wielder."
I nodded slowly.
Inside, excitement burned quietly.
So this is the path.
Magic in secret.
Swordsmanship in the open.
I looked at my father.
If this is the peak of strength…
Then someday—
I'll stand there too.
End of chapter 5