The midnight air was biting, but Kaelen Vance barely felt the chill. His mind was focused on a single point of light within his soul. After the confrontation with Prince Julian, he knew that his current strength was a mere flicker compared to the raging inferno he needed to become.
Seven days, Kaelen thought, his boots crunching on the dry leaves as he moved toward the academy's ancient Clock Tower. In my past life, Julian's 'Sun-Strike' rapier nearly killed me during the tournament. I won't let history repeat itself.
But Kaelen wasn't going to the Clock Tower to study. He was going there because of a secret he had discovered during the Great War, ten years in the future. Beneath the tower's foundation lay a High-Density Mana Cave, a place where the air was so saturated with magic that it could suffocate an ordinary student.
The Secret Entrance
Using his silver mana to coat his fingertips, Kaelen pressed a specific sequence of stones on the tower's base. Click. Clack. Rumble.
A narrow passage opened, leading deep into the earth. As he descended, the air grew heavy. Most mages would feel their lungs tighten here, but for Kaelen, it felt like coming home. His mana circuits,hungry for energy, began to pulse rhythmically.
He reached the bottom and stood in a chamber filled with glowing blue crystals. In the center sat a rusted, broken stone statue of a knight holding a shattered blade.
"Found it," Kaelen whispered. "The Training Grounds of the First King."
This was a 'Time-Dilation' zone. One day inside this cave was equal to only four hours outside. Here, he could cram weeks of training into a single night.
The Training Begins
Kaelen stripped to his waist, revealing a lean but youthful physique. He didn't have the muscles of a warrior yet, but his spirit was that of a Sovereign.
He sat in the center of the cave and began the 'Sovereign'sinternal Pulse: Level 2.' "Argh!" Kaelen groaned as the raw mana from the crystals rushed into his body. It felt like liquid fire being poured into his veins. His skin turned a deep shade of red, and steam began to rise from his shoulders.
In the future, Kaelen had been a master of the 'Silver LionSword Style.' But that style required a body of steel. Right now,his body was like glass. He had to temper it.
He began to move. He didn't have a sword, so he used a heavy wooden branch he had brought along.
First Form: Roar of the Silent Wind.
He swung the branch. It was slow. Clumsy. He did it again. And again. A hundred times. A thousand times.
By the third 'day' inside the cave, Kaelen's hands were bleeding, his palms raw and blistered. But he didn't stop. He channeled the silver mana into the wooden branch, trying to make the wood as sharp as steel.
Crrrack! The branch exploded under the pressure of his mana. Kaelen fell to his knees, gasping for air. "Not enough... it's still not enough!"
A Glimpse of the Past
As Kaelen rested, his eyes fell on the broken statue. He felt a strange pull. He walked toward it and placed his hand on the statue's cold, stony heart.
Suddenly, a vision flashed before his eyes. He saw a man in silver armor—the First King of Astrum—standing against a sea of darkness. The King didn't use a complex spell. He simply raised his hand, and the world turned into a storm of silver lightning.
"True power," a voice echoed in Kaelen's mind, "is not about how much mana you have. It is about how much of yourself you are willing to burn."
Kaelen's eyes snapped open. He understood. He had been trying to 'control' the silver mana. He needed to become it.
He stood up and closed his eyes. He stopped fighting the fire in his veins and let it consume him. His silver mana erupted, not as a pillar of light, but as a thin, vibrating edge around his hand.
He moved his hand in a swift, horizontal arc.
"Silver Lion Style: First Form — Moon-Severer!"
A crescent blade of silver energy flew from his fingertips, slicing through a solid granite pillar across the room as if it were butter. The cut was so clean that the top half of the pillar didn't even slide off for several seconds.
Kaelen looked at his hand. It was trembling, but the mana was stable. He had unlocked his first real combat technique.
The Uninvited Guest
While Kaelen was deep in his training, he didn't notice the silent observer at the top of the passage.
Liora had followed him. She had been worried about his strange behavior and the duel with Julian. She saw the secret door open and had watched from the shadows.
Her heart was pounding so hard she thought it would burst. She saw Kaelen—her lazy, average friend—moving with the grace of a god. She saw him survive the crushing pressure of the cave and witnessed the silver blade he had just fired from his hand.
"Kaelen..." she whispered, her voice trembling. "Who are you really? And what happened to my friend?"
She turned and ran back toward the dorms, her mind in a whirl. She wasn't the only one watching, though.
Deep in the shadows of the Clock Tower, a man in a dark robe pulled his hood lower. He held a communication crystal that was glowing with a sinister violet light—the mark of the VoidCult.
"My Lord," the hooded man whispered into the crystal. "The prophecy was wrong. The Silver Lion has awakened ten years too early. We must eliminate him before he meets the Princess again."
The Calm Before the Storm
Kaelen emerged from the cave just as the first rays of the sun hit the academy. He looked exhausted, his clothes torn and stained with sweat and blood, but his eyes were sharper than any blade Julian could ever carry.
He had four days left until the tournament. As he walked toward the dorms, he saw Princess Elara standing by the fountain. She looked like she had been waiting for him.
"Kaelen!" she ran to him, her face full of concern. "You look terrible! Where have you been? I've been looking for you all night."
Kaelen looked at her and felt the heavy weight of his secret. He wanted to tell her everything. He wanted to hold her and tell her that he wouldn't let her die this time.
But instead, he just leaned against the fountain and gave her a tired smile. "Just a bit of extra credit, Elara. Don't worry about me."
"Don't worry? Julian is training with the Royal Instructors! He's mastered the third level of Sun-Magic!" Elara cried, grabbing his arm. "Kaelen, please... just withdraw from the duel. I can talk to my father. I can stop this."
Kaelen took her hand gently and looked into her eyes. "Elara, do you trust me?"
The Princess froze. There was that look again—the look of a man who had seen the end of time.
"I... I shouldn't," she whispered. "I barely know you. But for some reason, I do."
"Then trust me one more time," Kaelen said. "On the day of the tournament, I'm not just going to beat Julian. I'm going to show this kingdom that the era of the nobles is over. The era of the Sovereign has begun."
As he walked away, leaving a stunned Elara behind, Kaelen felt the silver mana humming under his skin. He was ready.