Five years later,
These five years felt like a breath held too long.
The upper echelons of Aetherion were in chaos over the events in Ebonhart territory.
All questions got unsatisfying answers, but no one dared to investigate alone.
That would anger the Ebonhart duchy.
But away from the brewing storm, in a garden at Ebonhart Castle's heart, two people practiced swordplay.
One was a five-year-old boy, lean and compact—built more for speed and control than strength.
His short white hair fluttered in the wind with every move, his crimson eyes calm, focused, and unnervingly composed.
His stance was precise, every step carried purpose, with no wasted motion.
Each swing was deliberate, like the blade was an extension of his will, not just a weapon.
The sound of wooden swords clashing echoed through the garden.
His opponent, a middle-aged man with a heroic aura, that his a dangerous edge.
He was Sir Kael Vorthrane, commander of the Duke's personal army, the Black Dragon Knights.
He was also known across Eldrosia as the crimson sword saint, renowned for his swo skill.
The boy was Valdis Ebonhart, the Duke's youngest child and the Duchess's favorite child.
Every powerful swing from Valdis was met with a block of equal force or a gentle push that changed the sword's direction.
Valdis was completely immersed, displaying a sword skill that seemed beyond his age.
But while Valdis focused hard, Kael appeared relaxed, seemingly able to predict every move.
He neutralized each strike easily.
When he was younger, Kael was recognized as a sword prodigy and one of the kingdom's three sword masters—masters who had achieved the intent stage.
Clang!
Sir Kael's voice broke through the clash.
"Control your center; strength means nothing if your footing falters," Kael advised.
Before Valdis fully understood, a strike hit his leg, making him lose balance.
His sword was knocked out of his hand, and a foot slammed into his chest, sending him flying onto the ground.
As he tried to stand, he froze when a sword was pointed at his head.
"Your technique and skill are impressive, but they lack purpose.
You have decent spatial awareness, but your combat skills are nonexistent," Kael reprimanded him.
He looked at Valdis, who was listening carefully.
Finally, he focused on those red eyes and sighed,
"What am I even saying?" he muttered, running his hand through his hair.
"You're barely five and have almost perfectly mastered your sword—an achievement most veterans haven't reached.
Most kids your age are still playing in the sand, but you're clashing swords with me."
He laughed and turned away.
Then suddenly stopped, facing away from Valdis on the ground, and said,
"Go clean up; I'm done training you.
You've learnt everything I can teach—you need real combat to improve.
Test your skills against others or beasts to hone your senses for real combat."
He looked back at him:
"That's the only way to truly sharpen your instincts, especially in danger.
Without that, you're just a delicate flower in a greenhouse—destined to fall apart when faced with the world."
He strode off, leaving Valdis to stand, dust himself off, and glance at his chest.
His breastplate bore a large dent from Sir Kael's final kick.
He sighed and headed toward the castle.
Kael moved toward the exit, his steps slow but his mind busy.
His mind replayed every move—precision, technique, speed—impossible to forget.
He had trained knights for decades, seen prodigies rise and fall, talent burn bright or fade fast.
But today's scene defied everything he knew.
"What could make the mighty sword saint look so helpless?" a voice beside him asked calmly.
He didn't turn immediately, knowing who it was.
"My lord," Kael nodded as Duke Draven Ebonhart stepped from a shadowed archway, regal but not oppressive.
"You seem like you've seen a ghost," the duke said, his crimson gaze on Kael.
"When you asked me to train your son because of his rare talent, I thought you were exaggerating.
Even your first son's talent wasn't that extraordinary at five," Kael sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.
Hearing this, the duke burst into laughter.
They'd been friends for decades—met on the battlefield, bonded instantly.
Both had risen with prodigious talent—Keal became the crimson sword saint, and Draven inherited the dukedom.
He was a duke now, and Kael was revered for his mastery and love of battle.
"What do you think now?" the duke asked, smiling as they headed toward the exit.
"He's five, with mastery over his sword. All he needs is experience." Kael sighed again.
"You really believe Valdis' talent is that high?" said Duke Draven.
"Who wouldn't consider a five-year-old a sword master on the verge of breaking into the grandmaster level?" Kael replied.
"He's close to grandmaster," the duke said in shock.
"As long as he fights real battles, reaching grandmaster will be just a matter of time," Kael affirmed.
In Eldoria, weapon mastery has levels: initiate, adept, disciple, master, grandmaster, saint, and sage.
The leap from master to grandmaster transforms a swordsman—integrating techniques into sword momentum.
The saint level is the next step, turning sword aura into intent—allowing a swordsman to see everything as a sword.
Finally, at the sage, intent turns into law—sword law.
But unlike the first three, the sword law state can only be achieved after progressing beyond the soul realm and into the law comprehension realm.
This is because the body cannot handle the influx of law energy into the body.
"How much longer till his awakening ceremony" Keal asked.
"Five months" the duke replied
"I'm certain his blood purity will be high" Keal said
Hearing this the duke raised an eyebrow and asked
"How can you tell"
"He's more talented than your first son, Malrik, and he's the highest in the last millennia
And even he wasn't as monstrous as this" Keal replied
After saying that he turned to the duke and continued
"Make sure you seal his awakening site, people have been searching for clues about what happened that night
Nobody dares to investigate too deeply due to your strength,
But if two monsters with insanely high purity levels are born to house Ebonhart in the same generation, some people won't be able to hold back again"
"I know, although it will make them suspicious but they won't have enough motive to act which will buy enough time for Valdis to grow" the duke said.
Sir Keal nodded, took a step forward and his body blurred out of sight
The duke looked in the direction, Sir Keal had disappeared into, and a glint flashed past his eyes
"These noble houses seem to have forgotten the terror of House Ebonhart,
if they cross the line I won't mind annihilating a few houses to warn the rest"
After saying that he yawned and vanished from sight.