Crosun stood before Calien, arms crossed, studying the boy with an expression that was half pride, half suspicion.
"How long," Crosun asked slowly, "have you been training with knife techniques?"
Calien scratched the back of his head, looking sheepish. "Um… just today?"
Fergan's eyes narrowed. Buch raised an eyebrow.
Crosun turned to them, and both men nodded silently in affirmation.
Crosun's gaze returned to his son. "And yet, you moved like someone who's been training for years. That wasn't raw instinct."
"Well," Calien said with a sudden grin, "Teacher Nolan taught me."
Crosun's brow twitched.
Calien's eyes lit up. "He brought me to his Special Arcane Realm. It's… not like this place. It's a different world—no, a simulation of another world. He calls it Earth."
Crosun blinked. "Earth?"
Fergan and Buch leaned in slightly.
"Yes!" Calien said, waving his arms. "The sky was grey, choked with smoke. The buildings were like steel mountains. No horses—just cars or magic carriages and glowing glass towers. And the people… they were always rushing, scared, hunted by infected."
"Infected?" Buch repeated, skeptical.
Calien nodded earnestly. "Twisted creatures. Once human, now mindless beasts. The whole place was like a maze of death. You had to move fast, kill fast. If you stopped, even to breathe, you'd die. I learned how to use a knife by taking out these things—one stab to the throat, another to the base of the skull. Over and over."
Fergan and Buch exchanged a look. Crosun's frown deepened.
"You expect us to believe you mastered blade techniques like that in one day?" Crosun asked.
"I didn't just fight," Calien replied. "Nolan… he made it real. We had to fight to survive."
His eyes glinted. "I killed more in that place than I can count. It wasn't just practice. It was survival. I learned to hold my breath, to move without sound, to stab with purpose. I learned how to fight for my life."
Crosun stared at him in silence.
Then, he stepped forward, withdrawing a curved training dagger from his belt. "Catch."
Calien caught it effortlessly.
"Hold it like you would when expecting a slash from the side," Crosun instructed.
Calien adjusted the grip without hesitation, feet shifting subtly into a defensive posture.
"Good," Fergan said slowly. "Now reverse the grip."
Calien spun the dagger into a reverse grip smoothly.
Buch frowned. "Now, show us how you'd deflect a blade with it."
Calien crouched slightly, and with a sharp motion, demonstrated a precise maneuver using his forearm and wrist to redirect an invisible strike—followed by a quick counter aimed at the throat.
All three men exchanged a long glance.
"Again," Crosun ordered.
Calien did it again. Faster. Smoother.
He didn't hesitate.
He didn't falter.
Every answer, every motion, every instinct—it was as if the dagger was an extension of his body.
"Hold your breath and close your eyes," Fergan said suddenly.
Calien obeyed.
"Now defend yourself."
Fergan struck.
And Calien reacted instantly, blocking the invisible blow with a twist of the wrist, slipping under the imagined arc, stabbing upward with precision.
The three men slowly straightened, stunned.
They had tested many young recruits. Some with raw power. Others with strong instincts. But rarely did they see someone so naturally in tune with a weapon—especially one so difficult to master.
He wasn't simply talented.
He was attuned.
Crosun looked at Fergan and Buch. "His breathing. His reactions. Even with his eyes closed…"
Fergan nodded. "It's not just muscle memory. It's instinct. Like he's done this for years."
"He has knife aura potential," Buch said simply.
Crosun stepped forward again, voice quieter this time.
"Calien," he said. "Would you like us to determine your affinity as a Mana Knight… specifically, in the way of the knife?"
Calien tilted his head slightly, eyes shifting between his father and the two family elders. The question puzzled him. "Determine my talent?" he echoed, brows knitting. "You mean… I'd have to fight higher-stage Mana Knights?"
Fergan nodded, folding his arms. "Exactly that."
"And see how many stages above me I can defeat?" Calien's voice grew softer as his gaze turned toward the center of the arena. "But you all already know I'm just Fourth Stage, Initial Phase."
Crosun stepped forward, placing a hand on Calien's shoulder, his tone calm yet firm. "Calien, you're not wrong. In the past, you were evaluated like everyone else. You barely defeated someone a single stage above your level, unlike Cain, who showed the potential to take on enemies two stages higher."
Calien's expression darkened slightly at the mention of his brother, his earlier victory still echoing in his veins like lightning caught under his skin.
"But let me explain something important," Crosun continued, his voice steady and resonant.
"When it comes to Mana Knights, pure levels aren't the only thing that matters. Battle attunement plays a pivotal role—perhaps the most crucial of all.
"A Mana Knight who discovers his natural combat attunement, whether to the bow, spear, greatsword, or even unarmed combat, can amplify their talent beyond what their mana stage alone would suggest. It's like unlocking the true potential of one's soul."
He gave Calien a look both proud and searching. "You, my son… your attunement may very well lie in the blade of the knife. Not the sword, not the saber. A simple kitchen knife… and yet something far deadlier in your hands than most noble weapons in others."
Understanding dawned slowly across Calien's face. He inhaled deeply and gave a quick, firm nod. "So, finding attunement is… like discovering your weapon, your instinctive medium. And when that happens… talent awakens?"
Crosun smiled. "Exactly."
Calien's breath caught in his throat. He couldn't stop remembering that moment from earlier—how his knife, his movements, everything felt in harmony.
Beating Cain had felt good—a little too good. It wasn't just pride or a sibling rivalry settled. It had felt right, natural, like something long dormant had come alive.
But then his expression sobered.
Even now, something bothered him. He had defeated Cain, yes, but that match wasn't completely fair. Cain had suppressed his aura to match Calien's. While it proved Calien could fight as an equal… it didn't prove if he could surpass stronger enemies outright.
Nolan had said something odd earlier. That the training from earlier alone would allow Calien to fight Sixth Stage Novice Mana Knights while remaining at the Fourth Stage. At the time, he had believed it. After all, Nolan seemed like a person who wouldn't lie if he's pissed or shocked.
He was excited to see it.
If that's true!
Defeating his brother didn't make sense. Although his brother can defeat opponents two stages above, Calien can also naturally defeat one stage above him, so defeating his brother felt like it wasn't enough.
"Okay," Calien said. "Let's try it."
Crosun gave him a long look, searching for hesitation. There was none.
Behind him, Cain stepped to the side at his father's signal. He obeyed, albeit with a bitter, narrowed glance. It stung, knowing his younger brother had something special. More than that, Cain now realized he had made a mistake.
He hadn't underestimated Calien's will. He had underestimated his weapon.
Attunement, Cain thought, grinding his teeth. So that's what it was… He was attuned to the knife all along. That's why I am defeated.
Crosun raised his voice, signaling to the side of the arena. "Bring in a Fifth Stage Novice Mana Knight."
A ripple of motion moved through the Silverhart guards until a knight stepped forward, tall and solidly built, the violet trim of his leather armor bearing his rank clearly.
But before the match could begin, Calien lifted a hand.
"Wait," he said.
Crosun frowned. "What is it?"
"I want someone in the Sixth Stage."
Silence gripped the room like a freezing wind.
Fergan blinked. "Sixth Stage?"
Guch leaned forward. "Are you… absolutely sure?"
"That's two stages above your current level," another family elder warned. "A dangerous gap, even with an attunement."
"I'm sure," Calien said, more firmly this time. "Teacher Nolan said… that with the training I received, I should be able to beat even Sixth Stage Knights. He wasn't guessing. He believed it."
More silence. Then came the whispering, the disbelief.
"Nolan again?" Crosun murmured to himself. There was something uncanny about that outsider. Time and again, Nolan's predictions proved right. And now… this. Could he have seen something even Crosun hadn't noticed in his own son?
Eventually, Crosun raised his hand. "Alright then," he said solemnly. "Bring me a Sixth Stage Novice Mana Knight."
A new murmur spread throughout the crowd as the selection changed.
The Fifth Stage Knight stepped back, slightly relieved, while a new figure entered the arena—taller, broader, exuding a powerful aura that rippled faintly across the stone floor.
He wore a full suit of lightweight armor at first, but Crosun signaled him.
"Remove the armor," Crosun said. "You'll face him with only a wooden sword."
The Knight gave a small bow and obeyed, taking a wooden sword from his subordinates. His stance remained calm but focused.
Calien exhaled, closing his eyes for a moment.
He could feel it—the same energy from before.
Caliens held the wooden knife, and tried to relax by taking a deep breath, closing his eyes, and opening it.
Across the arena, the Sixth Stage Knight cracked his neck once and fell into stance.
"Begin!" Crosun's voice rang out.
Both fighters moved at once, sprinting toward each other, mana pulsing around their bodies in waves.
The onlookers tensed, anticipating a lengthy duel—exchanges of feints, counters, pressure from above and below, parries and clever mana-channeling.
But what happened next stunned the entire arena.
As they closed the distance, Calien didn't hesitate. He didn't overthink. His knife moved, flashing low and fast. There was no wasted motion. No flair. No clashing of blades.
A blur.
A slip inside the guard.
And then—the sound of a gasp, not steel.
The Sixth Stage Knight staggered back, falling to one knee.
A red line spread across his tunic, shallow but clean, just over his ribs.
Then, there was silence.