The silence that followed Calien's victory was suffocating.
It wasn't just the stillness of surprise—it was the stunned, paralyzing kind of silence that gripped everyone like a sudden drop in air pressure, like the calm before a violent storm.
No one moved. No one breathed.
And then the shock immediately detonated like a bomb.
"What—what was that?!"
"Did anyone see what just happened!?"
"He didn't just win! That was… a massacre!"
The Sixth Stage Mana Knight lay on the ground, not injured, but completely stunned. He had barely processed the beginning of the battle before he was on one knee, then on his back. His wooden sword hand had gone numb. Not from an injury—but from disbelief.
If Calien had gone toe-to-toe with the Sixth Stage Knight and fought to a draw, that would have been shocking enough. But this?
Defeating someone two stages above him in a blink?
It was unthinkable. Unreal. Terrifying.
Even Calien stood still, lips parted slightly. His gaze flickered from his wooden knife to the opponent, then to his trembling hand. "I… I didn't think it would be this easy."
He remembered what Nolan had said: "Maybe you can beat a Sixth Stage Knight if you give all you got."
But this? This wasn't just victory. It was utter domination. Not a fluke, not luck—this was control. Command. A complete dismantling of a superior-ranked foe.
Cain, who had fought his younger brother just minutes earlier, felt a chill crawl up his spine. His jaw clenched, and a strange emotion swept over him—not just shame, but fear. He had always assumed his little brother would forever trail behind him.
Now?
Now he wasn't even sure they were in the same world.
On the elevated platform, Fergan and Guch remained frozen. Their mouths were slightly agape, their eyes locked on Calien as if witnessing a new species come to life.
Crosun finally stirred, snapping back to his senses. He cleared his throat, trying to regain some semblance of control. "Again," he said quickly. "I… I need to see that again. Maybe we imagined it."
Calien nodded mutely. His opponent, equally dumbfounded, climbed back to his feet and gave a hesitant nod. Once more, the two faced each other in the ring.
And again—crack!
In that heartbeat, the Sixth Stage Knight was on his back. Again! This time he didn't even land on one knee—he was flat, staring at the sky, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Not from exhaustion—but from sheer panic.
"I barely even saw him move!" the knight gasped.
Crosun's hand flew to his chest. He genuinely felt like he might have a heart attack. His pulse thundered in his ears, and a tremor ran through his spine. "Are you kidding me!?"
The arena had devolved into chaos. Disciples, knights, and elders all murmured loudly, a symphony of disbelief swirling in the air.
"No way."
"Is that wooden knife enchanted!?"
"No… I scanned it earlier. It's just a regular wooden practice blade!"
"Then what is he!?"
Gritting his teeth, Crosun raised a hand again. "Bring in a Sixth Stage Middle Phase Mana Knight!"
A ripple of shock passed through the crowd.
"Middle Phase?! But sir—!"
"Do it!" Crosun barked.
Moments later, a new knight stepped into the ring. His aura was heavier, more refined. This wasn't a freshly-promoted Sixth Stage Knight. This one had experience, power—presence.
The crowd leaned in, holding their breath.
The result was the same.
Worse, even.
The knight didn't even land a single blow before he was flat on the ground, eyes wide, lips trembling.
"Again!" Crosun roared. "Sixth Stage, Peak Phase!"
Surely this time. Surely this one would challenge the boy.
But again—the Peak Stage Knight was dismantled in under three seconds.
Now, even Calien's hands were trembling again—but not from nervousness. He was trying to understand. "Is this really me?" he whispered. "How did I become this strong? Is Teacher Nolan… a god?"
The words left his lips before he realized it, and Crosun heard them.
"No," Crosun said firmly, his face pale but composed. "If your teacher Nolan was truly that divine, the entire Silver Blade City would be shaking by now. Teachers of that caliber don't stay unnoticed. No… this is you, Calien. This is your talent."
He turned toward the crowd. "Seventh Stage, Initial Phase. Bring someone in."
This time, even Guch stepped forward. "Wait, my lord, we should pace this—"
"No. We have to know how far this goes."
The Seventh Stage Knight entered, taller, stronger, a real veteran. Calien stared him down, inhaling slowly.
"Ready!" Crosun called.
A blur.
A flash of steel.
The Seventh Stage Knight collapsed, coughing, clutching his ribs.
Destroyed.
"This is impossible!" Fergan cried out, his voice nearly cracking.
Crosun stared ahead, slack-jawed.
Another knight stepped forward—Middle Phase, then Peak.
Each was defeated. Not barely, not by luck. But decisively.
Clean hits. Precise moves. No drawn-out duels. Just complete control.
The air was thick with panic, awe, and disbelief.
It wasn't until an Eighth Stage Mana Knight in Middle Phase stepped into the ring that Calien's winning streak finally halted. The battle dragged out for more than ten seconds—then fifteen.
For the first time, Calien didn't dominate. He held his ground. His footwork faltered only slightly. And finally, the Eighth Stage Knight pushed him back with a powerful blast of mana that knocked Calien off his feet.
He hit the ground hard, breathing heavily, sweat rolling down his face.
But he smiled.
The knight nodded. "Now that was a fight."
The tension released. Cheers erupted. The soldiers shouted. The impossible had happened before their eyes—and they had all witnessed it.
Crosun rubbed his temples, overwhelmed. "This is too much… it's just too much…"
He stared at Calien like a stranger.
Not his son.
A force of nature.
And for a moment, the mighty leader of the Silverhart family was just a father trying to make sense of the miracle in front of him.
"I…" Calien gasped, "I didn't think I could go that far."
Cain stepped forward, and for the first time, the envy in his eyes was gone. Replaced by something deeper.
Pride.
He grinned, and slapped Calien's back. "You really are a monster, little brother."
Calien blinked at him.
Cain chuckled, then sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. "I… I admit, I used to look down on you. Thought if I pushed you, you'd become stronger—but I didn't think you'd leap over me this far."
He grinned wider. "I guess I'm shameless, huh?"
Calien gaped. "You're… ridiculous."
"Maybe. But I'm proud, too."
Crosun finally stepped down from the platform and approached the two brothers. His face was stern, but his eyes glistened with something close to reverence.
"Calien," he said, voice low and even. "There is no doubt in my heart now. You possess something rare, perhaps even unique. I don't say this lightly—but you must continue training under Teacher Nolan. In all of Silver Blade City… I fear he might be the only one who can handle your growth for now. You've gone beyond what any of us can instruct alone."
He placed a hand on his son's shoulder.
"But I promise you, I'll do everything in my power to search for other capable Mana Specialists in the future—so that your talent won't be wasted."
Calien's breath caught in his throat. The approval in his father's voice was heavier than any praise he'd ever received.
"I will grant you permission," Crosun continued. "To do what you want to do."
Cain crossed his arms and nodded with a grin. "You heard father, little brother. Do whatever you like."
One by one, the soldiers began raising their fists, cheering his name.
"Calien!"
"Silver Blade Academy is waiting for you!"
"Go!"
The moment was deafening. The pressure, the expectation, the awe—they didn't weigh him down.
They lifted him up.
And so, Calien closed his eyes, gripping the knife Nolan had given him tighter in his palm.
Tomorrow.
He would attend the Silver Blade Academy assessment.
And the city would never be the same.