***
Duke of Saxen's office.
On the day Charlotte Orhart officially became a maid serving House Saxen, the Duke asked curiously how such a naive girl had come to possess such unwavering resolve.
"What happened between you and that child that day?"
"The daughter of the Divine Sword, Charlotte Orhart."
Dale nodded and continued.
"I had the same thought as you, Father."
"Oh?"
The Duke of Saxen smiled, seemingly amused by the remark.
No matter how kind the Duke might be, he was also the Empire's foremost noble. That position could never be maintained by virtue alone.
He was not the type to make decisions based solely on a loyal retainer's plea or the unfortunate circumstances of the Orhart family.
"You speak as if you know what I'm thinking."
"I made a promise to Lady Charlotte."
"A promise?"
"That House Saxen would protect her."
"You invoked the name of House Saxen out of mere pity for that child?"
The Duke asked sharply.
"It wasn't pity."
Dale shook his head.
"She is the only daughter who carries the blood of the one called the Divine Sword."
Dale replied.
"Even if Lady Charlotte despises that fact, her 'value' is immeasurable."
The blood of the Divine Sword. And the unique worth she holds as a woman. As he recalled the Holy Swordsman's vile desires, the Black Duke frowned.
"That is why our house will protect Lady Charlotte from such evil."
But this was not goodwill without cost.
"So what is it we seek in return?"
"A single Divine Sword."
While the Holy Swordsman desired to use Charlotte to produce a "child of the Divine Sword," Dale's wish was far simpler.
Because the one closest to the Divine Sword was already before him.
The young daughter of the Divine Sword, reaching out to him for help.
"To be wielded one day for our house."
At those words, the Duke of Saxen let out a quiet laugh.
***
There are several honors a knight may enjoy.
First, to make a name for oneself through the sword alone.
Second, to serve a lord truly worthy of loyalty.
Third, to teach a worthy disciple who will inherit one's will and sword.
In that regard, Lord Helmut Blackbear was truly a blessed knight.
One of the Continent's Seven Swords, known by the title "Mad Sword." A knight who pledged lifelong loyalty to House Saxen.
And finally──
Kaang!
The prodigy of House Saxen, Dale, spun his stiletto and reversed his grip. As he brought it down, Charlotte Orhart's rapier deflected the strike at an angle.
Immediately, the stiletto's blade coiled like a snake.
But Charlotte's rapier persistently blocked its path, unwilling to allow another strike.
Though it was a duel between children, lacking the raw power of seasoned knights, it displayed the finesse and speed of elite assassins.
Fast, and each strike carried sharpened killing intent.
'Is this truly a duel between nine-year-olds?'
Even the knights of House Saxen were speechless as they watched.
They were used to Dale's talent. But this young girl──
'She truly is the daughter of the Divine Sword.'
Recalling the sword of his former mentor, Sir Vardel, Lord Helmut Blackbear held his breath.
'Perhaps blood cannot be denied.'
Charlotte Orhart.
Without formal training, she had taught herself a unique style using only a rapier.
After several exchanges, Dale's stiletto finally subdued Charlotte's rapier, deciding the match.
"Well done, Lady Charlotte."
Lord Helmut smiled with satisfaction.
"Spare me the flattery, Lord Helmut."
But Charlotte, unable to hide her bitterness at defeat, boldly asked,
"What am I lacking?"
Charlotte's talent was exceptional. But it couldn't compare to Dale's. In fact, Dale's abilities had already surpassed the realm of mere "talent."
Even so, Lord Helmut could see it. Unlike Dale, who would walk the path of magic, Charlotte would walk the path of the sword—and she would grow rapidly.
It wouldn't take long before the outcome of a pure sword duel between them reversed.
"Lady Charlotte, do you know the key to mastering the rapier?"
"Thrusting." Charlotte answered.
"That's incorrect."
Lord Helmut shook his head.
"The most important aspect of wielding a rapier is your legs."
Legs. The essence of the rapier lies in footwork—steps and movement.
"But Young Master Dale avoided your thrusts and closed the distance without missing a beat."
Charlotte listened intently, her expression serious and composed.
To have reached this level without proper training—once she began learning under a skilled swordsman, her swordsmanship would blossom brilliantly.
It was Lord Helmut's role to nurture the talent of Charlotte, the girl who carried the Divine Sword's legacy.
Dale and Charlotte.
To take even one of them as a disciple would be an unimaginable honor for most knights.
But Lord Helmut was the sword instructor to both.
A loyal retainer of House Saxen, the Mad Sword Helmut Blackbear. It was no exaggeration to call him the most blessed knight on the continent.
***
Malbork, the capital of the former Teutonia Knight Kingdom.
Now the stronghold granted to Grand Duke Brandenburg, commander of the Empire's First Legion, in recognition of his wartime achievements.
"The young lady of House Orhart has taken refuge with House Saxen."
Upon hearing the report from his spy, Count Brandenburg, the Holy Swordsman, hurled his glass aside.
"That * girl made the first move...!"
Clang!
He cursed and turned his head. Beside him, as always, was the Holy Sword Durandal, radiating pure white brilliance.
A delighted smile spread across the Count's face.
'Ah, my beloved Durandal.'
The sword that had pierced the Hero's back.
'Ah, my one and only fiancée.'
Gazing at the Holy Sword's glow with rapture, the Count blushed shyly.
'Just a little longer, my love.'
Like a girl in love. Blushing, the Count turned again.
"Find the Sif Guild immediately."
His voice was filled with twisted obsession.
"I'll pay a fortune—no matter the cost, gather skilled men and send them to the Duchy of Saxen."
***
He became aware of the mana flowing around his heart, calmly waited until it formed a stable circular route, and then firmly imprinted the shape of the mana ring.
This was the process of forming a second circle.
It was surprisingly easy.
"It's done."
"...!"
When Dale casually announced the formation of his new circle, Sepia perked up in surprise.
But adding even a low-level circle to the heart typically takes years.
Young mages considered "talented" usually enter the academy affiliated with the Mage Tower around age ten—when they first engrave their mana circle.
From there, reaching the third circle required for graduation takes about ten years.
Graduating in their late teens already earns them the title of "prodigy."
──But Dale, who began walking the path of magic at age eight, became a second-circle mage in just one year.
A realm of true genius, far beyond mere talent.
Dale extended his hand. The two mana rings around his heart began spinning rapidly.
The standard rotation speed for a mage's circle is 300 rpm (revolutions per minute).
Generating magic at 300 rpm qualifies one to expand to the next circle.
But Dale's first circle was already spinning at 2,000 rpm.
The newly formed second circle spun at 400 rpm.
He had already met the threshold to aim for the next level.
"Let's test it out..."
Magic generated from both circles flowed to his fingertips.
Without uttering a word, he projected a new formula onto "Ice Bullet" by visualizing it subconsciously.
He reinforced the molecular structure of the ice to increase weight and durability, imagined an invisible large-caliber barrel to enhance spin, kinetic energy, and velocity.
Armor-Piercing Bullet.
'Without adding fire magic, high-explosive incendiary rounds are probably out of reach.'
Taang!
The enhanced Ice Bullet tore through the air. A reinforced version, cast without incantation.
'What was that?'
Even Dale was surprised.
'Was it always this easy to project the mechanism of an armor-piercing round?'
Far too easy. Compared to his first use of Ice Bullet, it was incomparable.
Just adding one circle made the process of projecting his desired image into reality several times easier.
──A mage projecting their inner vision onto the world is like painting a picture. The subject must be clear, and the artist's skill matters.
Among these, the "circle" serves as the art supplies needed to paint.
It's the filter and medium for overlaying one's inner world onto reality.
No matter how skilled the artist, they can't paint a watercolor without brushes or paint.
That's why the number of circles is the standard for measuring a mage's power.
In other words, with more tools at his disposal, Dale's progress accelerated exponentially.
Like a perfect artist adding one new color at a time.
"You learn quickly."
Sepia smiled quietly as she watched.
She hadn't lost her fear of Dale's talent. But more than fear, she had chosen to trust him.
──The tales of his valor against the orcs, and the arrival of Lady Orhart at the ducal castle.
At the very least, this boy was trying to use his power the right way.
That was the resolve of Sepia, the elven mage who watched Dale closer than anyone.