Morning light slowly slipped through the trees, casting warm golden rays onto the forest floor. Birds began to sing softly in the branches above, and a cool breeze made the leaves rustle gently. A light mist still hung low, floating between the trees like a sleepy ghost. Somewhere nearby, a small stream trickled, adding to the peaceful sounds of the forest.
In a small wooden cabin hidden in this quiet clearing, four people slept soundly. The cabin was made of old wood and felt warm and safe inside. It smelled a little like smoke from last night's fire and the stew they had shared.
Cian lay on his futon, one arm stretched out, his face calm. Nearby, Shirayuki had curled up like a small ball, her white hair slightly messy, soft breaths rising and falling. Solaira, still in her small lizard form, was resting near the edge of the bed, her tail flicking now and then in her sleep. The old man snored quietly in the corner, wrapped in a blanket, looking peaceful.
It was the calm before another day of adventure, training, and maybe… a few surprises.
Morning broke with a golden hue, sunlight spilling through the trees like warm honey. The forest was alive with chirps and rustling leaves, a gentle breeze swaying the canopy above. Somewhere in the soft rustle of morning, Solaira stirred.
With a faint puff of magical smoke and a sleepy "hmnnn…", the Emberlix transformed into her human form, bare as the day she was born.
She blinked, stretched—and realized.
"...Oops."
She crouched behind a tree with a puffed-cheek grumble, fumbling through a travel sack for clothing. Cian, already sparring with the old man nearby, almost turned his head—but stopped mid-motion as the system blared:
> [System] WARNING: Turn your head and you might see fireballs where the sun don't shine. Proceed at your own risk.
"D-Don't tempt me like that…" Cian muttered, swinging his wooden sword clumsily.
Solaira, now fully dressed in a loose tunic (and maybe still adjusting a sleeve), trotted over with a proud grin. "Mmm~! Cooking time!" she sang, tail flicking excitedly as she tended the campfire.
Meanwhile, Shirayuki sat beside her, watching the cooking intently. Her ears perked, eyes wide. Whether she was learning… or waiting for a taste… was anyone's guess.
As the scent of sizzling meat and herbs wafted through the air, the clearing echoed with the sharp clack-clack! of wooden swords meeting in rapid succession.
Cian stepped in, his footwork solid now, arms tensing with each strike. His breathing was sharp—but focused. He had come far in just a week. No longer a boy flailing a stick—he now swung with intent.
The old man, by contrast, moved with maddening ease. He blocked and parried each of Cian's strikes with only one hand on his blade, the other resting behind his back like a gentleman in a casual duel.
"You're faster now," the old man said, voice a little raspy. Clack! "More control." Thwack! "But your left foot—still lazy."
A sudden twist sent Cian stumbling back, barely blocking the counter.
"You're not even using both hands…" he muttered, breath ragged.
The old man smirked, but then paused, coughing harshly into his sleeve. "This old body doesn't need two… yet."
> [System] Tip: If this geezer starts dual-wielding, you better dig a grave. Yours.
Cian's brow twitched. "That system's mouth is gonna get it one day."
> [System] Better worry about the sword coming at your ribs first, Romeo.
Meanwhile, in the background, Solaira flipped the pan dramatically, giggling as the fire whooshed up. Shirayuki silently watched from a stump, tail swaying, nibbling something and occasionally glancing at Cian. Her ears twitched every time he grunted with effort.
Cian gritted his teeth and lunged again—but this time, his form faltered just a little. A misstep. A tiny hesitation in his swing.
The old man's eyes narrowed.
"You dropped your guard."
His grip shifted, and with a blur of motion, he whispered—
"Aculeus."
A flurry of strikes exploded through the air—not at Cian, but around him. The wind cracked with the force of dozens of invisible jabs. The pressure alone knocked Cian off-balance, his sword twisting in his grip.
Then—fwip!
Cian's wooden blade spun from his hands like a flying arrow.
Thunk!
A soft, startled squeak rang out.
They turned.
Solaira stood frozen by the fire, blinking down at her chest. The wooden sword was lodged perfectly—ahem—between her... "scales," sticking straight up like a flagpole. Her cheeks turned beet red.
> [System] ALERT: Target struck—Solaira's pride has taken 1,000 embarrassment damage.
Solaira didn't say a word. She puffed her cheeks and hissed steam from her nostrils, tail stiffening like a spear.
Cian's jaw dropped. "I-I didn't mean to—!!"
> [System] Direct hit, soldier. If this were war, you'd be married now.
The old man turned away, chuckling with a cough. "That's what happens when you get careless."
Cian buried his face in his hands. "I want to disappear."
Shirayuki tilted her head, watching curiously… then tried poking her own chest with a stick.
> [System] …Please don't let this become a trend.
"Why don't you come get your sword already, Cian~?" she said with a playful pout, voice sweet but laced with that little sting of flustered sass.
Cian blinked, heart thumping. "W-what? I didn't mean to—!"
Before he could stammer further, the old man cleared his throat. "Nature's calling, lad. Give me a minute." And with that, he shuffled off toward the cabin, leaving Cian awkwardly standing there.
Cian took a breath, legs wobbling from the earlier spar. Just walk over there... nice and easy...
But as he stepped forward, his foot caught a root—he stumbled, arms flailing—and instinctively reached out to steady himself.
Rip.
His hand snagged the edge of Solaira's makeshift cloth wrap. A sharp tearing sound filled the air, followed by a sudden bounce as the fabric gave way. Solaira froze, eyes wide, face instantly red.
Cian's jaw dropped. "I-I didn't mean to!! I swear!"
Solaira gasped, crossing her arms over her chest too late. "Kyaa—Cian!! You brute! If you wanted to see, just ask properly!" Her tail whipped behind her in a flurry, face steaming.
The System chimed in, absolutely unhelpful as always:
[System Message: "Achievement unlocked — 'Peep Panic!' Now you're the local perv. Congratulations."]
Cian collapsed to his knees in panic. "I-I'm sorry!"
Solaira just huffed, turning away as she tried to fix the cloth. "Hmph. Boys."
Just as Cian was scrambling to help cover Solaira, the cabin door creaked open.
"Ahem. Shall we resume, lad?" the old man said, raising a brow with an amused chuckle. He didn't mention what he saw—or how much—but the smirk on his face said enough.
"A-Ah yes, sir!" Cian straightened up like nothing happened, cheeks still burning.
[System Message: "Gracefully dodged death by embarrassment… barely. Good luck, soldier."]
With wooden swords back in hand, Cian and the old man squared off again. Their blades clashed with a sharp crack, and Cian noticed the old man wasn't even using both hands yet still completely controlled the pace.
As their swords locked, the old man spoke in a low, steady voice. "Tomorrow, I'm giving you a real mission. A small test, but meaningful."
Cian blinked, pushing against the old man's blade. "A mission?"
The old man nodded. "There's a place not far from here. A shadowed grove nestled deep in the woods, quiet… too quiet. Something lurks there—powerful, yes, but not mindless. Graceful. Beautiful. Dangerous."
He stepped back and let his blade drop slightly.
"They call it Velmira, the Glimmerfang. A feline beast with glistening white fur and eyes like crystal flame. It doesn't fight with rage—it dances with death. Silent. Elegant. And it'll test whether you're ready for the next step."
Cian swallowed hard, nerves prickling.
[System Message: "Mission received: Don't die. Bonus: Impress the old man and maybe stop being a walking accident."]
The old man smirked, raising his wooden blade again. "Now, lad… let's make sure you survive the introduction."
Their swords clashed once more under the golden light of late morning, tension fading into rhythm and purpose.
Their wooden swords clacked again, but this time, Cian took a step back, eyes narrowing in thought.
"That move earlier…" he muttered. "The one where it felt like you stabbed the air a dozen times in a blink—what was that?"
The old man rested his sword on his shoulder, exhaling through his nose. "Ah, that one. I just call it Aculeus. Means 'Needle.' Simple, isn't it?"
Cian tilted his head. "It looked anything but simple…"
The old man chuckled. "That's the thing. It's just a basic, fast flurry of thrusts. But in this world, people like givin' names to everything they do. Adds weight, makes it easier to remember, helps you focus your intent."
He tapped his temple. "And shouting it out? That's half the fun. You'll see folks yelling 'Flame Cutter!' or 'Earth Shatter!' like they're putting on a show."
"So… yelling the name makes it stronger?" Cian asked.
"Not exactly," the old man smirked. "But it does help channel your focus and makes others recognize what's comin'. There's a rhythm to battle when people call their skills. Feels like music—painful, clashing music."
Cian nodded slowly. "So Aculeus is just—what?—a showy name for stabbing really fast?"
"Pretty much," he shrugged. "But when you say it with intent, it feels like something more. And sometimes, that illusion makes all the difference."
[System Message: "Skill Discovered: Aculeus – Fancy name, basic move. Still hurts like hell."]
Cian smirked. "Guess I better start naming my punches too…"
The old man grinned. "Just don't yell 'Pants Dropper' in public, lad."
The old man stepped forward, brushing the dust from his cloak. His eyes softened—not with weakness, but reverence.
"And this skill…" he said, voice low, almost like a whisper only the wind could hear, "this one, I will pass on to you, lad."
Cian straightened, sensing a shift in the air.
The old man gently raised his wooden sword, not with force, but with elegance. The movement was slow, deliberate, like tracing a memory long etched in the soul.
"I call it… Lunaris Arc."
Then, with a single sweeping motion—quiet, like moonlight brushing the surface of water—a crescent of force shimmered through the air. It passed in front of them like a silver wind.
The trees in its path didn't even sway.
They simply... fell.
Clean, smooth cuts. No splinters. No struggle. Just silence, followed by the slow, synchronized fall of trunks to the earth.
Cian's eyes widened. "That wasn't... just wood."
"No," the old man said, lowering his sword with a soft exhale. "It was memory, discipline, and a thousand nights under the moon."
[System Message: "Skill Observed: Lunaris Arc – Grace of the moon. Bite of legend. Style points: 100."]
"You'll learn it," the old man said, smiling gently. "When your blade stops chasing power—and starts dancing with it."
[System Message: "And that's just a wooden sword… Imagine if this geezer was in his prime, using a real blade. Lad, you'd be sliced cleaner than a birthday cake at a demon lord's party."]
Cian blinked at the fallen trees, his mouth slightly open.
"…Remind me to never piss him off," he muttered under his breath, still gripping his wooden sword like it was suddenly made of wet noodles.
He glanced at the old man, who was already casually stretching his back like he didn't just perform a myth-level move. "Yeah, totally normal stab. Just a little 'poke,' right?"
The old man chuckled. "What's that, lad?"
"N-nothing, sir! Just admiring trees… and their new positions. On the ground."
The old man lowered his wooden sword, eyes gazing at the treetops swaying gently from the arc's wind.
"Don't worry, lad. I believe you'll create more skills than I ever did," he said with a faint smile. "But remember—start with the basics. Dominate them. Master them. That's where real strength comes from."
He paused, coughing softly into his sleeve before continuing, his tone calm but full of lived truth.
"My mistake was chasing brilliance too soon… skipping steps, thinking flashier meant stronger. Took me too long to realize… 'A mountain stands not on its peak, but on the ground beneath it.'"
He gave Cian a firm look. "Be the kind of warrior whose blade rises only after his foundation is unshakable."