One month later.
On the West Training Grounds, a shirtless young man stood under the scorching sun, the longsword in his hands a blur of motion. His skin was tanned a bronze color and his body, once lean, was now a tapestry of scars and tightly coiled muscle.
This was Ethan.
His eyes were sharp and focused, each swing of his sword precise and powerful, cutting through the air with a distinct whistle. He stood perfectly balanced on a wooden post no thicker than his fist. He had performed over three hundred thousand basic swings in one month. The monotony was enough to drive a person mad, but Ethan had endured.
His entire demeanor had transformed. He was no longer a boy, but a blade being sharpened.
"Stop," Reno said.
Ethan brought his sword to a ready stance. His breathing was heavy, but steady.
"Not bad," Reno said, a rare hint of approval in his voice. "Your foundation is solid. From today, I will teach you how to truly fight."
He tossed Ethan a wooden sword. "Come. Attack me."
Ethan's eyes lit up. After a month of grueling, repetitive training, he finally had a chance to fight back. "Master, be careful!" he yelled, lunging forward like a panther, the wooden sword aimed straight for Reno's chest!
*Smack!*
A sharp crack echoed in the air. In a blur of motion, Ethan's sword was knocked from his hand, and Reno's was resting gently against his throat. He hadn't even seen him move.
"Too slow," Reno said, withdrawing the sword. "Your speed, power, and angle are all full of openings. To me, you look like a turtle trying to be a tiger."
Ethan's face flushed with shame.
"Don't be discouraged," Reno said, offering a rare word of comfort. "To have come this far in a month is something ninety percent of so-called 'geniuses' could never do. Your combat instincts are some of the best I've ever seen. Now, again!"
...
Later that day, Aila, Ron, and Buck came looking for him. They were stunned by his transformation.
"Ethan... what happened to you?" Aila asked, her eyes welling up as she saw the scars covering his body. "Is that instructor torturing you?"
"Yeah, man, you're a mage! Why are you putting yourself through this?" Ron pleaded.
Ethan smiled, a warmth spreading through his chest at his friends' concern. "I'm fine. I've never felt better." He could feel a new, powerful energy flowing through him.
Just then, a mocking voice cut through the air. "Well, if it isn't the academy's 'dual prodigy'?"
Viktor, flanked by a few other noble students, sauntered over. "What's the matter? Finally realized your magic is a joke and decided to become a brainless brute instead?" he sneered. "Pathetic. A peasant is always a peasant."
"Viktor, you've gone too far!" Aila shouted, stepping in front of Ethan.
Ethan stopped Ron from charging forward. He looked at Viktor, his eyes calm. Words were useless against people like him. Only a blade could silence him.
"Let's go," he said, ignoring Viktor completely and turning back to his training. Viktor's face twisted in fury at being ignored.
"You... you just wait! In the next practical class, I'll beat you to a pulp!"
...
"Why weren't you angry?" Reno asked after they had left.
"Anger is useless," Ethan replied calmly. "Only strength can shut people up."
A look of deep appreciation appeared in Reno's eyes. "Good. You have grasped the heart of a warrior. For that, I'll teach you something new today."
He led Ethan to a quiet corner of the grounds. "That black and red fire of yours... it's a power of pure destruction. Have you ever considered combining it with your sword?"
The words struck Ethan like a bolt of lightning. Of course! How had he not thought of it? If he could channel his variant flame through his sword, his attacks would be devastating. "But... how?"
"I don't know," Reno said bluntly. "I'm not a mage. But the principle should be the same. Control your mana as you control your arm. Let it become a part of you, and then extend it to the blade."
Ethan closed his eyes and tried to channel the faint, volatile stream of black-red mana within him. He carefully guided it down his arm towards the wooden sword in his hand. But the moment the energy was about to touch the wood, it exploded violently!
*Boom!*
A small burst of uncontrolled flame erupted from his hand, shattering the wooden sword and knocking him backward, his palm scorched black.
He looked at his ruined sword and his blackened hand and gave a wry smile. This path of combining magic and martial arts was going to be even harder than he thought. But his eyes, far from being discouraged, burned with an even fiercer determination.
He had found his true path.