"No! don't do that!"
Hana's voice tore through the clearing.
It came a fraction of a second too late.
The bandit, no, the man who had once been a bandit, had already crushed the seed between his teeth.
There was a sound.
Not loud.
Not explosive.
A wet crack, followed by a pulse.
Jariz felt it before he saw anything change. The air itself seemed to recoil, as if the forest had inhaled sharply and forgotten how to breathe out again.
The man's body stiffened.
Veins bulged along his neck and arms, dark lines spreading beneath his skin like fractures in stone. His aura, once rough and violent, erupted outward, no longer invisible. It bled into the air in waves of deep red, tinged with something darker, almost black.
A pressure slammed into Jariz's chest.
He staggered back, instinctively grabbing Aren before the boy could collapse forward.
"Aren, stay with me," Jariz muttered, teeth clenched.
Aren didn't answer immediately. His vision swam, his lungs burning as if he had been dragged underwater. He could feel it—this aura was nothing like what he had faced before. It wasn't just stronger.
It was wrong.
The man let out a roar that was no longer fully human.
"Move," he growled, staring straight at Hana. "Get out of my way, knight. I have to kill them. I have to."
Hana stepped forward instead.
Her red cloak fluttered once as she planted her feet between the transformed man and the two boys.
"No," she said, her voice steady despite the tension in her shoulders. "You've already crossed the line."
The man laughed, a broken, rasping sound.
"Line? My brother is dead. Nothing matters anymore."
His aura surged again.
Jariz felt his knees weaken.
Six stars, he realized dimly.
No, more precisely, the pressure felt like six stars forcibly carved into a body that could never sustain them.
This isn't power, he thought.
This is an overload.
Hana drew her sword.
Unlike the bandit's crude weapon or Aren's worn blade, hers was clean, precise, almost austere. Sacred inscriptions glimmered faintly along its edge—not glowing, not dramatic, simply… present.
She exhaled slowly.
Vice-captain. Stay calm.
The man charged.
The ground exploded beneath his feet as he swung his axe in a brutal arc meant to split everything in front of him apart.
Hana vanished.
A sharp gust spiraled around her legs, lifting dust and leaves as compressed wind surged beneath her boots. She reappeared to the side as the axe crashed into empty space, the impact shattering the earth and snapping bark from nearby trees.
"So fast…" Jariz whispered.
Hana moved again.
The wind wrapped around her body in thin, controlled layers—never wild, never wasteful. She slashed forward, and a blade of compressed air followed her sword.
—WHRRRR—
The invisible edge tore through the man's side. Blood sprayed across the clearing.
He staggered but didn't fall. His aura flared brighter, darker.
He swung wildly.
Hana leapt back, the wind carrying her just beyond the axe's reach.
"You're burning through your aura," she said evenly. "You won't last."
"I don't need to last!" he roared. "Just long enough!"
He slammed his foot into the ground.
Aura detonated outward.
The pressure crushed the clearing. Jariz dropped to one knee, barely managing to keep Aren upright. Even through blurred vision, Aren felt his chest tighten as if the air itself had turned heavy.
Hana planted her sword into the ground. Wind roared around her like a barrier, splitting the shockwave as it passed.
When it cleared, she was still standing.
She raised her blade.
Multiple wind blades formed along her swing—thin crescents of compressed air that tore forward in staggered arcs. The man crossed his axe defensively.
—CRASH—
The wind blades exploded against his aura, carving deep gashes across his arms and chest.
He roared in pain.
His aura flickered.
Just for an instant.
Aren noticed it.
It's unstable.
The man charged again, rage overriding pain. His axe came down in a monstrous overhead strike.
Hana stepped into the attack.
Wind surged beneath her feet.
Steel met steel.
The impact was devastating. The ground cracked beneath Hana's boots as she was driven backward, arms screaming under the weight of the blow.
But she twisted her wrists at the last moment.
The wind wrapped around her blade and slid the axe aside.
The axe buried itself into the ground.
Hana struck.
Three rapid slashes, each reinforced with compressed wind.
Blood poured freely now.
The man staggered, breath ragged. His swings lost precision. His aura surged again, then sputtered.
"No!" he snarled. "Not yet!"
His legs buckled.
Hana closed the distance in an instant.
The flat of her blade struck his wrist.
—CRACK—
Bone shattered. The axe fell.
She drove her knee into his chest and slammed him to the ground, sword stopping at his throat.
The aura collapsed inward like a dying flame.
Silence fell.
The man convulsed once, then lay still.
"…It's over," Hana said.
Jariz stared at the fallen man.
"That seed," he said hesitantly. "What was it?"
Hana's gaze snapped to him.
"That information is classified," she said sharply. "State secret. I'm not authorized to disclose details."
Jariz flinched.
"But..."
"What I can say," she continued, her tone lowering, "is that it's strictly forbidden. It forcibly overloads the aura system, shattering the user's stars."
She looked down at the man.
"He will never use aura again."
Aren let out a slow breath.
So that's the price…
Hana turned to him then.
"You did well," she said simply.
Aren blinked, surprised.
"I lost," he replied hoarsely.
Hana shook her head.
"No. You survived. And you understood when you were outmatched. That matters more."
She paused, then added, quieter, "Especially at your age."
The aftermath passed in a blur.
Hana secured the unconscious man, binding him with reinforced restraints etched with suppressive runes. She signaled toward the east, where faint structures could be seen through the trees.
"The border camp is close," she said. "You're coming with me."
Jariz nodded quickly.
"Yes, ma'am."
The march was slow.
Aren leaned heavily on Jariz's shoulder, exhaustion finally catching up to him now that the danger had passed. By the time they reached the Red Knight encampment, the sun was already dipping low.
Paperwork followed. Questions. Verifications.
Their status as academy candidates was confirmed.
"You'll rest here," Hana told them. "A day and a half. No more."
Jariz collapsed onto a cot the moment he was allowed.
Aren sat instead, staring at his hands.
He had fought. He had survived.
And still… it hadn't been enough.
The next morning, Hana approached them again.
"I'll escort you the rest of the way," she said. "The city isn't far."
Half a day later, they saw it.
The academic city rose before them, vast and radiant. White stone walls. Towers carved with ancient sigils. Streets alive with movement, merchants calling out, and candidates gathering from every corner of the continent.
Aren stopped walking.
He looked up.
Beyond the city, above everything else, stood the Academy of Nerathis.
He inhaled deeply.
"…This is it," he said quietly. "This is where it starts."
Jariz smiled weakly beside him.
And somewhere deep inside Aren, a single thought burned, clear, calm, undeniable.
I need to find a way to use mana.
Not to be stronger than others.
But to keep moving forward.