The tea in Elian's cup rippled.
Not because of the wind—the wind had died down the moment the Great Sage spoke—but because of the sheer anxiety emanating from the man kneeling on the grass.
Darius Vaeloris, a man who held enough political power in the capital to make minor nobles tremble, looked like a child caught stealing sweets. He kept glancing between the looming mountain of muscle that was his father, Altus, and the glowing prodigy, Kael.
His eyes barely lingered on Elian. To Darius, Elian was a tragedy. A blind boy in a world where sight and aim were essential for magic. Dead weight.
"Father," Darius stammered, wiping sweat from his brow with a silk handkerchief. "The situation in the capital is... delicate. The King's health is failing. The noble factions are circling like vultures. If the House of Vaeloris does not show its strength now, we will be eaten alive."
He turned to Kael, his expression shifting to desperate hope. "That is why we need him. Kael. With his power... he could secure our standing for the next fifty years."
Kael crossed his arms, looking uncomfortable. "I don't care about politics, Uncle. I just want to fight strong opponents."
"The Academy has the strongest!" Darius promised quickly. "The Crown Prince attends. The genius of the Ice Tower. The Sword Saints of the North. They are all there."
Kael's eyes lit up. "Grandfather? Can we go?"
Altus sighed, the sound like a crumbling glacier. "If Kael wishes it, so be it. But we do not go as your political pawns, Darius. We go as a family."
Darius blinked. "We?"
"I am moving to the capital," Altus stated. "I cannot let these boys loose in a city of vipers without supervision. I will purchase an estate."
Darius turned pale. The return of the Great Sage wasn't just a political move; it was a geopolitical earthquake. "O-of course! I will arrange the finest carriage immediately!"
Two Days Later – The Canyon of Whispers
The carriage was a marvel of magic engineering. It didn't roll on wheels; it hovered two feet off the ground, propelled by wind crystals embedded in the chassis. inside, the seats were lined with velvet, and the air was kept cool by runes carved into the mahogany walls.
Kael was glued to the window, watching the landscape blur by. "This thing is fast! Almost as fast as me running at full speed!"
Elian sat opposite him, his cane resting against his knee. His eyes were covered by the white cloth, his expression serene.
Suspension system based on rudimentary magnetic levitation principles, Elian mused silently, analyzing the vibrations vibrating through the floorboards. Inefficient. The mana consumption is thirty percent higher than necessary because the runic script on the rear axle is misaligned. Whoever built this focused on luxury, not utility.
"Are you okay, Elian?" Kael asked, turning from the window. "You haven't said a word for an hour. Is the motion sickness bothering you?"
"I am fine, brother," Elian said, smiling. "I am just listening. The echo in this canyon is... interesting."
Darius, sitting next to Elian, cleared his throat awkwardly. "Elian, once we reach the capital, I have arranged for you to stay in the secondary wing of the estate. It is quiet there. You won't be... disturbed by the bustle of the city."
Translation: I'm hiding the cripple so he doesn't embarrass the family, Elian thought.
"That sounds lovely, Uncle," Elian replied politely. "I do enjoy the quiet."
Suddenly, Elian's head snapped up.
His "sight" expanded. Through the walls of the carriage, past the rushing wind, he perceived the world in a wireframe of energy.
High above, on the canyon ridges—six heat signatures.
Fast. aggressive.
Their mana flow was spiking.
killing intent, Elian analyzed. Targeting the levitation crystals.
"Kael," Elian said softly. "Duck."
"Huh?"
BOOM!
An explosion rocked the canyon. A fireball the size of a boulder slammed into the side of the carriage. The defensive runes flared gold, absorbing the impact, but the force sent the vehicle spinning out of control.
"We're under attack!" Darius screamed, clutching the seat.
The carriage skidded across the dirt, crashing into the canyon wall. Dust and rock rained down.
Before the dust even settled, Kael kicked the door off its hinges. It flew fifty feet and embedded itself in a tree.
"Who's there?!" Kael roared, stepping out. His mana flared, turning the air around him scorching hot.
Six figures leaped down from the cliffs. They wore dark gray armor and masks with no eye holes—Sensory Mages. Mercenaries trained to hunt without being blinded by flash-bang spells.
"Hand over the noble!" the leader shouted, his voice amplified by magic. "And leave the kids, and you might live!"
Kael cracked his knuckles, a feral grin spreading across his face. "Grandfather said I wasn't allowed to fight humans because they break too easily. But if you're bandits... that rule doesn't apply, right?"
"Kill the boy!" The leader signaled.
Three mercenaries rushed Kael. They were Tier 4 mages—veterans who could slaughter a platoon of normal soldiers. One conjured earth spikes, another fired wind blades, and the third lunged with a mana-infused greatsword.
Kael didn't even dodge.
He took a step forward and punched the air.
Tier 7 Magic: Impact Cannon.
The air pressure collapsed. The wind blades shattered. The earth spikes turned to dust. The mercenary with the greatsword was blown backward like a ragdoll, skipping across the ground for a hundred meters before crashing into a rock.
"Weak!" Kael yelled, disappointed.
While Kael engaged the main force, creating a spectacle of fire and noise, the battlefield chaos masked a smaller, deadlier movement.
One mercenary—a rogue specialized in assassination—had slipped past Kael. He saw the overturned carriage. He saw the terrified noble, Darius. And he saw the blind boy standing helplessly by the wreckage.
The noble is the target, the assassin thought. The blind kid is collateral.
The assassin moved like a shadow, dagger raised, aiming for Darius's throat.
Darius froze, his magic failing him in his panic. He stared at death approaching.
Elian stood between them. He looked terrified, clutching his cane with trembling hands, his head turning wildly as if he couldn't tell where the noise was coming from.
Target velocity: 14 meters per second, Elian's mind calculated instantly. Angle of approach: 32 degrees. Heart rate of attacker: elevated. Vulnerability detected: Left knee joint, anterior cruciate ligament.
The assassin sneered. He wouldn't even waste a spell on the blind kid. He just shoved Elian aside with his off-hand.
Elian stumbled. To the outside world, it looked like a clumsy fall.
But as he fell, the tip of his wooden cane "accidentally" tapped the ground.
Technique: Earth Ripple – Micro-Vibration.
Elian injected a tiny, needle-thin pulse of mana into the earth. It traveled six inches and struck the exact spot where the assassin's boot was about to land.
The ground didn't crack. It simply... shifted. A millimeter of movement.
The assassin's foot landed on the shifting soil. His ankle rolled. His momentum, traveling at 14 meters per second, had nowhere to go.
SNAP.
The sound of the ligament tearing was lost under the roar of Kael's fire magic.
"Argh!" The assassin's knee buckled. He pitched forward, his balance destroyed.
As he fell, his face plummeted directly toward the knob of Elian's cane, which Elian had "clumsily" raised while trying to regain his own balance.
Physics application: Conservation of momentum.
The assassin's nose met the oak cane with the force of a falling brick.
CRACK.
The cartilage exploded. The shockwave traveled into the skull, rattling the brain against the cranium. Instant concussion.
The assassin collapsed in a heap at Elian's feet, twitching.
Elian fell onto his butt, looking horrified. "Ah! Uncle! Someone fell!"
Darius blinked, his brain unable to process what had just happened. One moment the assassin was a blur of death; the next, he had tripped and knocked himself out on the blind boy's walking stick.
"I... I..." Darius stammered.
"Is everyone okay?!" Kael shouted, landing next to them. The other five mercenaries were already unconscious or groaning in piles of rubble. Kael looked at the assassin lying at Elian's feet. "Whoa. Did he trip?"
"I think so," Elian said, his voice trembling convincingly. "I heard him running, and then... a crack. I was so scared, Kael."
Kael patted Elian's shoulder gently. "It's okay, little brother. I'm here. Clumsy idiots like this can't hurt you."
Kael kicked the unconscious assassin away.
Inside his mind, Elian's cold monologue resumed.
The assassin was a Tier 5 Shadow Walker. His movement technique was flawed; he put too much weight on his lead foot. Correcting that error would have taken him three years of training. I ended it in 0.4 seconds.
Elian stood up, dusting off his robes. He turned his face toward the capital, a hidden smile playing on his lips.
If this is the standard of danger in the outside world... this is going to be child's play.
"Come on," Elian said, reaching for Kael's arm. "Let's get Uncle Darius out of the carriage. He smells like he's about to faint."
End of Chapter 2