The world drifted in and out, colors fading into white, then swelling back into sound, then fading again. I didn't know where I was—only that something warm pressed against my forehead, a faint hum of ether, and muffled voices.
"…too much for his core…"
"…it was an uncontrolled bloom…"
"…how is this even possible…"
I tried opening my eyes.
Everything hurt.
My chest felt like it had been caved in. My arms shook just trying to lift them. My throat was dry like sand. And my head… my head felt like someone drove a spear through it.
I groaned. "Where am I…?"
The voices froze.
Then someone practically sprinted to my bedside.
"You're awake."
A familiar voice—irritatingly calm, formal, and always pretending he wasn't worried.
Varein.
My vision blurred then refocused. White sheets. A faint smell of medicinal herbs. The soft blue glow of healing crystals embedded in the walls.
The infirmary.
Varein sat beside me, one arm bandaged, his spear leaning against the wall. His dark green hair was messy, like he'd been running his hands through it nonstop—nervous habit.
"…How long…" I tried to ask, but my throat burned so badly the words came out as croaks.
"Two days," Varein answered quietly. "You've been unconscious for two whole days."
Two… days?
I blinked weakly. "What… happened…?"
Varein stared at me like I'd just asked what a sword was.
"What happened?" he repeated, voice cracking slightly. "You awakened aura in the middle of a duel with a Knight Instructor, nearly overpowered two professors at once, shook the entire academy, and then collapsed because you drained your core dry. That's what happened."
I stared at the ceiling, trying to recall the moment.
The vibration in my sword.
The world going silent.
My own voice screaming.
Sir Rodomous' challenge.
The crack of power slamming through my veins.
And then—
Nothing.
My chest tightened just from thinking about it.
"What… do they think?" I asked.
Varein gave me a look I didn't know how to interpret.
"It depends who you ask."
I forced myself to sit up. My body screamed at me, but Varein steadied my shoulder.
"Some students think you're terrifying," he continued. "Some think you're a fluke that should've died. Some think you're a monster. Some… think you're inspiring."
"…And the instructors?"
"Director Raymond cleared the battlefield within minutes. The Commander and General personally inspected the aura residue." His lips tightened. "Even Knight Captains came."
Knight Captains…
Ten of the strongest people in the entire kingdom.
For me?
"For two days," Varein said slowly, "Lionhearth has been… shaken. Everything is different because of you."
I swallowed. The words didn't feel real.
"I didn't mean for any of that," I muttered.
"Of course you didn't." Varein leaned back, eyes softer now. "Awakenings never happen cleanly. But yours was… overwhelming. Uncontrolled. The aura didn't respond to training or meditation—it responded to your will."
He exhaled slowly.
"That's why Sir Aldred called you 'a boy of promise.' Not because of your strength. But because of what awakened."
I stared at him.
"My will…?"
He nodded.
"You didn't awaken out of hatred. Or ego. Or desire for power. You awakened because you refused to lose. Because something inside you wouldn't allow defeat—even when your body had nothing left. That kind of catalyst is rare."
I didn't know what to say.
Because deep down… I didn't feel proud.
I didn't feel strong.
I didn't feel like a miracle.
I felt like I got lucky.
Like if Rodomous wanted, he could've killed me.
Like I didn't deserve any of this.
"…Was anyone hurt?" I asked in a low voice.
Varein blinked. "Hurt? Rain, you almost tore down half the arena."
"I meant the professors."
"Oh." He paused. "…They're fine. Sir Rodomous was impressed. Knight Aldred was relieved you didn't die."
My hands trembled.
Good.
At least I hadn't hurt anyone seriously.
Then Varein's expression shifted. Something strained, something unsaid.
"What?" I asked.
He hesitated. Then:
"The academy issued an emergency statement. They named you publicly."
My heart stopped.
"…Named me… what?"
Varein met my eyes with a level of seriousness I'd never seen from him before.
"They named you the Boy of Promise."
A long silence filled the room.
Boy of Promise.
Boy of Promise…
It didn't feel real.
"What does that even mean…?"
"It means your awakening wasn't normal," Varein said. "It means the kingdom is watching. It means expectations will crush you if you're not careful. It means students will come for you. Test you. Challenge you. It means—"
He stopped, seeing the look on my face.
I felt sick.
I never wanted this.
I just wanted to become a knight.
Not some symbol.
Not some prodigy.
Not some target.
"…I didn't ask for any of that," I whispered.
"I know," Varein said gently.
But the damage was done.
My life at the academy would never be the same.
A heavy knock echoed through the infirmary doors.
"Rain of Ignis."
That voice—firm, powerful, impossible to ignore.
Sir Aldred.
The door opened, and the instructor stepped in, cloak trailing behind him, silver armor catching the light. His eyes scanned me, then the room, then returned to me.
Varein stood, bowing slightly. Aldred nodded back before approaching my bed.
"…How do you feel?" he asked.
"Like I got hit by a boulder," I deadpanned.
Aldred huffed. "…Good. Your sarcasm survived."
He paused.
"I will get straight to the point. Your awakening was powerful enough that Knight Captains felt it from across the academy. That level of output—it's unheard of for a first-year."
I looked away.
"I couldn't control it."
"No one expects you to," Aldred said. "An awakening is raw. Violent. Terrifying. The fact that you regained consciousness at all is impressive."
I didn't feel impressive.
I felt like a mistake waiting to happen again.
Sir Aldred knelt slightly so he was eye-level with me.
"Rain. Listen carefully."
I looked at him.
"You didn't awaken because of talent. Or luck. You awakened because your will forced the core open. That kind of awakening is the mark of a knight who will one day stand on the front lines."
He let that sink in.
"You survived something most die from. And you protected others despite everything against you. That is why you are the Boy of Promise."
My chest tightened.
Promise.
A word that felt heavier than the blade I carried.
"…What happens now?" I asked quietly.
Aldred rose to his feet.
"We test the stability of your aura. Train its control. And repair your sword."
I froze.
"My sword…?"
Aldred exhaled. "It is… damaged. Not broken. But changed. Awakenings bond weapons and cores in unpredictable ways. You'll see for yourself once you're strong enough to stand."
My heart clenched.
That sword was everything.
The slums. My first battles. My determination.
I had to see it.
But my body felt too heavy to move.
"Rest today," Aldred ordered. "Tomorrow morning, we begin."
"Begin what?"
He gave a thin smile.
"Your real training."
By the next morning I could finally sit up without feeling like my soul was exiting my body.
News had spread far beyond Lionhearth.
Whispers everywhere.
Students passing by the infirmary window slowed down. Some stared. Some whispered. Some avoided eye contact entirely.
I hated it.
I hated all of it.
I wasn't a monster.
I wasn't some prodigy.
I didn't even know how to control my aura yet.
But the academy didn't care.
The kingdom didn't care.
They only saw the spectacle.
A first-year.
A commoner.
Who forced open a dormant core with sheer will.
Who made aura explode like a storm.
Who shook the schools' colosseum.
"Boy of Promise."
What a stupid title.
If anything, I was the Boy of Problems.
But even so…
I wanted to earn the meaning behind it.
Properly.
When Aldred came to retrieve me, I could walk—slowly, but on my own.
We made our way toward the courtyard behind the training halls.
Wordlessly, Aldred stopped and turned to face me, his expression unreadable.
"There is something you must understand," he said. "Your awakening did not go unnoticed."
"I guessed."
"No, Rain." Aldred's tone sharpened. "You don't understand. The Highest Knight Order is watching. The academy council is watching. Even the royal family has shown interest."
I felt a chill.
"…Why?"
"Because awakenings like yours happen once every few centuries. And because you did it under pressure, while protecting another student."
Varein.
I swallowed.
Aldred continued:
"Students will challenge you now—some out of fear, some out of pride, some out of curiosity. Some… out of hatred. Class 1-A especially has been stirred."
I clenched my jaw.
Those bastards from the exam…
"And the prodigies?"
"They're more conflicted than I expected," Aldred admitted. "Some respect you more now. Some envy you. Some fear you. And some will seek to surpass you."
"Let them," I muttered. "I'm not planning to stop."
Aldred smirked faintly.
"That's what I wanted to hear."
He finally led me into a quiet chamber deep inside the training facility.
My sword lay on a pedestal.
No longer sharp.
No longer beautiful.
It shimmered faintly with a pale, icy blue light—my aura.
It had changed.
Its cracks were filled with white streaks, as if lightning had been frozen inside the metal.
I reached out slowly.
The moment my hand touched the hilt—
A pulse surged through me.
Not painful.
Not overwhelming.
Warm.
Like recognition.
Like greeting an old friend who had changed… yet stayed the same.
I exhaled shakily.
"…You're still here."
Aldred watched silently.
"That sword is now attuned to you alone," he explained. "Only you can wield it without backlash. It will grow with you. And it will reflect your will."
I tightened my grip.
Then I whispered:
"Let's get stronger."
The sword hummed in response.