An hour had passed.
The joint exercise between the Knight and Rogue classes had already turned into something far beyond a simple simulation. The ground was trampled, breaths grew heavier, and the sound of wooden weapons clashing echoed along the path leading toward the capital of Aurel. The objective was clear defend or seize the shoulder guards but the method… depended entirely on individual capability.
"Damn it…!" one Knight student at the front cursed while continuing to sprint, his breathing no longer stable.
Behind him, Omnia tightened her grip on her wooden sword. "This sword… isn't strong enough to hold them off."
Elyria remained calm despite the sweat running down her temple. "Fortunately, they're using incapacitation techniques. If this were a real battle… we would have lost from the start."
"But I think…" Ketty cut in, panting, "…they don't actually intend to confront us."
Omnia glanced at her.
Her eyes shifted toward the Rogue movements in the distance.
"…You're right."
Her voice was quiet.
"They're avoiding us."
No one responded.
But everyone understood.
They weren't the main targets.
On the other side, far beyond the gates of Aurel, the atmosphere was far rougher.
Aider stood facing a Rogue, his breathing still steady despite the sweat on his neck.
"Come on, little Baron," Jack said while spinning his wooden dagger, "hand over your shoulder guard."
Aider let out a small laugh. "I know you… if I'm not mistaken, Rack?"
Jack flinched. "What-"
"…Ah, right," Aider continued casually, "I remember your name from yesterday's evaluation."
Jack's face tightened.
"My name is not Rack."
Silence.
Jack tilted his head, then smiled widely.
"Look at your face… this will be easy."
"Little Baron…" he lowered his stance, "…let's begin."
Aider let out a low growl.
"With pleasure, Rack."
Meanwhile, at the base of Arnel Hill, the situation was no less tense.
Cillian and Blane continued running, their breathing growing heavier. Not because they were weak but because the number of pursuers was far from reasonable.
"This is insane…" Blane muttered between breaths. "Are all the Rogues here? What about the ones ahead?"
"They're spread out," Cillian replied briefly. "This is only a portion."
A memory from minutes earlier surfaced.
They had hidden, thinking they were safe after one group of Rogues passed by.
But another set of footsteps came from behind.
Quieter.
More dangerous.
"This is your fault, Blane."
"This is our fault," Blane replied without hesitation.
Now.
Blane stopped.
Abruptly.
Cillian halted a few steps behind him.
Blane exhaled deeply.
"Cillian. You go ahead."
"I'll hold them off."
Cillian stared at him for a few seconds.
Then,
"…interesting."
He stepped to the side.
"I'll stay."
Blane smiled faintly.
His wooden sword lifted.
A faint golden aura began to coat the blade.
Not excessive.
Not wild.
But stable.
Balanced.
Cillian observed calmly.
He's stabilizing mana output through a wooden medium without damaging it…
Good precision.
Blane stepped forward.
Facing two Rogues at once.
Meanwhile, four other Rogues surrounded Cillian.
He lifted his shoulder slightly.
"You're targeting this?"
His finger pointed to the shoulder guard.
"There are two of us."
"Why not take more?"
No answer.
But one figure stepped forward.
Felix.
Cillian drew his wooden sword.
"…It's been a while."
Felix smiled faintly.
"Long time no see."
On the other side, Gina smirked. "Come on, Miister Evalin. Is that all you've got?"
Blane wiped his forehead.
Facing two opponents alone was already difficult.
But when he glanced toward Cillian four opponents.
He smiled.
"Twice the number…"
"…fine. I won't hold back."
His golden aura intensified slightly.
Denser.
More focused.
Felix raised his hand slightly, signaling the three Rogues behind him.
"Remember, no Enlightenment-"
Before he could finish two Rogues collapsed.
Silence.
Felix exhaled softly.
"…It seems conventional methods won't be enough."
He glanced at Cillian.
"To face Young Master Magnus… we'll use a different approach."
Cillian exhaled quietly.
"There are too many of you."
Felix glanced at the remaining Rogue.
"You."
"Support the others."
The Rogue hesitated.
But eventually stepped back.
Now only the two of them remained.
"How is Alyssa?" Felix suddenly asked, his tone casual.
Cillian shrugged slightly.
"The same as ever."
"Still dependent on that fan?"
"Still."
"And her chibi curse?"
"…No change."
Felix's smile faded.
So did Cillian's.
In a single second the atmosphere shifted.
The first clash came.
Wooden blade against wooden dagger.
Dry.
Fast.
Cillian stepped back, widening the distance.
His sword angle shifted.
Sharper.
More direct.
Felix didn't hold back.
His body began to fade.
Slowly.
Becoming transparent.
"To be honest…" he muttered, "…I didn't want to use this."
Stealth.
His form nearly disappeared entirely.
"Facing you normally… is impossible."
His hands vanished.
His breathing thinned.
And within his mind, voices began to surface.
Sharp.
Repetitive.
Pressing.
"Why are you different…"
"Fe- Felix… why… you…"
The voice broke. Layered. Coming from a place without form.
Felix stood within darkness. There was no ground, no walls, only echoes of voices he knew far too well.
"Oh… what's wrong, brother?"
A smaller tone. Softer. More painful.
"Felix."
Silence.
"Why are you like this?"
He didn't answer.
Within that darkness, a sentence surfaced slow, heavy.
"In the Frontera sword family… a difference in class is failure."
His own voice.
Cold.
Leaving no room for denial.
And the memory… began to open.
Once, everything had been simple.
His older sibling always stood at the front, holding a sword with perfect posture, demonstrating technique after technique passed down through generations. Every movement was precise, clean, without hesitation. And behind them, Felix stood with shining eyes, trying to replicate every detail.
"Again."
"Yes, brother."
The first swing was too weak.
The second too heavy.
The third… closer.
His sibling never got angry.
Only corrected.
Always patient.
Meanwhile, the youngest…
always waited.
"Brother Felix! Watch me later, okay!"
That voice never changed.
Full of hope.
Full of pride.
Felix remembered it all.
Clearly.
Too clearly.
Until that day came.
The test.
An Academy instructor stood before them, gaze sharp, judging without emotion.
"Your physique is not suited for a Knight."
The sentence fell.
Without mercy.
Felix didn't understand at first.
"Your stamina is too stable. Poor power distribution. Your reflexes are too consistent."
Each word… shaved something away from inside him.
"But…"
The instructor paused.
Looked deeper.
"You have a different tendency."
The room went silent.
"Try to activate your talent."
Felix swallowed.
He wanted to prove himself.
He wanted to remain a Knight.
He wanted… to stay on his family's path.
He only wanted Aura.
He tried to call it.
But what appeared…
was not light.
His body trembled.
Transparent.
Partially.
Incomplete.
Unstable.
Silence.
He looked at them.
His father.
His mother.
His sibling.
His younger one.
Their expressions… were different.
But one thing was the same.
Shock.
And among all of them, the one most broken…
was his father.
Felix knew it.
It didn't need to be said.
And yet his father still spoke.
"Continue."
His voice was firm.
But empty.
From that moment on…
everything changed.
His sibling stopped teaching him.
Not angry.
Not openly distant.
Just… cold.
His younger one…
still smiled.
But approached less.
Conversations became short.
Awkward.
And Felix who was never good at socializing, lost everything.
He had no friends.
No place.
Except…
two people.
Cillian and Alyssa.
He didn't know why.
Maybe because they were the same.
Or maybe because…
they didn't care.
A few weeks later, his sibling's birthday celebration was held.
Grand.
Filled with nobles.
Laughter.
Empty conversations.
Cillian stood in a corner, as always, away from the crowd.
Alyssa… that day didn't bring her fan.
And as a result,
she became small.
Very small.
Her face innocent.
Cheeks soft.
Truly like a child.
Felix remembered it clearly.
"So that's how it is…" Cillian had said.
Felix looked at his own hands.
"I… don't want to become a Rogue."
The words came out before he realized.
Alyssa, sitting in Cillian's arms like a child, looked at him.
"Fate is difficult to change."
Her voice was light.
Not deep.
not empty.
"So… be yourself."
"There's no need to care about others."
Felix fell silent.
Then, laughed.
Not because he was moved.
But because
Alyssa's appearance didn't match those words.
It was enough.
From that day on,
he stopped resisting.
He began to train.
To refine himself.
As something he hated.
As something he did not choose.
Assassin.
Thief.
Two years.
Two years of collapse.
And now,
he stood here.
In front of the same person.
"It seems…"
Felix opened his eyes.
The world returned.
Light.
Dust.
The sound of breathing.
"…I really can't keep up with you, Cillian."
His body still unsteady.
But he stood.
In front of him, Cillian supported Blane, who was exhausted.
That same gaze.
Calm.
Unsettling.
"I didn't expect you to use stealth," Cillian said quietly.
"So… you've made peace with it?"
Felix didn't answer immediately.
He looked to the side.
His five companions.
Collapsed.
Helpless.
Silence.
He remembered Alyssa's words.
Be yourself.
He took a breath.
"…maybe."
Cillian exhaled softly.
"Sorry."
"I can't give you this shoulder guard."
"Because we have to keep moving."
Felix nodded.
No objection.
He bowed slightly, then lifted Gina with effort.
"Alright… see you, Cillian."
Cillian didn't reply.
He simply walked away.
Supporting Blane, who had begun to complain.
"Ah… it hurts…"
"Just walk," Cillian replied flatly.
Their steps moved away.
Further.
And further.
Felix watched that back.
In silence.
He hoped… someday he could truly become himself.
Even if…
that meant remaining a burden.
Gina exhaled weakly on his shoulder.
"…we're going to get scolded."
Felix shrugged slightly.
"No."
"Instructor Anna wouldn't get angry just because we failed."
Gina fell silent.
Then looked at him.
"…you don't know?"
Felix frowned.
"Know what?"
Gina closed her eyes briefly.
"…Rogue Class III."
"That's not Instructor Anna."
Silence.
"…it's Instructor Marl. Marl Biero."
Felix froze.
Slowly.
Very slowly,
he turned his head.
Looking at his fallen teammates.
Then at the morning sky, slowly changing color.
His breath halted.
"…I'm… done."
No one answered.
Only the wind.
And the rising sun.
As if it didn't care at all.