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Her voice carried an inexplicable sense of awe. Ronan shrugged and handed over Lamancha.

As soon as Navirose grasped the hilt, the crimson mana burst forth like blood rushing from a wound.

“What the…!”

Ronan stepped back in shock. It looked as though the sword was dripping blood. The mana that flowed out was so dense that it could be mistaken for a liquid, it was that concentrated.

It was on a completely different scale from the time with Valzac. The crimson mana continued to pour out relentlessly. In no time, the mana covered the floor of the arena, rising up to the ankles of the students.

“Ugh! What is this?”

“Blood…?”

“I feel sick…”

The students were bewildered. Lamancha’s sword spirit was emitting a menacing crimson light that was far from its original color. Navirose, who had been observing the phenomenon with fascination, muttered quietly.

“Ferocious, yet flexible. It truly resembles its owner.”

“Damn, what have you done to my sword?”

Instead of answering, she tightened her grip on the hilt. The mana that had been flowing throughout the arena began to be absorbed back into Lamancha. In a matter of seconds, a clean floor was revealed. Navirose turned to Ronan after diverting her gaze from the sword spirit.

“Let me start by saying that what you are seeing now is the true form of this sword.”

“You mean that flashy thing earlier?”

“Yes. When I infused mana, it awakened the hidden power within.”

Navirose’s eyes sparkled with interest. She looked like a child receiving a new toy. She turned Lamancha in a full circle and then spoke.

“Very well-crafted weapons add their own color to the user’s attacks, like my Uruza or the Pale Road of the Duke Gracia. Your sword is no different.”

“It seems like our little genius used some sort of power after all.”

“That’s right. It has the potential to be on par with some of the legendary swords. Let me show you just how little you knew about this sword.”

She suddenly swung the sword as if targeting a scarecrow. Along the narrow trajectory, a liquid-like Sword Qi shot out.

However, it was quite different from what Valzac had displayed. Valzac’s Sword Qi had been like a deluge, spreading wide like a bucket of water thrown. In contrast, Navirose’s sword Qi was more like a rapid torrent, pouring in a straight line.

Kwaang!

The torrent of Sword Qi swept up the scarecrow, uprooting it from the ground. But the Sword Qi didn’t stop there.

“Huh?”

“Hmm?”

Ronan and Navirose’s eyes widened simultaneously. The torrent of Sword Qi, still extending straight, struck the wall behind them.

Kwaandkwaang!

A sudden deafening explosion grabbed the attention of all the students.

“Aaargh! What now?”

“Professor!”

Dust settled shortly. Part of the damaged wall was exposed. The thick wall, more than a meter in thickness, resembled a cliff that had weathered the waves for centuries. It was marred by numerous large and small holes and cracks, like spiderwebs.

“Oh no…”

It was a show of tremendous power. All the days of fighting with half-hearted efforts seemed unjust now. The mere thought that he could one day use such a technique made Ronan’s hands tremble.

But what was important now was not that. It seemed like the wall was on the verge of collapsing.

‘It’ll crumble with even a breeze, won’t it?’

Ronan was about to make that kind of joke when suddenly, a part of the wall that had been severely damaged collapsed.

“Ah.”

The students screamed. A refreshing breeze ruffled their hair. Beyond the collapsed wall lay a beautiful grassy field. Ronan and Navirose stood still for a long time, gazing at the sight.

Navirose spoke.

“It’s harder to control the power than I thought.”

“What do we do now?”

“We’ll have to fix it later. Can’t be helped.”

It’s fortunate that there are no adepts here. She sighed softly. Navirose handed Lamancha back to Ronan. As he received the hilt, the crimson glow on the sword spirit returned to its original black color.

“Damn.”

Ronan felt dirty all of a sudden. It was as if he had been passionately playing with someone else, only to have them turn cold when it came to him. Navirose spoke with a hint of irritation.

“Let’s get started already. I can’t stand it anymore.”

“Fine. Can’t I just learn how to use the sword Qi first?”

“Everything has its order. Don’t rush. If you follow the steps, you’ll become a qualified swordsman who can participate in the festival of sword.”

Ronan raised an eyebrow when he heard the term “Festival of Sword”. He had intended to ask about it but kept forgetting.

“That’s right. What exactly is the Festival of Sword? I heard something about it being related to the Sea Wave Sword Style.”

“Really? You didn’t know before coming here?”

“Before coming here, I was rolling around in some rural backwater.”

Navirose explained. The Festival of Sword was a kind of ritual and meeting where swordsmen from all over the continent gathered. Only those who had proven their skills could participate, and those who passed the ritual gained the right to challenge the exploration of the Holy Sword.

The Holy Sword was a legendary weapon said to be hidden somewhere in the sacred land of Parzan, where the Festival of Sword is held. The name “Holy Sword” is just a placeholder, as no one has ever seen its true form, and its exact nature remains a mystery.

However, due to the richness and diversity of legends that have evolved over the centuries, swordsmen from all around continue their relentless pursuit. Phrases like “I will reveal myself before the strongest swordsman,” or “The Holy Sword can conquer anything,” are the kind of ambitious declarations that drive both men and women mad. Ronan, too, seemed intrigued, nodding his head as if agreeing.

“It sounds interesting.”

“Even if it’s not the Holy Sword, it’s still a worthwhile event. The strongest swordsmen from different countries and wandering masters all gather there. Most of them are willing to engage in duels if you request it.”

“…Tell me honestly, How many people have you killed?”

“Altogether, about twenty, I guess. Not that many.”

Her tone was tinged with nostalgia as if reminiscing about beautiful memories. Ronan felt a shiver down his spine.

According to Jhordin, she had pierced a coconut shell with her pinky finger and drank from it.

‘As expected, I shouldn’t make things clear any time soon.’

He realized how pitifully low his mana reserves were, bound by this curse. It was evident how debilitated his own body was. Ronan sighed and gripped the hilt of the sword. Navirose proceeded to teach him how to infuse mana into the sword, as she had mentioned earlier.

The key was to transfer the mana within his body to the sword and hold it there. After a moment of concentration, a faint shimmer of light began to rise along the blade. Navirose nodded.

“Good. Maintain this for five minutes. After five minutes, swing the sword.”

“Five minutes? Isn’t that too short?”

“It may be for others. Then I’ll time it.”

“For others?”

What did she mean by that? Instead of answering, Navirose took out a pocket watch. Ronan snorted. In any case, he should be able to endure for about five minutes, even though the Sword Qi wasn’t much.

Just as he was having that thought, the light from the sword spirit faded away. Ronan furrowed his brows.

“Huh?”

“47 seconds.”

“Wait a minute. Why is it like this?”

“Don’t take it easy just because you’ve manifested the Sword Qi once. Concentrate and try again.”

Navirose reset the pocket watch as if she had anticipated this. Frustrated, Ronan adjusted his posture.

He had started feeling dizzy already, but he didn’t know what was happening. As he gripped the hilt of the sword, the shimmer of light rose along the blade once again.

****

“One minute and 23 seconds.”

“Damn!”

The light faded. Outside the building, the sun was setting. The destroyed wall was now painted crimson by the sinking sun.

“Crap…! Ugh, why does it keep going out?”

His head throbbed. Sweat was pouring down like rain. There were no other students left in the training arena after the class was over.

Ronan, who cursed under his breath, lowered the sword. He had lost count of how many attempts he had made. Navirose spoke.

“Let’s call it a day. Your mana control is the only issue. You’re already one of the strongest in the school. You should know that.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“So why are you rushing like this? You’re still a freshman, and there’s plenty of time.”

Ronan responded with a bitter twist of his lips. Normally, this training would take several months. It involved feeding mana into the sword, exhausting it, and then repeating the process to increase mana capacity.

But he didn’t have the luxury of time. To manipulate mana like everyone else, he would need to spend an absurdly long time—around twenty years—scratching it out of his veins. Ronan gripped the sword hilt to support himself as he stood up.

‘It’s not enough.’

He took a moment to catch his breath and then turned back to face the scarecrow. There was no sign of fatigue on the scarecrow’s body, which had to endure for five minutes.

‘This won’t do.’

He needed to come up with a new approach. Transferring mana from his body to the sword was fine, but holding it there was the problem. His meager mana reserves couldn’t handle the constant consumption of mana by the sword.

Nevertheless, drinking cold water seemed to cool his head a bit. That’s when it hit him.

‘Cooling down?’

A sudden, lightning-fast idea flashed through Ronan’s mind. The idea that started with cold water began to evolve in his mind.

Cooling down hot things. Heating up cold things. Draining excess. Filling deficiencies. Ronan finally arrived at a solution and burst into laughter as if he had discovered a miracle.

“Just use it up and fill it!”

Mana exercises always required a specific posture, but Ronan was too focused on conventional thinking. He vaguely remembered a warning not to change his posture while practicing, but he didn’t care. He took a deep breath and raised the corners of his lips.

“I can do this.”

It felt unfamiliar, but not impossible. Soon, a strange sound like “Suaaah” began to escape Ronan’s lips. He could feel mana leaving and being replenished at the same time.

“Hmm?”

Though more than two minutes had passed, the crimson glow on Lamancha’s sword didn’t fade. Navirose noticed that Ronan was simultaneously consuming mana and practicing, and she chuckled.

“Seems like you’ve discovered a way to do both.”

No visible or audible changes were happening around them. Only the sensation of mana circulating between the sword and his body remained. How much time had passed? Ronan snapped back to reality when he felt someone tap his shoulder.

“Professor?”

“…Time’s up.”

“What? Already?”

Subjectively, it didn’t feel like more than three minutes had passed. Navirose silently flipped the pocket watch and held it out in front of him. The clock, which had started at 12 o’clock, now pointed to 13 minutes past the hour. Ronan’s eyes widened.

“13 minutes…!”

“Now, while maintaining that feeling, swing the sword. You should be able to do it.”

Ronan nodded. There was no need to respond further. The sword and his hand disappeared from view.

Swish!

The sound of the sword cut through the air after a considerable amount of time had passed.. Navirose nodded in approval.

“Excellent.”

Creak!

Dozens of lines appeared on the scarecrow’s body. Ronan sheathed Lamancha, and the body of the scarecrow that had been torn to pieces collapsed.

“Heh.”

Ronan laughed triumphantly. It was a speed he had never experienced before, different from merely following the flow of mana. If he could maintain this state, there would be nothing he couldn’t cut. Navirose commented,

“Finally, you did it. Can you maintain that state in a real battle?”

“…For a few minutes.”

“That’s good enough. We’re done for today.”

Silence enveloped them. Neither of them spoke. Navirose was just turning to leave. Ronan, who had been standing still for a while, grabbed her by both shoulders and shouted, “Navirose!

“Fuck! Did you see that, Navirose?! Did you see what I did?”

“Yeah, you did well.”

“It’s all thanks to you! Come on, let’s go, Navirose. I’ll give you a piggyback ride and carry around Philleon!”

“It’s your achievement. And call me Professor.”

However, despite Navirose’s restraint, Ronan didn’t stop. His body was completely dominated by the belated sense of accomplishment. He didn’t stop laughing, even after he was grabbed by both ears as he lunged to pick Navirose up.

“Hey!.”

Seeing his comical behavior, Navirose couldn’t help but smile faintly. Just as she was reluctantly considering lifting him once, the ground near the collapsed wall suddenly began to tremble. An unexpected event occurred so quickly that they had no time to react.

The ground seemed to rise up as if something was filling in the collapsed hole. Without any gaps, it restored the wall, even the bas-relief that had originally been carved into it. Navirose frowned.

“This magic…”

“It’s been a while, Navirose.”

At that moment, a familiar voice came from behind. Ronan and Navirose both turned their heads simultaneously. A lean man stood bathed in the setting sun’s rays. Seeing his ominous appearance, Navirose furrowed her brow.

“Jhordin?”