Magnus Draykar didn't come from a powerful family. In fact, his family was rather unremarkable—a mediocre household from the North, with no significant achievements to their name. Their only notable advantage was that the previous Lord had been close friends with the former King of Windward, Arden Windward's grandfather.
Thanks to this connection, Magnus's family became a valuable vassal, despite having no members who had ever managed to surpass the Wall—the barrier that separated the truly powerful from the rest.
The King of Windward, hoping to strengthen the bond between the families, arranged for Magnus to befriend Arden. Though their talents were worlds apart—Arden far outshining Magnus in every way—they became close.
But Magnus wasn't content with being in Arden's shadow. He craved strength.
At first, it was a childish desire, a simple longing to be better. But that desire became something far more intense after his family was slaughtered in cold blood by jealous nobles. He witnessed firsthand how those same nobles, who had sneered and mocked his family, knelt in fear before Arden when he came to Magnus's rescue. They trembled at his mere presence.
Magnus hated it.
That moment lit a fire in him. He swore he would never be powerless again. At the age of 21, he left the North behind, determined to forge his own path. He traveled to the farthest corners of the world, training relentlessly. It was the beginning of the legend of the Martial King.
But Magnus didn't focus on his mana rank like so many others striving for power. No, he understood that the key to true strength wasn't just about mana. The reason most people couldn't break past the Wall and reach Ascendant-rank was because they fixated too much on increasing their mana reserves.
To ascend, one needed more than just mana. It required a perfect harmony between mana and the body, and a deeper enlightenment to undergo the first body metamorphosis.
So, Magnus began with the foundation of all martial arts—footwork. He started from the very basics, rebuilding himself from the ground up, preparing his body to transcend the limits that held so many back.
Magnus Draykar's footwork had become the stuff of legends—the most revered technique in the world, the very foundation that allowed him to surpass every Radiant-ranker alive and claim the position of Rank 1.
And now, he was watching that same footwork being used against him.
Without realizing it, Magnus grinned.
Arthur's version of Heaven's Descent Walk was far from perfect. It was sloppy, rough around the edges, especially when compared to his own flawless execution. But at the same time, it was impressive for Arthur's level—someone who had only just completed the first stage of Integration.
Magnus knew there was no way Arthur could pull off even this incomplete version of his footwork on his own. If Arthur possessed that level of skill naturally, his talent would be nothing short of monstrous. He would have already shattered the Wall that held so many back.
No, this was something else—his second Gift.
The realization made Magnus's grin widen. He had suspected Arthur possessed a second Gift after hearing about his victory over Drake, who had contracted with a demon. But seeing it firsthand, watching Arthur copy his footwork, was still beyond anything he had anticipated.
'The ability to copy, huh,' Magnus thought, his mind racing. A terrifyingly powerful Gift indeed—one that could elevate Arthur to unprecedented heights. If not for the fact that Lucifer had already completed the second stage of Integration, Arthur would easily have claimed Rank 1 in these mid-terms.
This only made Magnus more elated. The potential Arthur possessed was staggering, and the battles ahead were going to be even more thrilling. Arthur wasn't just another student—he was someone who could one day stand as his equal, perhaps even his successor.
But for now, this battle wasn't over. Magnus braced himself, ready to see just how far Arthur could push this newly awakened Gift.
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Magnus and I clashed again, our blades ringing out in the vast training arena. The tension in the air was palpable as I continued to push myself, drawing on every ounce of power I had. My footwork, borrowed through Soul Resonance, allowed me to keep pace with Magnus, but I could feel the strain. He was leagues ahead, and each passing second was a reminder of the vast gap between us.
He moved with an effortless grace, blocking and deflecting every attack I threw his way. It was as if he knew my every move before I even made it. But I kept pushing, my sword cutting through the air with precision, trying to find a gap in his defenses.
Despite my best efforts, Magnus was in control. He wasn't just reacting—he was teaching. Each block, each parry, felt more like a lesson than a fight. His grin never faded, and I could sense his pride, not in his superiority, but in my progress.
"You've improved," he said, his voice steady even as our swords met again. "But you're still too focused on power. You haven't yet found your true balance."
Before I could respond, Magnus shifted his stance, his footwork turning sharp, deliberate. In a blink, he was gone, reappearing behind me with a speed I could barely follow. I twisted, barely managing to block his strike, but the force behind it sent me skidding across the arena floor.
The gap between us was undeniable.
I wiped the sweat from my brow, trying to catch my breath. My body screamed at me to stop, but I couldn't give up now. Not when I had come this far.
I stood up straight, sword at the ready, and activated Lucent Harmony to its fullest extent, feeling the surge of power flood through me. This was my final card, my last chance to prove I could stand against him, even for a moment.
Magnus's eyes flickered with recognition, but he didn't move. He was waiting—waiting to see what I would do next.
I stepped forward, launching myself at him with everything I had. My movements were faster, sharper, more precise. I felt the energy coursing through me, my mind fully focused on the task at hand. I closed the distance between us, swinging my sword with a precision I had never reached before.
But Magnus was ready.
With a single, fluid motion, he sidestepped my attack, and before I could react, his sword was at my throat. He didn't strike, but the message was clear.
It was over.
Breathing heavily, I stood frozen, the tip of his blade lightly grazing my skin. I had given everything, and it still wasn't enough.
Magnus lowered his sword and stepped back, his expression calm but approving. "You've done well, Arthur. But you're still not there yet."
I nodded, swallowing my frustration. The fight was over, and while I hadn't won, I had learned more in this battle than I could have imagined.
He sheathed his sword, his eyes softening. "There's no shame in this. You're progressing faster than most could ever dream of. But remember, strength isn't just about raw power. It's about understanding your limits, refining your techniques, and mastering your own path."
With that, he turned and began walking away, his voice drifting back to me. "We'll continue training, but for now, rest. You've earned it."
I stood there, sword still in hand, watching him leave the arena. I hadn't won the fight, but in a way, it didn't matter. This wasn't just a test of strength—it was a lesson. And I knew, more than ever, that my journey was far from over.
I sheathed my sword, feeling the weight of the battle lift from my shoulders. There was still much to learn, much to improve. But for the first time, I felt like I was truly on the path to becoming someone worthy of my master's teaching.