A Lesson in the Basics

"Let's see... I have a spare sword, but it's only a second-grade one," Casial said, rummaging through his belongings.

"It's fine," Aqua replied calmly, his focus unwavering.

The clock struck 7:50. Realizing the time, they hurriedly left their room, rushing down the dormitory stairs. The morning sunlight streamed through the arched windows, casting long shadows on the polished stone floors as they dashed toward the training grounds.

They arrived just in time. A small crowd of students, all first-years who had chosen swordsmanship, waited with varying degrees of patience for their instructor. The training grounds were vast, bordered by neatly trimmed hedges and dotted with wooden dummies and racks of training weapons. The air smelled faintly of dewy grass and freshly polished steel.

Aqua and Casial noticed a group of students off to one side, their demeanor noticeably hostile. At the head of the group stood Jonathan Wisearian, a haughty figure with an air of arrogance. One of his lackeys smirked and said loudly, "Some people don't even have the manners to wake up on time, making their roommates late because of them." His tone dripped with mockery, the jab clearly directed at Aqua.

Aqua's expression remained gentle, unperturbed by the obvious taunt. Instead, he turned to Casial with a calm look. Casial, catching on, smiled playfully and said in a voice loud enough for the group to hear, "I'm sorry, Aqua. Because of me, you were almost late for class." His words carried exaggerated sincerity, cutting through the tension like a blade.

The mocking student's smirk faltered, his cheeks reddening in frustration. Not only had his attempt to ridicule Aqua failed, but he had also unintentionally insulted the prince, Casial Arsia. Jonathan's group fell silent, their hostility momentarily subdued.

Before the situation could escalate, a man in his early thirties entered the training grounds. He exuded a quiet confidence, though his appearance was unassuming—brown hair, yellow eyes, and a face that could be described as average. Despite this, the aura of a seasoned warrior surrounded him. He was Lucas, the first-year swordsmanship instructor and a seventh-circle mana heart swordsman. His posture was relaxed, but his presence commanded attention.

"Good morning, everyone," Lucas greeted enthusiastically. "I'm Lucas, your swordsmanship instructor. I'll be teaching you the basics of swordsmanship."

The class collectively sighed, murmurs of discontent rippling through the group. Many students—especially the nobles—considered themselves well-versed in the basics and saw no need to revisit them. However, Aqua remained calm, his expression thoughtful, while Casial appeared genuinely excited.

Lucas's yellow eyes scanned the group knowingly. "You may think you already know the basics," he said, his voice firm yet approachable. "But the truth is, most of you don't."

A few students bristled at the remark, their protests bubbling up in murmurs, though they stopped short of openly challenging him. Aqua, as always, observed in silence, and Casial's excitement only grew, his enthusiasm undiminished.