LXenon

In the land of Aetheria, strength is everything. The great warrior families—Argenthelm, Dravenmoor, and Varkos, and vaelor—rule with the might of their swords, their names etched in history as the strongest knights to ever live.  

Born into the prestigious Argenthelm family, Rael was expected to follow in their footsteps, to master the sacred sword techniques and awaken the power that runs through his bloodline. But no matter how hard he trained, no matter how many battles he endured, he could never grasp the essence of sword aura.  

To his father, to his brothers, and to the world, he was a failure.  

On his sixteenth birthday, Rael is cast out, forced to undergo the Trial of Kings—a cruel test that has claimed the lives of countless unworthy heirs. Alone, with nothing but a dagger in hand, he is thrown into the deadly wilds of Aetheria, where monsters, mercenaries, and rival warriors lurk in the shadows.  

But Rael is not like the others. He does not rely on brute force. He does not wield an unstoppable blade.  

he THINKS. He ADAPTS.He SURVIVES.

And if the world refuses to acknowledge him as a knight—then he will carve his name into history another way.

The survival of the weakest knight

Morning came swiftly. The academy's bells tolled across the vast campus, signaling the beginning of training.

Rael rose from his cot, every muscle in his body aching from yesterday's battle. He had felt pain before—beatings from noble brats, harsh training under the Black Hounds, the sting of a blade biting into his skin. But this was different.

He was now surrounded by real warriors.

As he stepped out of the dormitory, the crisp morning air did little to ease the tension in his limbs. The training grounds were already alive with students warming up—some running drills, others sharpening their swordplay.

And outsiders had to work twice as hard to survive.

The Argent Division gathered in a massive courtyard, its floor covered in fine sand. Instructor Kael Dravenmoor stood before them, arms crossed, eyes scanning the recruits like a predator measuring its prey.

"Before you wield a sword, you must first understand it," Kael began. "You must become part of the blade. Those who cannot… will shatter."

His voice carried no exaggeration, no hint of mercy.

The students moved toward the weapon racks, each selecting a blade that suited them. Rael reached for a standard longsword, its weight familiar in his grip.

But when he turned, he noticed something.

The other students already carried their weapons with natural ease.

They had spent years training. Their stances were fluid, their grips firm.

Rael tightened his hold on the sword. He had trained under mercenaries, learned to survive in brawls. But these nobles? They had been taught to master the blade from birth.

Kael paced before them. "We will begin with basic forms. Show me what you know."

The students moved in unison, executing flawless slashes and thrusts. Even the weakest among them had polished technique.

Rael followed the motions, but he felt it—his movements were rough, his footing unstable. He wasn't fighting on instinct now. He was trying to fit into their mold.

Kael's gaze landed on him. A flicker of disappointment crossed his face.

"Rael Venn," he called. "Step forward."

The students turned, watching with interest. Some whispered, recognizing him from the combat trial.

Rael exhaled. He couldn't hesitate.

He lunged forward with a downward slash.

Kael barely moved. With a simple shift of his wrist, he deflected Rael's strike, sending him stumbling.

Rael adjusted his stance and struck with a horizontal cut.

Kael sidestepped effortlessly, tapping Rael's wrist with the flat of his blade.

"Your form is sloppy. Your balance is weak." Kael's voice was steady, but edged with finality. "You fight like a wild dog, not a swordsman."

Rael clenched his jaw. He had fought to survive all his life, had taken down opponents far stronger than himself. But here… his strength meant nothing.

Kael turned to the rest of the class. "This is what happens when you lack discipline. Unrefined power is useless without control."

"You will start from the beginning. Until you can master the basics, you will not move forward."

Silence fell over the training grounds.

Rael nodded, swallowing the bitter taste of humiliation.

If he had to start from nothing—then he would.

Because he had no intention of staying at the bottom.

Failure Once Again