novelraw Chapter 6
Chapter 6
Chapter 6
Having completed all of the day's training and returned to the dormitory, Feyr immediately closed his eyes and settled into his meditative posture.
Then he began to operate his two scale-covered rings at full capacity.
The flow of Mana spreading throughout his entire body.
Feyr was controlling it, steadily growing his Mana further.
'At this rate, I'll reach the 3rd Star in a month.'
Up to the 2nd Star had come quickly.
Exceptionally so, at that.
And it wasn't only the speed.
'How did it end up carrying an attribute?'
The cultivation method Feyr had refined for the Lunar Eclipse Training Ground—the Last Night of Winter Cultivation Method—was an attribute-less, Void-attribute cultivation method.
And yet the Mana flowing through Feyr now carried an attribute.
A deeply concentrated Blood attribute, at that.
'Is this also the Dragon Jade's influence?'
Not only had something scale-like come to cover the rings—an attribute had been conferred on top of that.
Just what in the world had he swallowed?
With those thoughts, he returned to his Mana cultivation.
Forming the third ring required a considerable amount of Mana.
That meant time was an inevitable cost.
But for Feyr, it posed no great problem.
'About a month.'
He judged that timeframe more than sufficient.
'The Basilisk's blood, the Dragon Jade's energy, and experience.'
With those three, a month would be enough.
Even the most talented individuals needed three months—but Feyr had already reached the Sword Master tier once before.
A path he had walked before—how could it be difficult?
'Truthfully, if I focused solely on Mana cultivation, I could cut that time in half.'
But he could not afford to do that.
Reaching the 3rd Star was important—but building his physical capabilities was no less so.
Which was why, for now, his plan was to participate in training and temper his body.
'I reached the 2nd Star faster than anyone else, so I should spend the remaining time focusing on physical conditioning.'
No matter how high one's Mana Star Tier climbed, it was all for nothing if the body to support it was frail.
To know this and not act on it would be wasteful.
Feyr understood this far too well—which was precisely why he had placed Mana cultivation as a secondary concern.
'Still—at least three hours of Mana cultivation a day.'
Mana did not accumulate simply by sitting still.
It only built up through steady, consistent cultivation.
'Time to focus now.'
Thinking so, Feyr cleared his mind and immersed himself in Mana cultivation.
***
One month later.
Throughout that time, Feyr had devoted his days to physical training and his nights to Mana cultivation.
The result.
He had reached the state needed to forge the third ring—and the moment he confirmed it, he closed his eyes and settled into his meditative posture.
Haaaa—
Feyr drew fresh air deep into his lungs and began to concentrate on the dense Mana flowing through his body.
The thick, concentrated Mana gathered toward the entrance of his heart and was steadily being shaped into the form of a ring.
But only for a moment.
Brrrrr—!
The Mana Rings trembled as the third ring began to take shape.
And then—
'Hmm?'
Something felt off.
The Mana Ring had stopped forming partway—and the Mana had begun to converge toward the very core of his heart.
Feyr, straining to suppress the runaway Mana, began to wrestle it under control.
Woooooom—!
The Mana Rings shaking as if in a frenzy, and a tremendous power that looked ready to burst forth at any moment.
When those two forces converged, something began to take shape—drawn as if by a brush—the first Circle.
'A Circle, of all things……'
The 1st Circle, formed in the same instant as the third ring was drawn.
This was something even Feyr had never experienced before.
He had never once heard of a Circle being drawn in the midst of forming Mana Rings.
Something entirely new had come into existence.
'This is my first time forming a Circle……'
The Circle bore a deep, blood-red hue befitting the Blood attribute.
Moreover, the Circle had taken the shape of a crimson dragon—and around it, three rings drifted and floated.
He had risen to the 3rd Star, reaching the Upper Sword User tier—yet simultaneously, he had become a 1st Circle Mage.
'At this point, it's practically the same as becoming a complete Magic Swordsman.'
Feyr thought so, and brought forth a dark crimson Aura at the tips of his fingers.
Ordinarily, a blue Aura should have manifested—but because Feyr's Mana attribute had changed, it was a dark crimson Aura that emerged.
'In any case—it's faint, but from now on I'll be able to use Aura.'
Normally, a feat only possible from the 4th Star onward.
And yet Feyr was achieving it at the 3rd Star.
The 1st Circle existed alongside it—but since it operated through Mana force rather than Mana, it was of no practical use for the time being.
'Mana force isn't something I need right now, and the gap between the 3rd and 4th Star comes down to sheer volume of Mana.'
That gap was immense, which was why others called it impossible.
If one could only control the volume of Mana being released, the 3rd Star could achieve it well enough.
It was simply that achieving that precise control was at a nigh-impossible level of difficulty—which was why no one else could manage it.
'Even I couldn't do it when I reached the 3rd Star in my past life.'
When he had become a Sword User in his previous life, he had not known the first thing about controlling the volume of Mana output.
It was only possible now because he had accumulated experience—but back then, he hadn't even known whether he had any talent at all.
'Thinking about my past life, it's clear just how overwhelmingly faster the progress in this life has been.'
The moment Feyr was thinking those thoughts, the morning bell began to ring out.
Ding! Ding!
'Morning already.'
He had been so absorbed in forging the third ring that he had spent the entire night without sleep.
But what did that matter?
He had achieved the 3rd Star—that was all that counted.
'Plus the 1st Circle on top of that.'
Feyr felt the satisfaction of his accomplishment and made his way to the training ground.
The training ground already had trainees lined up in rows, same as always.
'Though there is one difference.'
Over the course of a month, they had fully adapted to this place. Unlike the first day, there was a sharp sense of discipline about them.
Zak, standing on the platform above, looked over them and nodded with a satisfied air.
This was the kind of atmosphere he had envisioned as proper.
In the composed silence, Zak opened his mouth.
"The maggots are starting to look somewhat presentable."
In Zak's eyes, they had finally risen from the level of slaves to something resembling trainees.
Even so, it wasn't quite enough to satisfy him yet.
Then Zak suddenly put a question to the trainees.
"Do you lot believe you've grown?"
"Yes! We have!"
The trainees answered without hesitation.
It was true that they had improved considerably compared to when they first arrived.
Feyr, knowing as much, thought the same.
'Trained like madmen for an entire month—it would be strange if there was no progress.'
Zak curled the corner of his mouth upward and continued.
"Then it would seem you can now prove your worth."
At the word prove, the trainees' faces fell all at once.
The only reason Zak would say such a thing had to be the evaluation exam he had mentioned before.
As the trainees pressed their mouths shut, Zak narrowed his brow and clicked his tongue.
"Tsk—still haven't shed that spinelessness, you maggots!"
"N-No, sir!"
"What did I say?"
At Zak's shout, the trainees cried out as if swallowing something bitter.
"Fail to prove it, and there is only death!"
"That's right."
At the trainees' cry, Zak smiled—a sharp, humorless smile—and said.
"Follow me."
Where exactly were they being led?
The trainees, who moments ago had been shouting until their voices nearly gave out, only grew more grim.
At Zak's word, the instructors fell in behind him, herding the trainees along.
"Get in line!"
"Move it, move it!"
How long had they walked?
The trainees, watched Zak's back with shadowed expressions.
For the first time, they left the training ground behind and arrived at a nameless mountain.
Even though it was morning, the entrance was dark as night.
At length, Zak mounted a prepared platform and spoke.
"The evaluation exam will now begin!"
In that instant, a small stir rippled through the trainees.
Even accounting for the exam being irregular, to spring it on them so suddenly, with no warning at all.
But they could not let any sound of fear escape them.
To do so would mean instant death.
While the trainees were forcibly burying their dread, Feyr alone wore an expression of calm familiarity.
He had come to this place many times in his past life.
He already knew everything there was to know about this mountain and this exam.
'The first exam—it was definitely the token search, wasn't it.'
From his past life's memory, the first exam was to enter the mountain, find the hidden tokens, and return.
Nothing more—just enter the mountain and retrieve the tokens.
On the surface, it resembled a treasure hunt—but the reality was different.
This mountain was teeming with magical beasts, and the trainees had to navigate past them to find the tokens.
'In truth, surviving is the main objective.'
Feyr recalled the exam's contents, thought about its purpose, and gave a slow nod.
At the same moment, Zak opened his mouth.
"What you will prove in this exam is your ability to survive."
Prove your ability to survive?
At those words, the trainees' eyes went wide.
What exactly did Zak mean by survival ability?
It was something quite straightforward.
'Judgment, discernment, and physical endurance.'
Zak called those three things, taken together, survival ability.
Of course, since he gave no indication of that, the other trainees would struggle.
Feyr knew exactly what survival ability meant.
Because he had once graduated from the trainee rank and worked under Zak as an instructor.
Feyr then gazed calmly at the mountain and thought.
'He certainly picked a fine testing ground.'
Mount Levelheim.
A mountain situated at the southernmost edge—the mountain that forms the boundary dividing the Empire from the untamed frontier, the place that would later come to be called the Demon Realm.
Being the dividing line between two territories, it held a considerable number of magical beasts, and the danger they posed was equally considerable.
Then how in the world had such a mountain come to be used as a testing ground?
'The answer is simple.'
Because Mount Levelheim was within the territory of Beilhart—the sovereign of the South.
Beilhart was one of the most influential houses in the Empire, and so its operations were subject to virtually no outside interference.
That was why this mountain had, over a long span of time, become the family's training ground and testing ground.
Feyr let out a brief sigh—and at that moment, Zak began to explain the exam's contents.
"You lot will now enter the mountain, hunt magical beasts, and retrieve the family's tokens."
Hunt magical beasts and retrieve the family's tokens.
Zak had specifically emphasized the point about hunting—not evading—magical beasts.
Not to flee, but to hunt.
The trainees' faces filled with unease.
'He's not saying hunt for nothing.'
That there were bonus points for bringing back magical beasts—that had to be the intent behind those words.
But even if one caught on to that, it meant nothing without the ability to actually hunt them.
"The family's token bears the crest of a sword piercing a dragon's mouth."
The crest was displayed prominently in the training ground itself—there was no chance the trainees wouldn't recognize it.
"The time limit is half a day. Within that time, each of you is to retrieve one token and return here. Any questions?"
Zak, having finished laying out all the exam details, scanned the trainees.
At the question of whether there were questions, one trainee raised their hand nervously.
Zak spotted the hand and spoke.
"What?"
"W-What happens if we fail to bring back a token?"
At the trainee's question, Zak stared back as if wondering why they were asking something so obvious.
"Immediate execution, naturally."
At Zak's cold reply, the atmosphere froze over once more.
In the bleak silence, Zak continued.
"Furthermore, leaving the mountain also means execution. And failing to return within the time limit means execution as well."
Either way, retrieving the token was the one and only path to survival.
The trainees, as if finally grasping the reality of the situation, swallowed drily.
Feyr, who had been quietly listening to Zak's words, clicked his tongue as if he couldn't believe it.
'And yet there are only enough tokens for half of them.'
The total number of tokens on Mount Levelheim was just over fifty.
And the current number of trainees was exactly one hundred.
In other words—only half of them could pass.
In the end, the structure was one where, in order to survive, someone else had to fall and die in their place.
Zak wrapped up his explanation.
"That is all. If you understand, move out!"
When Zak finished speaking, the instructors shouted at the trainees standing still—and at their roar, everyone snapped back to their senses.
Before long, the trainees, glancing warily at one another, all plunged into the mountain.
Feyr slipped in among them and moved with the group.
By the time he was out of the instructors' line of sight, Feyr broke away from the trainees and slipped off down a side path.
'No need to travel with them.'
Moving alongside them would mean he couldn't act freely.
Which was why Feyr intended to break away from the group and operate on his own.
'First—I'll find a token.'
Feyr climbed what could barely be called a mountain path, scanning his surroundings.
The mountain was vast—and the tokens were spread far and wide to match.
Which meant finding a token was difficult—but turned on its head, that also meant—
'Even in a secluded spot like this, there's bound to be at least one.'
And Feyr was the most seasoned veteran among all the assassins who had endured this place.
Finding a single token in a mountain like this was no trouble at all.
And shortly after—
'Found one.'
Feyr located a token hidden beneath the roots of a tree.
A lifetime of living as an assassin had sharpened his senses—which was why he had found it with ease.
But just then—
팽!
An ominous sound rang out, and arrows came flying.
Feyr sidestepped them lightly and thought.
'Ah, right.'
This mountain was riddled with traps.
He had forgotten that fact entirely.
Along with the fact that the hidden traps numbered overwhelmingly many.
Hummmm—!
Immediately, a magic formation materialized at the spot where Feyr had picked up the token.
And moments later—
Fwoooosh!
It erupted in a roar of searing flame and vanished.
This place was thick with magical beasts—and the traps were no less numerous.
All of it arranged purely for the sake of training.
'Which is why judgment and discernment are necessary.'
Feyr tucked the token into his breast pocket.
Then he tilted his head back and looked up at the mountain's peak.
'There are plenty of magical beasts here, to be sure.'
But would there not be one that stood above the rest?
The lord of Mount Levelheim.
What Feyr had in his sights was its head.