Six Years Later

Spring of year 9997 of the Yulan Calendar, Ernst Academy.

The morning mist had yet to clear when faint sounds of something slicing through the air rose from the woods on the mountain behind the academy.

A figure darted through the trees at astonishing speed. His feet barely left a trace on the ground, each landing light as a feather. He pushed off tree trunks to change direction, like wind drifting through the forest.

This was the effect of a support spell of the wind element-"Gale Spell," which attached wind essence to the body to greatly increase speed. Yet even among Ernst Academy's senior students, few could wield it with such effortless control.

The figure suddenly stopped, landing firmly on a jutting rock.

He was a fifteen-year-old boy, a full meter eighty tall, wearing a gray training outfit washed almost white. His face had sharply defined features, with bold brows and bright eyes, and his long black hair was tied loosely behind his head.

An Baruch.

He stood on the rock, breathing a little heavily. In the woods behind him, Linley was still chasing after him, but had fallen at least fifty meters behind. Ever since six years ago, the brothers had trained their bodies on the mountain every morning. At first, their speeds had been evenly matched, but from the third year onward, An had gradually pulled ahead.

"Whew..." An exhaled, jumped down from the rock, and began stretching.

Six years of training had transformed his body. His once-small, thin frame had become tall and solid, every muscle clearly defined and brimming with explosive strength. Although his Dragonblood Warrior bloodline was not sufficiently concentrated, years of relentless exercise had still given him physical prowess far beyond that of ordinary mages.

He was at the peak of the fifth rank, only a step away from the sixth.

This was exceedingly rare among mages.

"An, you've gotten faster again." Linley emerged from the woods, his forehead covered in sweat. There was no dejection in his eyes, only renewed fighting spirit.

For six years, the brothers had pushed each other forward like this, each striving to catch up with the other.

An glanced at the sky. The sun had just risen above the mountain, and there was still an hour before morning classes. He walked to the rock wall, took a Flat Blade and a palm-sized stone from his backpack, and sat down cross-legged.

Stone carving.

This was another form of training An had practiced for six years. Unlike Linley, An did not have a Saint-level Magus like Grandpa Doehring to teach him the art of stone carving. He had taken up the art under Linley's influence.

That state of total concentration, of mind and matter becoming one, allowed spiritual energy to grow without his even noticing.

The Heaven Rewards Diligence System also rated stone-carving practice extremely highly-whenever he entered the "carving state," his rate of spiritual energy experience gain increased by three hundred percent. An treasured this discovery and had made stone carving part of his daily training ever since.

After six years, although he lacked Linley's extraordinary gift for stone carving, he had attained a solid level of skill.

The Flat Blade danced over the stone, sending chips flying.

An's gaze was fixed entirely on the stone, his breathing growing deep and even. The wind, the birdsong, and Linley's footsteps gradually faded from his awareness. He entered a strange state-his consciousness remained clear, yet he seemed to have left his body behind, with nothing remaining but the blade in his hand and the stone before him.

Every time he entered this state of minute perception, his spiritual energy underwent another tempering.

After an unknown stretch of time, the Flat Blade in An's hand stopped.

He looked down. The stone in his hand had become an eagle with its wings spread. Its lines were simple, yet it looked so lifelike that it seemed ready to take flight at any moment.

He put the carving away and stood up. Linley had also finished his morning training. He walked over to look at An's work, a flicker of surprise crossing his eyes. "An, you're improving quickly."

"Not as quickly as you." An shook his head.

"An, what rank have you reached as a mage?" Linley suddenly asked.

An fell silent for a moment, then said, "The peak of the sixth rank."

Linley looked astonished.

Every advance from the first rank to the sixth was extraordinarily difficult for a mage. The vast majority of mages could never break past the sixth rank in their entire lives, let alone reach such heights at fifteen.

"The peak of the sixth rank?" Linley murmured. "When did you break through?"

"Last winter," An said calmly.

What he did not say was that he was also only a step away from becoming a Level Seven Mage. Perhaps in a few more months, or perhaps half a year, he would reach the seventh rank.

A fifteen-year-old Level Seven Mage would have been a rarity even in the entire history of the Yulan Continent.

The two returned to the academy from the mountain.

As they walked along the tree-lined path, students occasionally cast glances at An and Linley.

The brothers crossed the training field side by side, while Yale and Reynolds approached from the dining hall.

Six years had passed, and all four residents of Dormitory 1987 had grown into youths. Yale was the tallest at a meter eighty-five, with a burly build and black hair hanging loosely around his shoulders. His every gesture carried the easy composure peculiar to children of noble families.

Reynolds was still the shortest, just over a meter sixty, with a tousled head of brown curls. But his strength was not to be underestimated-a fourth-rank mage at fifteen, his innate spiritual energy of thirty-two times the norm still made him outstanding among his peers. He only fell a little short when compared with monsters like An and Linley.

"Number Two, Number Three!" Yale waved from a distance. "Come on, the dining hall has something good today!"

"Boss, you think the dining hall has something good every day." Reynolds curled his lip.

"What do you know? Eating is one of life's great priorities," Yale said with a perfectly straight face.

The four entered the dining hall together and found seats by a window.

After breakfast, they each went to their own classes.

An's class schedule was rather different from the others'. The academy had arranged private instruction specifically for him-twice a week, a seventh-rank wind mage taught him one-on-one.

This was special treatment Ernst Academy reserved for its outstanding students.

His private lesson was that morning. An entered a small classroom, where his instructor was already waiting.

"An, sit down." His instructor was a woman in her forties named Vera, a seventh-rank wind mage. She was stern, but not unkind, and her gaze held undisguised admiration as she looked at him.

"Today, I'm going to teach you a fifth-rank wind spell-Wind Blade Dance," Vera said. "This is a multi-target attack spell that can unleash dozens of Wind Blades in an instant, covering a wide area. Although it isn't as powerful as a single-target attack spell, it's extremely useful in actual combat."

An listened attentively, committing every key point to memory.

After Vera finished explaining, An began trying to cast the spell.

He closed his eyes, sensing the wind essence around him.

"Wind Blade Dance!"

An opened his eyes and swept his right hand outward.

Dozens of visible Wind Blades flew from beside his hand, weaving a dense net in the air as they hurtled toward the target ahead. With a series of sharp hisses, the wooden target was sliced to pieces, sending splinters flying everywhere.

Vera's eyes widened.

"Forty-two Wind Blades on your very first attempt?" Vera's voice rose without her realizing it. "The theoretical limit for this spell is sixty-four. Most fifth-rank mages can only produce a dozen or so on their first attempt, but you..."

She shook her head, seemingly marveling at the gulf between their talents.

After the lesson, An returned to the dormitory and took out his book of wind magic notes, its edges already worn ragged from frequent use. He wrote down what he had learned that day.

Outside the window, the spring sunlight was just right.

An set down his pen and gazed into the distance.