Chapter 8: Never Fear Your Enemies

I became a Novice Knight…

Adam slowly clenched his fists, feeling the mana flow through his body like a newly released torrent.

He couldn’t help but frown.

That… easy?

No.

He knew it hadn’t been.

For weeks, he had pushed his body to the limit, breaking it down and rebuilding it again and again. He had felt the pain, the extreme fatigue, and the constant pressure of daily missions.

All to achieve a single goal: to prepare his body for the mana.

Because becoming a Novice Knight was not simply a matter of talent.

First, the body had to be strong enough to withstand the flow of mana.

Without that foundation, attempting to access it was practically suicidal. That is why, in the kingdom, most people reached that rank around the age of twenty, after years of physical training.

But it wasn’t the same for wizards; for them, it was different, very different from what it was for knights.

Throughout the kingdom’s history, the youngest knight had been a legendary figure for more than three centuries: the founder of the kingdom of Revoun, the First King George Augustus of Revoun, who had awakened his mana at the age of eighteen.

And now, Adam had overcome it.

The training ground was utterly silent.

The knights nearby could clearly sense the fluctuations of mana in the air. It wasn’t violent, but it was unmistakable. A subtle, constant pressure that made the skin tingle.

“That flow of mana…” murmured one of them, his eyes wide open. “There’s no doubt about it.”

“Are you feeling it too?” asked another, swallowing hard. “That boy… he’s become a Novice Knight.”

“Before the age of twenty…?” An incredulous laugh escaped someone. “This is crazy.”

Just then, an imposing figure appeared at the edge of the training ground.

Zephyr Hall strode forward, accompanied by two people: a knight in black armor who radiated a sharp presence, and a man wrapped in a white robe, from whom emanated a refined and profound mana.

“Why all the commotion?” Zephyr asked, curious.

The knights immediately stood at attention.

“My lord,” one of them replied, his voice still thick with disbelief. “Young Master Adam… has become a Novice knight.”

Zephyr stood motionless, his eyes fixed on his son. He needed no confirmation. As a high-ranking knight, he could sense it with absolute clarity.

Adam’s mana flowed steadily.

A heavy silence fell over the place.

“I see, so my son became a novice knight,” Zephyr’s smile began to grow dangerously. “Well, it’s time to test my dear son’s progress.”

“Ugh.” A bitter expression formed on Adam’s face. He had forgotten that his father was a battle maniac.

However, he also wanted to test himself now that he could manipulate mana. With a smile on his face, he picked up a wooden sword and looked at his father.

“Good, good… that’s the attitude of someone who carries my blood.”

The training ground fell into expectant silence.

Zephyr took a wooden sword from the nearby rack and held it with one hand, relaxed, as if it were a toy. He didn’t release his mana; he didn’t even adopt a formal stance.

“Don’t hold back,” he said with a dangerous smile. “Show me how well your mana awakened.”

Adam tightened his fingers around the hilt.

He inhaled slowly and let the mana flow through his body. He didn’t force it; he guided it. He felt it spread through his muscles, strengthening them from within, making them lighter and more precise.

His stance changed.

The knights around him noticed it immediately.

“Is that… a basic stance?” someone murmured. “He’s not wasting mana.”

Adam took the first step.

Clack!

The swords clashed, but Zephyr didn’t budge an inch. Adam felt a solid, steady force, like hitting a wall.

However, he didn’t back down.

He twisted his wrist and channeled a thin layer of mana into the blade, reducing friction right at the point of impact. The sword slid and sought the side.

Zephyr raised an eyebrow.

He blocked with a minimal movement, twisting his own sword at the last moment. The clash was sharp, precise.

Zephyr advanced.

Each step seemed to close the space, leaving no option for escape. Adam felt the pressure, not like an explosion of mana, but like a deep tide enveloping him.

Adam stepped back. He adjusted his breathing and focused the mana in his legs.

Bang!

The floor creaked as he lunged to the side, twisted his body, and slashed upward. He wasn’t aiming for Zephyr; he was aiming to break his rhythm.

The sword passed dangerously close to his father’s chest.

The spectators gasped.

Adam didn’t give him time.

He landed a second blow, this time reinforcing only his right arm with mana, keeping the rest of his body stable so as not to lose his balance.

Zephyr blocked… but this time the impact was different.

He felt the pressure.

“Hoh.”

His smile widened. Zephyr spun around and counterattacked.

Adam could barely react. He felt the blow travel through his sword, his arm, his shoulder. If he hadn’t reinforced his body with mana, he would have been sent flying.

He took several steps back, panting.

“Not bad,” said Zephyr. “Your talent for fencing… is excellent.”

Then, for the first time, he released a small fraction of his mana.

The air vibrated.

The knights felt the pressure double.

Adam opened his eyes, and a big smile spread across his lips.

This is… another level.

Zephyr advanced again, but this time Adam did not retreat. He gritted his teeth and let the mana flow more freely, not to increase his strength, but to feel.

Every movement. Every intention. Every opening.

Their swords clashed one last time.

CLACK!

Adam was pushed backward, but he didn’t fall. His feet slid until they came to a stop at the edge of the field.

Silence.

Zephyr lowered his sword and let out a satisfied laugh.

“Good. Very good, Adam.”

He walked over and placed a hand on his son’s shoulder.

“I can’t imagine your future.”

Adam was breathing heavily, but he smiled.

“I just hope you don’t get rusty.”

“Hahaha, that’s the spirit.” Zephyr brushes Adam’s hair aside and says with a serious expression.

“Engrave these words in your mind. Never fear your enemies.”

Adam nodded; he had never heard these words from his father before.

“Do what you believe is right; it doesn’t matter if you’re wrong.”

“Yes.”

Then Zephyr’s expression became extremely dangerous, as a thick murderous aura escaped from his body.

“Engrave fear into the flesh of your enemies. Let them tremble when they see you raise your sword, and let their last sensation be terror.”

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