The gates of the Veridian estate stood open like a wound.
Kael stepped into the courtyard and felt it immediately — the pressure. Not just from the enemy clan waiting across the plaza, but from his own people. Hundreds of eyes pressed against his back.
Watching.
Judging.
Waiting for him to fail again.
The Draeven clan stood in a perfect line, black cloaks unmoving in the wind. Their leader smiled like a man attending theater.
"So the crippled heir arrives," he said lightly.
The word crippled cut through the air.
Kael's fingers twitched.
His mother's aura flared, killing intent spilling for a heartbeat. Stone beneath her feet cracked.
"Choose your next words carefully," Lady Seris said.
The man only chuckled. "Then let tradition speak for me. My son will represent House Draeven."
Darius stepped forward.
The courtyard seemed to shrink around him.
His presence wasn't loud — it was dense. Like standing in deep water. Even breathing felt heavier near him. His sword remained sheathed, yet the edge of his intent scraped across Kael's skin.
A predator measuring prey.
"You should withdraw," Darius said quietly. "I don't enjoy breaking things that are already broken."
A memory flashed.
Hospital lights.
Doctors whispering.
He won't walk normally again.
The old life.
The weak body.
The helplessness.
Kael stepped into the dueling circle.
"I already died once," he said calmly. "You'll have to do better."
The air snapped tight.
The duel began.
Darius moved first.
No warning.
No shout.
Just motion.
His blade tore free in a silver arc aimed to split Kael from shoulder to hip. It was fast — faster than the eye should track.
Kael didn't retreat.
The Absolute Foundation surged through his muscles.
He stepped forward.
The blade screamed past his back, close enough to cut a strand of hair. Gasps exploded from the watching disciples. Entering an opponent's killing range was suicide.
Unless you understood the strike.
Kael's sword flicked up.
CLANG.
The impact rang sharp and clean.
Darius' wrist jolted.
Not from strength.
From precision.
Kael had struck the weakest point in the swing — the exact moment the force transitioned. A perfect interruption.
Darius' eyes widened.
He attacked again, faster. A storm of steel crashed down: thrust, slash, reverse cut, elbow strike. Brutal. Efficient. Designed to overwhelm.
Kael's world narrowed.
Not to the enemy.
To lines.
Angles.
Openings.
The system's comprehension boost burned bright. Every motion Darius made unfolded like a diagram. Kael slipped through the storm, his feet gliding across stone, his blade answering only when necessary.
Each clash rang like a hammer on an anvil.
Each block shaved energy away from Darius.
The watching elders leaned forward in disbelief.
"That footwork…"
"He's dismantling the rhythm…"
Darius snarled and unleashed his aura.
The courtyard shook.
Stone cracked outward from his stance as crimson energy wrapped his sword. This wasn't a duel anymore — it was a declaration of dominance.
He swung.
The strike carried enough force to split the platform in half.
Kael didn't dodge.
He inhaled.
And trusted the foundation.
He stepped inside the arc.
The world slowed to a heartbeat.
He saw the micro-tremor in Darius' shoulder.
The overcommitment.
The arrogance.
Kael's blade moved like a whisper.
A single upward cut.
Not strong.
Perfect.
Darius' sword shattered from his grip.
Steel spun through the air.
Silence followed.
Darius stumbled forward, momentum carrying him helplessly. Kael's blade stopped a breath from his throat. A single drop of blood rolled down the edge.
The Draeven heir trembled.
Not from pain.
From understanding.
He had been read.
Completely.
The courtyard was dead quiet.
Even the wind refused to speak.
Kael could feel Darius' pulse against his blade. One flick and tradition would be satisfied. The enemy heir would fall. The Veridian name would roar.
The system pulsed.
Kael lowered his sword.
"You're strong," he said. "But strength without control is noise."
Darius stared at him like the world had tilted.
Kael turned his back — the ultimate insult in a duel.
And walked away.
The explosion of sound behind him was deafening. Veridian disciples screamed his name. Elders laughed in disbelief. Some of the Draeven clan looked ready to draw blades in rage.
Their leader raised a hand.
And stopped them.
His eyes never left Kael.
"…we're leaving," he said quietly.
No threat.
No pride.
Only calculation.
That was worse.
The gates slammed shut behind them.
The system chimed.
Quest Complete
Heaven-Grade Sword Body: 1% Unlocked
Power unfurled inside Kael like a second heartbeat.
For a fraction of a second, the air bent around him.
Reality acknowledged him.
His mother grabbed his shoulders, eyes shining with something between fear and awe.
"Kael," she whispered. "What did you awaken?"
He looked at his hands.
At the trembling space around his fingers.
And smiled.
"I'm just getting started."
Above the estate, clouds twisted into the shape of a blade.
Something ancient stirred.
And it was looking directly at him.