The sun rose over the Bastion of Mourning not as a golden orb of hope, but as a pale, sickly disc struggling against the permanent grey haze that characterized the borderlands of Oros. The light was weak, filtering through the thick mountain mist and casting long, distorted shadows across the courtyard where the Valerius guards were already beginning their morning drills.
Cian Valerius returned to his private chambers long before the first bell of the morning guard shift. He moved through the familiar stone corridors with a silent grace that felt entirely foreign to his young, sixteen year old frame. His body was washed clean of the Shadow Stalker's ink like blood, and his stained clothes had been reduced to ash in the small hearth of his room. He felt fundamentally changed. The world no longer appeared as a chaotic mess of sensory input. Instead, it felt like a complex machine that he finally possessed the manual to understand.
Every footstep he took resonated with a new kind of power. Deep within his chest, his two soul cores pulsed in a rhythmic, binary harmony. The primary core, his human heart core, glowed with the silver radiance of the Supreme rank breathing technique he had mastered in the library. Orbiting it was the smaller, denser core of the Monster Class, a dark violet spark that anchored his physical strength and accelerated his natural healing. Together, they formed a foundation that was already decades ahead of anyone his age.
As he dressed in a simple, high collared noble's tunic, Cian checked his status one last time.
[Current Rank: Awakened (Level 1).]
[Current Class: Monster (2 Cores).]
[Mana Density: 145% of standard Awakened Rank.]
He left his room and began the walk toward the Great Hall for the morning meal. As he descended the spiral staircase, he noticed the atmosphere in the Bastion had shifted overnight. The soldiers looked more tense than usual, their hands lingering on the hilts of their weapons as they whispered in the shadows of the alcoves. The servants moved with a frantic, nervous energy, avoiding eye contact with any of the noble guests who had stayed over after the ceremony.
"Young Master!"
A voice hissed from behind a tapestry near the armory. Kael stepped out, looking significantly paler than he had the day before. The guard's eyes were darting back and forth, checking for eavesdroppers.
"Kael, you look like you've seen a ghost," Cian said, his voice possessing a new, resonant depth that caused the guard to blink in surprise.
"You shouldn't go into the Great Hall, Cian," Kael whispered, ignoring the change in his young master's tone. "Lord Julian Blackwood is there. He has been drinking since dawn, and he is in a foul mood. He is making a scene in front of your father and the Imperial Overseer."
Cian's eyes narrowed. Julian Blackwood. The name was a bitter pill in his memory. The Blackwoods were a vassal house that had grown wealthy and arrogant on the bribes provided by the Silverian Hegemony. In the first life, Julian had been Cian's primary tormentor. A man with Heroic talent and Master rank strength, Julian had spent years mocking Cian's physical weakness. When the Hegemony finally betrayed House Valerius, Julian was one of the first to join the Inquisitors, laughing as he put the Valerius library to the torch.
"Why is he making a scene, Kael?" Cian asked, his expression remaining perfectly calm.
"He is challenging the validity of your ceremony yesterday," Kael explained, his voice trembling. "He claims the Aptitude Stone was sabotaged. He is telling everyone that you used a hidden mana catalyst to trick the Stone into glowing, and that a 'Scholar soul' could never possess such power. He is demanding a duel of 'Aptitude' before the Overseer leaves for the capital."
A cold, predatory smile touched Cian's lips. It was an expression that looked entirely out of place on such a youthful face. "A duel? How remarkably convenient of him to offer me a stage."
"Cian, you don't understand," Kael said, reaching out to grab his arm. "Julian is an Awakened warrior of the fifth level. He has been training with the Hegemony's elite instructors. He will kill you, or worse, he will cripple you to prove a point."
Cian gently removed Kael's hand from his sleeve. The strength in his grip was subtle but absolute, a silent testament to the two cores currently thrumming in his chest. "Let him try, Kael. Knowledge without application is merely a dream. It is time I applied what I have learned."
Cian pushed past the stunned guard and walked toward the heavy oak doors of the Great Hall.
The scene inside was exactly as he had envisioned. The air was thick with the scent of roasted meat and expensive wine. His father, Lord Alaric Valerius, sat at the head of the long table, his face a mask of restrained, granite like fury. Opposite him stood Julian Blackwood. Julian was a tall, broad shouldered youth dressed in polished black plate armor that bore the sigil of a striking crow. He held a practice rapier in his hand, idly flicking the flexible steel tip against the stone floor with a rhythmic, annoying clatter.
"And we all know the Valerius line has been thinning for generations," Julian was saying, his voice loud enough to carry to every corner of the room. "To claim a 'Prismatic' glow from a boy who can barely carry a tray of books? It is an insult to the Hegemony and the First Saints, Alaric. If the boy has talent, let him show it with steel, not with a broken relic."
"My son's talent is not for a Blackwood to question," Alaric growled, his hand tightening around his wine goblet until the silver began to deform.
"Then let him prove me wrong!" Julian laughed, turning his head as the doors creaked open. "Ah, the Great Scholar finally joins us! Tell me, Cian, did you find a book on how to survive a duel? Or shall I wait while you look up the 'Source Code' of a parry in your scrolls?"
The minor nobles and envoys around the table chuckled nervously. The Imperial Overseer, who still looked visibly shaken from the previous day's events, watched the confrontation with a keen, analytical interest.
Cian walked into the center of the hall, his eyes locking onto Julian's. In his vision, the world began to dissolve into its fundamental logic.
[Target Analysis Initiated.]
[Name: Julian Blackwood.]
[Rank: Awakened (Level 5).]
[Talent: Heroic.]
[Primary Flaw: Excessive weight distribution on the leading right foot. His center of gravity is too high for a rapier user.]
[Secondary Flaw: His mana circulation in the left shoulder is sluggish, causing a 0.2 second delay in his defensive rotations.]
"You want a duel, Julian?" Cian asked, his voice cutting through the laughter like a cold wind.
"A spar," Julian corrected, a cruel glint appearing in his eyes. "First blood. Just to prove that your 'Divine' glow wasn't a parlor trick. Of course, if you are too afraid, you can simply admit the fraud and go back to your dusty tower."
"Cian, sit down," Alaric said, his voice full of protective dread. "You do not have to do this."
"It is alright, Father," Cian said, looking back at his father with a gaze that held the weight of a thirty year veteran. "Lord Julian is correct about one thing. In Oros, strength is the only currency that matters. I would hate for our guests to think House Valerius is bankrupt."
Cian walked over to the weapon rack on the side of the hall. He bypassed the high quality steel longswords and the balanced rapiers. Instead, he picked up a simple, wooden training sword that had been weighted with lead. It was a clumsy, blunt instrument, used primarily by children to build wrist strength.
The hall went silent. Julian's laughter died in his throat, replaced by a look of mounting insult. "You intend to fight me with a piece of wood, Valerius?"
"Against you, wood should be more than sufficient," Cian replied.
The Imperial Overseer stood up, sensing the opportunity for a formal report. "Very well. By the laws of the Hegemony, I shall act as the witness. The duel is for first blood or until one party yields. Begin!"
Julian didn't hesitate. He was an Awakened warrior of the fifth level, and his physical speed was far beyond what any normal human could track. He blurred forward, the tip of his rapier aimed directly at Cian's right shoulder. It was a move designed to humiliate, to leave a jagged scar that would remind Cian of his place every time he looked in a mirror.
Cian didn't move until the blade was less than an inch from his tunic.
He didn't parry the strike. He simply shifted his weight three inches to the left. The rapier hissed past his ear, cutting nothing but the air. To the onlookers, it looked like a stroke of incredible luck, but to Cian, it was a simple matter of geometry. He had seen the "Vector Line" of the strike long before Julian had even lunged.
"Luck," Julian hissed, spinning on his heel for a follow up slash.
Julian unleashed a flurry of strikes, his rapier moving like a swarm of angry hornets. He used the Blackwood family style, the 'Shadow Peck,' a technique designed to overwhelm the opponent's senses with high speed feints.
Cian moved through the storm with a clinical, almost bored efficiency. A half step back. A slight tilt of the head. A rotation of the hips. He was moving within the "Dead Zones" of Julian's technique, the gaps in the logic that Julian himself didn't even know existed. To the people watching, it looked like a dance. Cian was always exactly where the sword wasn't.
"Stand still and fight, you coward!" Julian roared. His ego was beginning to crack, and with it, his mana control. He channeled his essence into his blade, the rapier glowing with a faint, dark aura. He unleashed his signature skill: [Viper's Tongue].
The blade seemed to split into three distinct points of light, striking from the top, the left, and the center simultaneously. It was a Heroic rank skill that was impossible to dodge for someone of a lower rank.
Cian finally raised his wooden sword.
He didn't strike at Julian's blade. Instead, he thrust the wooden tip forward into the empty space between Julian's ribs and his right arm.
THWACK.
The sound of wood hitting plate armor echoed through the hall. Cian had struck the exact point where Julian's mana resonance was concentrated. The "Heroic" skill shattered instantly, the dark aura dissipating like smoke in a gale. Julian's arm went numb as the feedback of his own interrupted mana hit his nervous system.
Julian stumbled back, his eyes wide with shock. "What... what did you do?"
Cian didn't give him time to recover. He stepped into Julian's guard, his movement as precise as a clockwork mechanism. He swung the wooden sword in a short, brutal arc, striking Julian's leading right knee—the point he had identified earlier as the primary flaw in Julian's balance.
Julian's leg buckled. He fell to one knee, his rapier clattering to the obsidian floor. Before he could even look up, the cold, blunt tip of the wooden sword was pressed firmly against the center of his forehead.
The Great Hall fell into a silence so profound that you could hear the crackle of the logs in the hearth. The Imperial Overseer stood frozen, his quill hovering over his parchment. Lord Alaric had half risen from his seat, his mouth slightly agape.
"You have a fundamental flaw in your lunge, Julian," Cian said, his voice calm and instructional, as if he were simply pointing out a typo in a manuscript. "You lead with your hip, which leaves your center line open for exactly zero point two seconds. And your mana circulation in your left shoulder is stagnant, which is why your 'Viper's Tongue' always favors the right side. You should spend less time in the Hegemony's salons and more time on the basics of weight distribution."
Cian pulled the wooden sword back and stepped away. He didn't look triumphant; he looked like a teacher who was disappointed in a particularly slow student.
"The duel is over," the Overseer stammered, his eyes darting between the kneeling Julian and the calm, silver haired boy. "Cian Valerius is the victor by yielding."
Julian looked up, his face a mask of humiliated rage. "This... this is impossible! You used a trick! No scholar can defeat an Awakened warrior of the fifth level!"
"I didn't use a trick, Julian," Cian said, turning his back on him. "I used the truth. You should try finding it sometime. It is much more effective than your family's bribes."
Cian walked toward his father. Lord Alaric was looking at his son as if he were seeing a stranger a powerful, terrifying stranger who had been hiding in his own house for sixteen years.
"Father," Cian said, bowing slightly. "If you will excuse me, I believe I have more books to read. The 'Source Code' of the border's defenses is quite out of date."
Cian walked out of the hall, his two cores pulsing with a satisfying, rhythmic heat. He had proven his point. He had the strength. He had the rank. And as he felt the Sovereign Tutor talent beginning to vibrate in his mind, he looked at the guards standing in the hallway.
The solo predator phase was working. Now, it was time to build the foundation of the Legion.