The Dagger's Limitations
Four years had passed since Cedric began his training under the Umbra. His mastery of the dark element had grown, his body had hardened, and his skill with daggers was now on par with the lower-ranking members of the shadow squad. But despite his progress, something gnawed at him.
Daggers were precise, lethal, and perfect for assassinations—but they lacked something.
Range. Power. Versatility.
Every night, after the brutal training sessions, Cedric would slip away to a secluded corner of the Leonheart estate's abandoned training grounds. There, hidden from prying eyes, he would pick up two objects: a long wooden stick he had carved to resemble a spear and a roughly shaped wooden sword.
The Impossible Experiment
At first, the idea was laughable.
A spear was a weapon of reach, meant to be wielded with both hands for thrusting and sweeping strikes. A sword was a weapon of precision, requiring fluid motion and controlled slashes. Using both at the same time? Absurd.
But Cedric was stubborn.
His first attempts were clumsy. The spear wobbled in his left hand, its length making it unwieldy when paired with the sword in his right. He tripped over his own feet, the weapons clashing against each other mid-motion. More than once, he smacked himself in the face with the spear's shaft.
But he refused to give up.
The Evolution of a Style
Night after night, Cedric adjusted.
The Spear: He shortened the length slightly, making it easier to control one-handed. He sanded down the grip, ensuring it wouldn't slip in his palm during rapid movements.
The Sword: He modified the hilt, wrapping it in cloth for better grip, and balanced the weight to complement the spear's reach.
Slowly, a rhythm emerged.
The spear became an extension of his left arm—jabbing, sweeping, keeping opponents at bay. The sword in his right hand darted in for quick cuts, exploiting openings created by the spear's pressure. It was unorthodox. It was reckless.
But it was his.
The First True Test
One evening, as Cedric practiced a particularly fluid combination—a low sweep with the spear followed by an upward slash with the sword—a voice cut through the darkness.
"I knew you were sneaking off, but this?"
Cedric whirled, weapons raised, only to see Ryn leaning against a tree, arms crossed. The Umbra assassin had a smirk on his face.
"You've been wasting your time with sticks?" Ryn scoffed.
Cedric lowered his weapons, his face burning. "It's not a waste."
Ryn pushed off the tree and strode forward. "Prove it."
Before Cedric could react, Ryn lunged, a dagger flashing in his hand. Instinct took over.
The spear intercepted Ryn's strike, deflecting the blade.
The sword followed up, forcing Ryn to twist away.
A quick shift in stance, and the spear's butt slammed into Ryn's ribs, sending him stumbling back.
Ryn blinked, then grinned. "Well, damn."
Aveline's Discovery
Of course, it couldn't stay a secret forever.
Aveline, ever the nosy heiress, had noticed Cedric's frequent disappearances. One night, she followed him, her light footsteps silent against the grass.
What she saw left her stunned.
Cedric moved like a whirlwind—spear and sword weaving together in a dance that was equal parts brutal and graceful. Sweat glistened on his skin, his muscles taut with effort. For a moment, Aveline forgot to breathe.
Then she snapped back to reality.
"You're going to get yourself killed with that nonsense," she declared, stepping into the moonlight.
Cedric nearly dropped his weapons. "Aveline—!"
She crossed her arms. "If you're going to insist on this… ridiculous style, at least use real weapons."
With that, she tossed him a wrapped bundle. Inside lay a polished short spear and a slender arming sword—both clearly custom-made.
Cedric stared. "You… had these made?"
Aveline's cheeks flushed. "D-Don't misunderstand! I just didn't want you embarrassing the Leonheart name with your stupid stick-fighting!"
Before he could respond, she stormed off, her light blue hair flickering like a banner in the night.
A Silent Vow
Alone again, Cedric gripped the new weapons, his chest tight.
Four years ago, he had been a starving beggar. Now, he had a home. A purpose.
And now, a fighting style that was his alone.
He raised the spear and sword in unison, the moonlight glinting off the steel.
"I'll prove it," he whispered. "I'll prove this isn't absurd."
He made that fighting style in those four year although it was not polished. but his journey was just started now he was 11 year old
The report had come in just before dawn—a B-rank monster sighting near the western farms. Normally, such threats would be left to adventurers, but this was different.
"The creature doesn't match any known species," the scout had panted, his face pale. "Its eyes... they glowed violet."
Duke Godfrey Leonheart had summoned the Umbra immediately.
"Investigate. Eliminate. Leave no trace of this... anomaly," he ordered, his voice like gravel.
Kael, the squad leader, nodded. "We move at once."
Cedric, now eleven but already hardened by a year of brutal training, stood among them. He was the youngest by far, but his small size and natural affinity for the dark element made him useful for reconnaissance.
Into the Jungle
The western jungle was thick, the air heavy with the scent of damp earth and rotting foliage. Sunlight barely pierced the canopy, casting the world in an eerie twilight. The Umbra moved like shadows, their footsteps silent, their presence undetectable.
Cedric stayed close to Ryn, the youngest full-fledged operative. The man had taken a reluctant liking to him, often sneaking him extra rations during training.
"Stay sharp, kid," Ryn muttered. "Something's off about this place."
Cedric nodded, his grip tightening on his daggers.
The First Clue
They found the first sign of the monster near a trampled thicket—a trail of blackened, sizzling saliva eating into the earth.
"Acid?" Vex, the squad's poison expert, crouched, examining the substance. "No... this is something else. It's alive."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "Spread out. Find it."
The Discovery
Cedric was the one who spotted the nest.
Hidden deep in the jungle's heart was a clearing—and at its center, a pulsating mound of flesh, veins throbbing with that same unnatural violet glow. Around it, the remains of half-eaten livestock lay scattered, their bodies twisted as if something had been experimenting on them.
"Gods above..." Ryn breathed.
Then the bushes rustled.
The Abominations
They emerged from the shadows—five of them, each more grotesque than the last.
A wolf with too many legs, its jaws unhinged like a snake's.
A boar with spines erupting from its back, dripping with the same blackened saliva.
A crow the size of a dog, its feathers replaced with jagged bone.
And their eyes. Those violet, glowing eyes.
Kael didn't hesitate. "Engage!"
The Fight Begins
The Umbra moved as one.
Kael vanished into the shadows, reappearing behind the wolf to drive a dagger into its spine.
Vex lashed out with tendrils of dark energy, binding the boar's limbs.
Ryn and the others fanned out, blades flashing.
Cedric, though small, was no bystander. He dodged a lunge from the crow, countering with a slash across its talons. Dark energy flared along his dagger, the wound sizzling as if burned.
The creatures howled—but then, the nest moved.
Something was inside. Something bigger.