The message haunted him.
> [Unknown Presence Detected in Inner Realm]
No details. No trace.
Only the echo of something watching.
But Aelric pushed it aside.
He wasn't strong enough yet to worry about ghosts in the soul. Not when enemies with real blades and real grudges roamed the Academy halls.
By dawn, he was already outside on the eastern edge of the Academy training cliffs, practicing the "Stillness Before the Break" movement—first step in understanding the Falling Star Slash.
His blade rested on his shoulder. His eyes stayed closed.
He was learning to hold still—not just physically, but mentally. The stillness wasn't calm. It was concentration sharpened to a blade's edge.
Wind rustled. Birds cried. The sea crashed far below.
But within, Aelric counted heartbeats.
One.
Two.
Three—
Step. Slash.
The motion was simple. But when paired with his Sword Intent, the cut left a white mark hanging in the air for just a second longer than it should have.
> [Falling Star Slash – Comprehension: 9%]
[Sword Intent: +1]
Later, in the library's restricted section, he combed through records of ancient blade techniques and family histories—searching for any clue about the "Blade Seed," or why his Inner Realm had reacted the way it did.
What he found instead was a single phrase in a weathered tome:
> "The Fallen Blade shall awaken from ash, and where it walks, kings shall tremble."
Beneath the passage was a crest—faded, almost erased.
But Aelric recognized it.
The Vaelion sigil.
His family's name hadn't always been minor.
Once, long ago, House Vaelion had ruled an entire kingdom.
What happened to us? he wondered. Who erased our legacy?
In the shadows of a cold hall deep beneath the Academy, a hooded figure knelt before a black crystal altar.
The crystal pulsed red.
> "The heir has awakened," a voice whispered from within the stone.
The hooded one nodded.
> "He accessed the seed," the voice continued. "And the Blade remembers."
There was a pause.
Then: "Should we kill him?"
"No," the figure replied. "Not yet."
A silence.
Then the voice rasped: "Then test him. See if he's truly worthy of the fallen name."
Back above, Aelric returned to his dorm to find a message sealed with a silver stamp.
He broke it open.
> Aelric Vaelion,
You are invited to the Blade Arc Trials—a private combat evaluation held at the Midnight Arena.
Attendance is mandatory.
Come alone.
No signature. No crest. Just the words.
His fingers tightened on the note.
A test... or a trap?
He didn't know. But one thing was certain.
He'd go.
That night, as the twin moons rose above the towers, Aelric stood alone before the Midnight Arena, a circular platform of black obsidian nestled in the ancient part of the Academy grounds.
He stepped forward—and the world changed.
Twelve figures in dark cloaks appeared in a ring around the edge of the arena.
A voice echoed.
"You carry a name that should be forgotten. You wield a blade that should have died with your bloodline."
Aelric's eyes narrowed. "Then why call me here?"
"To see if you deserve what you've inherited."
One of the cloaked figures raised a hand. A blast of mana surged—and a massive beast stepped out of a summoned gate.
It was like a lion, but twice the size, and its body was armored in bone. Its eyes glowed green.
> [Monster Identified: Bone-Clad Mauler | Rank: Tier 4 | Intelligence: Low]
[Suggested Strategy: Exploit Speed + Weak Underbelly]
> [System Points Available: 11]
[Activate Phantom Step Boost?]
"Yes," Aelric whispered.
He drew his blade.
Then charged straight at the monster.