Morning arrived quietly over the Asheville Estate.
A pale silver dawn spread across the western skies while cold mist drifted softly through the outer training grounds behind the mansion. Dew rested upon the grass beneath faint morning sunlight while distant forest winds carried the scent of wet stone, iron, and cold earth across the enormous estate.
The mansion itself still remained mostly asleep.
Servants had only just begun preparing the morning halls.
Patrol knights quietly rotated shifts near the outer walls.
And the world itself still carried that peaceful silence existing only before sunrise fully awakens civilization.
Yet—
Inside the training grounds—
Steel already moved.
SHHHHK—
A blade cut through the cold morning air.
Sharp.
Clean.
Precise.
Kel stood alone at the center of the enormous stone arena beneath drifting mist.
His black training clothes moved softly beneath the cold winds while silver strands of morning light reflected faintly against the dark blade resting within his hand.
Reina's sword.
The sword she personally commissioned for him before he left toward the Southern Territories.
Elegant silver-black steel.
Balanced perfectly.
And near the lower portion of the blade—
One name remained carved carefully.
Reina.
Kel quietly exhaled afterward.
Then once more—
His aura surged.
A deep crimson-black pressure slowly wrapped around the blade within his hand while faint distortions spread across the surrounding air itself.
Aura Sword.
One of the most difficult combat techniques within martial systems.
Not simply coating a weapon with energy—
But synchronizing aura itself with the blade's structure, movement, rhythm, and killing intent simultaneously.
Most swordsmen spent decades mastering basic Aura Sword control.
Kel however—
Already moved far beyond basic mastery.
The problem now wasn't control.
It was evolution.
His dark eyes narrowed slightly afterward.
Then—
He moved.
BOOOOM—
The ground beneath him cracked instantly.
Kel's figure vanished forward like black lightning while the sword within his hand carved a violent crimson arc across the mist-covered arena.
SHHHHHK—
The air itself split.
A distant training pillar exploded moments later despite standing nearly fifty meters away.
Yet Kel didn't stop.
His aura surged again immediately.
This time—
The leaking pressure escaping from his body itself began condensing.
One sword appeared beside him.
Then another.
Then another.
Pure aura constructs.
Semi-transparent crimson-black swords floating around his body like predatory spirits born from overflowing power itself.
Multi Aura Sword Strike.
A technique Kel himself began developing recently.
Instead of merely controlling one aura-infused sword—
He weaponized even the aura leaking from his own body.
Compressed it.
Stabilized it.
Forged it into additional swords.
The concept itself was absurd.
Because normal aura leakage was considered wasted energy.
Kel however—
Turned waste into weapons.
Inside his mind—
Sairen softly muttered:
"You really treat every combat system like something needing reconstruction."
Kel calmly shifted stance afterward.
"Most systems are inefficient."
The silver-haired spirit sighed.
"One day the world itself is going to become offended by your existence."
Kel ignored her completely.
Meanwhile—
The floating aura swords behind him rotated slowly.
One.
Three.
Five.
Seven.
Each blade radiated unstable destructive pressure while the ground beneath them cracked continuously from concentrated aura density.
Kel slowly inhaled afterward.
Then moved again.
SHHHK—
The main sword slashed downward.
At the same instant—
The floating aura swords followed different trajectories simultaneously.
One pierced forward directly.
Another rotated upward.
Two crossed diagonally.
Another split apart into smaller fragmented blades mid-flight.
The training ground erupted violently.
Stone shattered.
Shockwaves exploded.
Aura pressure distorted the surrounding mist itself into spiraling currents.
Yet despite the overwhelming destruction—
Kel's expression remained calm.
Focused.
Analyzing.
Each movement.
Each variation.
Each imperfection.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Because despite his monstrous growth—
Kel still trained obsessively.
Not for strength alone.
For refinement.
Optimization.
Evolution.
His body moved continuously across the arena afterward while the floating aura blades shifted formations around him like living extensions of his will.
At one moment—
They resembled defensive circles.
Next—
Predatory hunting patterns.
Then suddenly—
The swords condensed together into one massive rotating aura spear before exploding outward once more.
Kel quietly frowned afterward.
"…Too unstable."
Inside his mind—
Sairen asked softly:
"You're trying to synchronize independent movement pathways?"
Kel nodded slightly.
"The response delay increases after seven constructs."
"And?"
Kel's dark eyes sharpened.
"I need better rotational balance between core aura circulation and external projection."
Sairen became quiet briefly.
Then eventually muttered:
"You speak like an insane researcher more than a swordsman."
Meanwhile—
Far above the training grounds—
One mansion window slowly opened.
Reina stood there silently.
Still wearing her light morning robe loosely over black sleepwear while silver hair flowed naturally around her shoulders beneath the cold dawn wind.
And the moment she looked downward—
She froze slightly.
Kel.
Training.
Just like before.
The sight itself felt strangely nostalgic.
Yet at the same time—
Terrifyingly unfamiliar.
Because his movements changed again.
Faster.
Sharper.
Heavier.
Even the air around him looked dangerous now.
The silver-haired matriarch quietly stepped onto the balcony afterward while silently observing him below.
Then—
Her eyes widened slightly.
Floating swords.
No—
Aura swords.
Multiple of them.
Reina quietly watched the crimson-black blades moving around Kel like orbiting stars of destruction while shockwaves continuously shattered portions of the arena below.
And somehow—
The scene looked beautiful.
Dangerously beautiful.
Kel's black clothes moved sharply beneath the morning winds while his swordplay flowed without interruption from one variation into another endlessly.
No wasted movement.
No hesitation.
Only continuous adaptation.
Like watching someone attempt creating an entirely new sword style in real time.
Inside her chest—
A strange warmth quietly spread.
Because the sword in his hand…
Was the one she gave him.
And he actually used it seriously.
Not as decoration.
Not as sentiment.
But as his primary blade.
Meanwhile—
Kel suddenly shifted stance again.
The floating aura swords condensed rapidly afterward.
Ten total now.
The pressure across the training grounds became overwhelming instantly.
CRAAAAACK—
Even the stone beneath his feet fractured violently.
Then—
Kel attacked.
The main sword moved first.
The floating swords followed half a breath later.
Different angles.
Different trajectories.
Different speeds.
The entire assault pattern resembled multiple swordsmen attacking simultaneously from every possible direction.
An unavoidable storm of blades.
Yet midway through execution—
Kel suddenly stopped.
The aura swords shattered apart instantly into crimson particles.
Silence returned briefly afterward.
Kel quietly narrowed his eyes.
"…Still inefficient."
Inside his mind—
Sairen sounded helpless now.
"You just created an attack pattern capable of massacring elite knights."
"It lacks precision."
"You are terrifying."
Meanwhile—
Reina quietly smiled faintly from the balcony above.
Because somehow—
Only Kel would look dissatisfied after creating something that absurd.
The cold dawn winds moved softly around her afterward.
And for several moments—
She simply watched him train silently.
No politics.
No noble pressure.
No strategies.
Just Kel beneath the morning mist endlessly refining himself.
And strangely—
That scene alone felt more beautiful to Reina than grand noble banquets ever could.
Meanwhile below—
Kel finally sensed her presence.
His dark eyes slowly lifted upward afterward.
The moment their gazes met—
Reina's silver eyes softened unconsciously again.
Then quietly—
Kel lowered the sword slightly.
And for the first time since sunrise—
A faint smile appeared on his face beneath the drifting morning mist