Silas stretched his hand and did as he saw in the vision, and two different kinds of magic circle one made of pure lightning and another made of pure space element appeared in his hand.
This time not just Cassian, even Lysandra felt numb. She never expected that her child could use magic too, and two of the rarest elements of them all.
The knight who spoke before said with horrified eyes towards Silas, "Magic swordsman! He is a natural born magic swordsman." His voice trembled.
Another old knight said, "Impossible, aren't there only a few of them on the whole planet who can use magic and swordsmanship together now?"
Another knight nodded then said, "We can't leak this information no matter what. Young master Silas would be in danger if the Imperium knows about this."
Cassian nodded then said, "No one should know about this. Everyone should keep this secret inside themselves. Whoever leaks the news will be killed by the Valerius family."
Silas became confused. Is it necessary to act like this? Isn't it normal to know magic and swordsmanship at the same time? He thought to himself.
Cassian looked at Silas and said in a serious tone, "Silas, don't ever use both at the same time ever in your life until necessary, until you reach a corresponding level to protect yourself."
Silas nodded and then said, "I actually wanted to join Argent Academy hiding my real identity. And I think I'd use magic in the academy."
Cassian thought for a moment and then nodded. Aleric and Lysandra came towards Silas then hugged him tightly.
They both know just how talented Silas is. He only learned magic and swordsmanship for a single day and he reached the Sword Master realm in his swordsmanship and even learned two different kinds of rarest magic circles at the same time.
He is a natural born genius. And one of the magic swordsman in existence.
Silas stood outside the castle gate in a black shirt, light ochre pants, and leather boots, his magic bag slung over one shoulder and a white horse waiting beside him. He didn't bring anything else you can carry anything in a magic bag except live animals.
Lysandra hugged him one last time, eyes wet. Cassian and Aleric didn't say much; they just nodded, the appreciation plain in their faces.
Cassian said, "If you face any problem you can't manage, use the Valerius emblem."
Aleric added, "Yes though the academies are all under the Imperium, they'll still show us face."
Silas nodded, said his goodbyes, and swung up onto the white horse. He rode out alone, the castle shrinking behind him.
The recruitment ceremony was being held on a baron's land under Valerius jurisdiction. The academy itself stays hidden by powerful magic; only a student the academy accepts can find the way in.
By mid-morning Silas reached the ground dust, banners, and rows of canvas tents where the academy staff had set up registration tables.
The line of hopeful students stretched past the baron's boundary stones, and the air buzzed with mana, and the faint shimmer of wards that made the tents look, from certain angles, like they weren't quite there.
Silas stepped into the line and waited until he reached the registration table.
"Name and family's name? And you'll need two silver coins for the registration as per Imperium fixed," the clerk said, not looking up.
Silas reached into his pocket for the two silver coins his mother had given him before he left he only had gold, not silver or bronze and set them on the counter. "Silas. I don't have a family."
The clerk glanced at him, filled out the form, and slid a token across. "We'll start testing your abilities in a few moments. Be present at that time."
Silas nodded, took the token, and found a strip of shade to stand in. He folded his arms and waited.
A commotion rippled through the crowd.
He moved toward it and asked the guy in front of him, "Brother! What is happening here?"
The guy turned. "Brother, are you also a new student wanting to enter the academy?"
Silas nodded. The guy clapped him on the shoulder. "Welcome, junior if you pass the test you'll need to talk to me like a senior. I'll be a year above you. My name is Rodrick."
Silas smiled. "Then senior Rodrick, can you tell me what's happening here?"
Rodrick jerked his chin toward the front. "You don't know him yet, but you will. He's the most popular and youngest instructor in the academy. His name is Draven. Draven is practicing his sword that's why everyone's watching."
Silas's interest sharpened. He followed Rodrick to the front row.
There he saw a handsome young man, maybe three or four years older than him, in a warrior's dress with silver plates on his shoulders. Deep brownish-golden hair cut in a wolf cut, amber eyes. Draven moved through his forms without pause, the practice blade hissing as it cut the air.
Silas concentrated on the sword moves and muttered "analyse" inside his head.
The scene changed. A completely different old man with long hair appeared, performing the same moves Draven was using but more refined. When he finished, he flowed into a different style that countered every line Draven had just drawn, a perfect answer to each cut and bind. Then he looked at Silas and said, "I managed to counter my own technique in my old days. Use it well." And he disappeared.
Silas blinked. The yard snapped back. Draven is still drilling, the crowd still holding its breath. Rodrick leaned in, grinning. "See? That's our instructor. You planning to try his style in the test?"
Silas didn't answer. He kept his eyes on the blade, the counters already settling into his hands like they'd been there for years.
Silas looked at Rodrick and shook his head. "No. I'm a mage. I want the mage section of the academy."
Rodrick blinked, then grinned. "Brother, so you're going for the mage section! Wonderful, always good to meet a fellow mage junior. But junior… you didn't introduce yourself."
Silas felt embarrassed and scratched his head. "Sorry, senior. My name is Silas."
Rodrick laughed. "Silas! Good name, good name. Don't worry we seniors came here to register today and those instructors came to test you. The test will be tomorrow, be prepared."
Silas frowned. "But the clerk said it'll be in a few moments."
Rodrick sneered. "That idiot Callum messed up again. I need to go fix it. The test is tomorrow, remember it, Silas. Don't miss it."
Silas nodded. Rodrick didn't wait; he jogged off toward the registration tent to scold Callum.
Draven finished his practice and left without looking at the crowd. For him his sword was the only thing that mattered.
Silas rode back to the barony's town and found an inn. He paid one gold coin at the counter. The clerk went uneasy and hurriedly gave him back the rest after deducting the night and meal. Silas took the key and went upstairs, but his head was full of those sword moves. He'd never gotten words from the figures in his visions before he'd guessed they could see him because they always smiled, but they never spoke. This time the old man had spoken.
At night Silas slipped out and went to an empty yard behind the academy camp. He picked up a dry branch and started practicing the counter forms he'd learned from the old man. Time bled away. He fell into a complete enlightenment, the branch whispering through the air, his feet finding the exact angles without thought. He didn't notice anyone around him.
Draven had come to practice again. He stopped at the edge of the yard and went still. A handsome young man was moving through a sword technique that countered his own forms from the morning every bind, every cut answered and turned back on itself.
Draven's eyes lit up. He watched with a hunger he didn't bother to hide. He'd never met anyone who could counter his sword. Now, right there in the dark, someone was doing it clean, precise, like the moves had been made for this exact purpose.
Silas finished the set, exhaled, and went still the moment he felt eyes on him.
He turned. Moonlight caught the other man's face and Silas recognized him at once.
"Senior, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were there," Silas said.
Draven's eyes lit up. "Are you a new student, here for the test?"
Silas nodded. "Yes. My name is Silas."
Draven didn't waste a breath. "Silas, I'm Instructor Draven, in charge of the warrior section's selection. I want to invite you to join."
Silas frowned and shook his head. "Senior Draven, I'm a mage. I want the academy's mage section. I'm sorry to reject your offer."
He didn't wait for a reply. He went to the white horse tied to a tree, mounted, and rode back toward the inn.
Draven stood frozen. He'd never been turned down by a junior who hadn't even entered the academy yet and a mage? Is this some kind of joke? Or just He wanted to shake him off?
He muttered to himself, "Good. Then let's see your performance in the test tomorrow."
He wasn't angry, only more interested. The boy had used a dry branch and shaken the foundations of his sword, making his heart beat like crazy.
Silas got back to the inn, shut the door, and leaned against it while his heart hammered. He'd seen Draven from the crowd in the morning and thought he was handsome; up close, the amber eyes and the way he watched the blade made Silas's pulse skip and then run. He'd left the yard fast because staying felt like standing too near a fire.
Sleep didn't stick. He kept replaying the branch in his hands, the counters flowing out of him, Draven's expression when he said he was a mage. On the other side of town Draven was awake too, turning the same scene over how clean those answers were, how a kid with a stick had unpicked his forms like they were written for him. No anger, just a sharp, restless curiosity that wouldn't let either of them rest.