"Here is where you will decide who you are."
These were the words that brought Seran's attention back.
"Mr. Merc, I don't yet have access to that level of MANA usage. I must first pass the TRIGGER to become a F1," he replied calmly, keeping his gaze on his guide.
"It's just Lud, Seran. After all, I'm a stalled Floor 1 Tower," Lud began, briefly shifting his gaze before continuing. "And to answer your question: before MANA and after MANA, one thing will never change—and that is you. You will decide whether to become a close-range aggressive fighter, a ranged gun user, or a strategist who uses traps and the environment around him…"
He spoke again in a steady tone.
Lud raised his right hand, pointing toward a rack filled with standard weapons and tools nearby.
"Thirty minutes. That's how long you have to think about how you will face your future challenges. What I'm about to tell you may sound trivial or meaningless—but follow your instinct."
Understanding the importance of the decision before him, Seran began examining the weapons one by one.
He stopped in front of a spear, testing its grip and performing a few thrusts to understand its motion. A minute later, he was holding an assault rifle in a firing stance, and so on—cycling through weapon after weapon as the time steadily approached its limit.
"So, boy… what have you decided?" Lud asked, stepping closer to his candidate.
Seran cast one last glance at the rack.
With a firm and decisive hand, he picked up a pair of swords with their respective scabbards.
The first had a 90 cm blade. The second, 60 cm. Both made of standard metal.
"An interesting choice. A long sword that lives through continuous motion: fast thrusts, wide and precise cuts, fluid transitions between offense and defense. A weapon that demands discipline and awareness," Lud observed.
Seran nodded at the veteran's words.
"The short sword—compact and direct. Unlike the long sword, it does not dominate distance, but instead enters the opponent's space. A weapon that rewards those who act without hesitation, exploiting every opening in close-range chaos," the guide continued.
Lud led the boy toward a secluded training area within the hall.
Standing directly in front of Seran, he said:
"Let's see if the IHE's reputation is deserved."
After a brief pause, he added:
"Candidate Delora, my evaluation of your abilities as your guide begins now. Prepare yourself!"
Aware that he was not yet skilled in wielding both swords simultaneously, Seran sheathed the shorter blade.
He stepped forward, holding only the long sword in his right hand.
In front of him, Lud remained motionless.
No weapon drawn.
Seran moved first.
The opening thrust was fast, direct, precise.
Lud tilted his body slightly—the blade passed through empty air.
Seran did not stop. He converted the motion into a lateral slash, but Lud had already shifted out of line with a single step.
Second attack: a diagonal strike from above. Still nothing.
Seran increased his pace.
"Faster… focus on his movements," he thought, missing again.
Thrusts and slashes followed one after another—faster, heavier, more desperate.
"Five years of Ricant's lessons… and this is all I've got?"
But Lud remained untouchable.
A step. A rotation. A minimal shift of weight. Enough to evade every strike without ever losing balance.
Time passed.
Seran's breathing grew heavier. His movements less clean.
He attempted a deep thrust to break the distance.
Lud did not retreat.
He slipped inside the movement.
Seran lost stability.
A final attempt to recover.
Too late.
A small crossing of feet. A shift in axis.
And Seran fell to the ground.
Five minutes.
Not a single hit landed.