Two years passed like shifting winds.
Adonis turned fourteen this spring, though few would believe it by looking at him now. The sickly boy who once needed help walking across the hall could now leap from roof to roof without losing breath.
His skin had gained color, his limbs filled out with lean muscle. His posture, once hunched and reserved, was upright and fluid — not arrogant, but quietly confident. His dark black hair had grown longer, and his sharp eyes always seemed calm — observing, calculating.
The change wasn't just physical.
Through relentless practice, meditation, and the unending discipline of the Immortal breathing technique, Adonis had grown far beyond most boys his age.
Where most nobles trained in swordplay or elemental magic with tutors, Adonis trained alone — forging his path one breath at a time.
He could now control five golden swords simultaneously.
It wasn't easy.
Each sword required a careful balance of mana and focus. Too much and he'd drain himself in seconds; too little and the swords would flicker out like candles. But with time, his mental strength had grown — sharper, more enduring.
What had once caused nosebleeds and splitting headaches was now part of his daily routine.
His mana core had also evolved. In this world, one's core defined their standing — their strength, authority, and potential.
From weakest to strongest, the ranks were:
Squire, Knight, Aristocrat, Royal, and King Class
At just fourteen, Adonis had reached Knight Class.
It was a feat few could claim. Even among noble families, a knight-class core at his age was rare enough to draw invitations from every corner of the kingdom.
And they came — letters, couriers, even emissaries — offering him places in prestigious institutions.
His parents were proud, and naturally urged him to accept. Even his mother, cautious and protective as she was, encouraged him to consider the royal academies. With his ability, he could enter as a top candidate, maybe even graduate early.
But Adonis had declined them all.
Not because he was arrogant. But because, deep down, he knew.
"What can they teach me?""Even they don't know what Sword Element is."
Sword Magic — or Sword Element, as he'd come to call it — wasn't listed in any magical records. Not among elemental arts, nor special magics. No known teacher could guide him. It was a power that he would have to uncover alone, through trial, through experience.
He believed that learning in a classroom would only slow him down.
He needed real combat. Real situations. Enemies who didn't pull punches.
And more than that, he needed to understand the world. Not just magic, but the kingdoms, the cultures, the creatures that roamed outside noble walls.
Which is why, despite every part of him wishing to stay...
He had made a decision.
He would become an adventurer.
He would leave for two years — traveling from town to town, taking on missions, exploring ruins, hunting beasts, and seeing the world for himself.
Only after that would he consider joining an academy — when he felt he had enough strength and wisdom to stand among the best.
He hadn't told his parents the full reason. They thought it was wanderlust — youthful spirit.
But the truth went deeper.
There was something he wish to do no matter what.
He couldn't explain it to his parents. He just had to follow it.
Even if it meant leaving the people he loved behind.
Even if it meant walking into the unknown with nothing but his swords and his will.