The afternoon sun hung high, casting sharp shadows across the vast Elfred training grounds. A gentle breeze carried the scent of iron and sweat, but the air was heavy with anticipation. Standing before a group of twenty young recruits, Darkness exuded an overwhelming presence. Her sharp gaze swept over the trembling figures—nobles, commoners, boys and girls—all who had come to this prestigious house seeking strength.
But they were not met with kindness.
Darkness stood tall, arms crossed, her black training outfit clinging to her toned figure, her expression cold and unyielding. She was not here to coddle them.
"Do you think yourselves as warriors?" she asked, her voice calm yet slicing through the air.
No one answered.
She stepped forward, releasing a sliver of killing intent. A chilling aura exploded from her body, sweeping over the recruits like a suffocating wave. Their knees buckled, breathing turned shallow, as if the very air had turned against them.
"I asked—Do you think yourselves as warriors?" she repeated.
Still, only silence.
Darkness's lips curled into a sharp smile. "You can hold a sword. That doesn't make you a knight. You've learned a few Martial Arts techniques and mastered basic Aura, and now you dare call yourselves warriors?" Her words cut deeper than any blade.
From a distance, Instructor Chris watched the scene unfold, a satisfied grin tugging at his lips. This was exactly the effect he had hoped for.
Unbeknownst to the recruits, noble ladies—hidden from sight—were using observation spells to watch and listen. Though such casual use of magic within House Elfred was common, Darkness was fully aware of their eavesdropping. She welcomed it.
'If they want a show, I'll give them one,' she thought, her eyes gleaming.
"Listen well, you little insects," she began, her tone venomous. "Your families sent you here believing you would emerge as warriors. But you're delusional. You think holding a sword makes you strong? You think learning Aura makes you special?" She pointed to the ground. "Come at me. I will shatter your illusion. Now."
No one moved.
Her smile turned dangerous. "If you come to me, I will knock you down with a soft touch. But if I come to you, I will make sure you feel pain."
The threat lingered, heavier than the silence that followed.
Seeing their hesitation, Chris decided to interject. "Do you know about Lady Darkness's attire?" he asked, shifting the atmosphere. The recruits, eager for any distraction, latched onto his words.
"She crafted it herself," Chris continued. "Forged from Bromus—also known as Dark Iron."
Gasps echoed among the trainees.
Bromus was a legendary metal—rare, soft, and nearly impossible to forge. Known for its unique properties, it could absorb Aura and magic, growing denser and heavier the more it devoured. A single pea-sized piece could reach a kilogram in weight after absorbing sufficient energy.
"But… isn't it forbidden to use Bromus?" a young recruit questioned hesitantly.
Chris smirked. "Indeed. Her entire outfit is crafted from Bromus, layered with enchantments. By now, it's at least twenty times heavier than normal. And yet, she wears it as if it's air."
A chill ran through the group.
Marcus, the brash heir of House Carnelle, gritted his teeth. "Tch. Fine! I'll go first!"
He charged.
Within seconds, he was flat on the ground, groaning.
Inspired by his attempt, the rest followed, but none lasted more than a breath. One by one, they fell. Though defeated, there was no bitterness—only admiration. Their gazes shone with newfound respect.
But Darkness was not satisfied.
'Hmph. My reputation has made them soft. I wanted to crush their arrogance, but now they only admire me. Tch… I'll have to change my approach,' she mused.
As Chris stepped aside, beginning his own training, Darkness faced the recruits once more. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone now colder.
The group exchanged uncertain glances.
"To learn weapons and training," one answered.
"Next," Darkness snapped.
"To grow stronger," another muttered.
"Next."
"To master Martial Arts and Aura techniques," a third responded, earning an annoyed scoff from Darkness.
"Shut up. You know nothing."
Her sudden outburst sent a visible shudder through the group. Even the noble ladies watching through their magic circles felt the weight of her disappointment.
"You all think this is about techniques? About swinging a sword or flexing your Aura?" she said, voice rising. "You're wrong. You're here to understand. Understand who you are."
She paced slowly, her voice softening, yet every word struck with iron clarity.
"You all come from different backgrounds. Some of you were trained since birth, some born with talent, and some… have nothing. But you all share two things in common: Time and Potential. You are young, unpolished, raw. You have the power to carve your own path in this world, but first—you must understand yourselves."
The recruits listened, captivated.
"Training, Martial Arts, Aura manipulation—they mean nothing if you don't understand your own body, your own mind, your limits. Some of you are born for speed, others for strength, some for precision. You cannot master everything. But you can master yourself."
She allowed her words to sink in before continuing.
"You have dreams, responsibilities, and desires. But let go of them—for now. They are shackles. For the time you are here, focus only on yourself. Push beyond your limits, not for your family, not for your house—but for yourself."
Her tone became gentle, almost maternal, yet beneath it was an unwavering steel.
"Because your family won't understand you. Your parents, relatives, friends—they only know the version of you that you show. They can't see your struggle. But when you grow—when you become something beyond their expectations—you'll prove to them who you truly are."
"Yes!" the recruits shouted in unison, their voices echoing through the training grounds.
Darkness's expression remained firm. "Good. Now, twenty laps around this field. No Martial Arts. No Aura reinforcement. If I catch anyone cheating, punishment will be immediate."
With that, she took off, her pace steady and unrelenting. The recruits followed, pushing themselves harder than they ever had.
From afar, the noble ladies watched in awe. Their admiration for Darkness deepened—not just for her strength, but for her unwavering belief in self-made power. Some felt a painful ache of regret. Once, they too had dreams of becoming warriors, of forging their own paths. But the chains of nobility had bound them.
Yet today, watching Darkness, a spark reignited.
They, too, wanted to move forward—perhaps not as warriors, but as women who could reclaim their own paths.