The silence in the training hall was deafening. Gareth's Sword Aura continued to crack and splinter, blue fragments dissolving into nothing as his technique collapsed under the weight of what he was witnessing. His face had gone pale, eyes wide with the kind of terror that comes from realizing you've made a terrible, potentially fatal mistake.
I looked at him with the same expression one might reserve for a particularly uninteresting insect. The broken hilt in my hand still hummed with power that made his crude Intent look like a child's drawing.
"You came very close to dying just now, Sir Gareth."
The words weren't a threat. They were simply a fact, delivered with the same tone I might use to comment on the weather.
He tried to speak, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly as what remained of his Sword Aura finally guttered out completely. His enhanced blade was just wood again, trembling in his grip.
I tilted my head slightly, as if puzzled by something. "I'm going to spare you. Do you know why?"
Gareth shook his head frantically, backing away despite himself.
'Because Celia shouldn't have to see blood at her age,' I thought, glancing toward where my sister stood frozen by the door. She'd been through enough psychological torture - witnessing her brother kill her instructor, no matter how much he deserved it, would leave scars that might never heal.
"Because cleaning up the mess wouldn't be worth my time," I said aloud, letting cold contempt color each word. "Leave this estate. Leave this duchy. If I see you again, I won't be so merciful."
I didn't need to elaborate. The broken sword in my hand had already demonstrated what my mercy looked like.
Gareth nodded desperately, dropping his practice sword and stumbling toward the exit like a man fleeing from a nightmare. I watched him go with mild interest, the way one might observe a roach scurrying away from the light.
The moment he disappeared, the strain I'd been hiding hit me all at once. Pain lanced through my chest and the taste of copper filled my mouth. I felt warmth trickle down my chin and quickly wiped it away with my sleeve.
'Pushed too hard,' I realized grimly. Using Sword Unity through an Orange Stage core was like forcing a river through a straw - possible, but not without consequences.
Despite being three mana stages weaker than Gareth, my three levels of superior sword mastery had been enough to completely dominate him. Intent versus Unity wasn't even a fair comparison - it was like a candle trying to outshine the sun. But the gap in our cores had forced me to strain my limits just to manifest a fraction of my true capability.
I needed to get stronger. This world had dangers I hadn't even begun to understand.
"Lance?" Celia's voice was small and frightened. "Are you hurt?"
I turned to her, forcing my expression into something gentle despite the lingering taste of blood. She looked so young standing there in her rumpled practice clothes, silver hair disheveled from what should have been a normal lesson.
"I'm fine, Celia," I said softly, crossing to where she stood. "Are you?"
She nodded quickly, though her crimson eyes were still wide with uncertainty. "What happened? Why did Sir Gareth run away like that?"
'How much should I tell her?' The truth would only hurt her more right now.
"He wasn't treating you properly," I said, kneeling down to her level. "We had a disagreement about his teaching methods."
Celia studied my face with that perceptive gaze that always made her seem older than her years. "He was mean to me," she admitted quietly. "He said terrible things. About Mother, about you, about..." She looked down at her hands. "About me."
"I know," I said gently, reaching out to smooth down a strand of her silver hair. "Someone told me what was happening. You don't have to endure that from anyone, Celia. Ever."
Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. "I thought maybe I really was worthless like he said. That I was letting everyone down."
The casual cruelty of those words, spoken in my sister's innocent voice, made that cold rage stir again. Gareth was lucky indeed that I'd prioritized Celia's wellbeing over my desire for revenge.
"You are not worthless," I said firmly, placing my hands on her shoulders. "You're my sister. You're brave and kind and stronger than you know. Don't ever let anyone convince you otherwise."
She nodded, finally letting a few tears fall. "I was scared to tell anyone because I thought they wouldn't believe me."
"I will always believe you," I promised, pulling her into a gentle hug. "And I will always protect you. That's what family does."
We stayed like that for a long moment, finding comfort in each other after the storm had passed. Eventually, Celia pulled back and wiped her eyes.
"Will I get a new sword instructor?" she asked.
"Yes. And this time, Mother will choose someone who knows that teaching means helping you grow, not tearing you down."
Speaking of Mother, I had my own conversation that needed to happen.
I found Mother in her study an hour later, after making sure Celia was settled with her favorite maid and some honey cakes. The door was already slightly ajar when I approached, as if she'd been expecting me.
"I wondered when you would come," she said calmly as I entered, not looking up from the letter she was reading.
"It was you," I said without preamble. "You chose Sir Gareth deliberately. You knew what kind of man he was."
Mother set down her pen and met my gaze directly. "Yes."
The simple admission hung between us. I studied her face, looking for signs of regret or justification, but found only the same composed strength she always displayed.
"Was it to test me?" I asked.
She sighed softly, and for just a moment, something that might have been weariness flickered across her features. "Yes. Though I hoped it wouldn't be necessary."
I felt understanding dawn, along with something like relief. This hadn't been cruelty or neglect - it had been strategy, executed by someone who saw a bigger picture I didn't yet understand.
Without a word, I crossed to her desk and wrapped my arms around her in an embrace that clearly caught her off guard. She stiffened at first, perhaps expecting anger or accusations, but gradually relaxed into the gesture.
"It must have been difficult," I said quietly. "Choosing someone you knew would hurt Celia, even knowing it was necessary."
Her voice was softer than I'd ever heard it when she finally spoke. "It was the hardest decision I've ever made as a mother. Every day, watching her struggle, seeing her spirit dim... I wanted to intervene a dozen times."
"But you didn't, because the test would have been meaningless," I finished. "You needed to know I would act when it truly mattered."
"Yes." The word was barely a whisper.
I pulled back to meet her gaze, seeing vulnerability there that she rarely showed. "I'm not angry with you, Mother. I understand why it had to be this way."
Relief flickered across her features, followed by something that looked like pride. "You're far too mature for your age, Lance."
"Perhaps. But that maturity comes with understanding." I straightened slightly. "I'm sorry you had to bear this burden because of me, Mother."
She reached up to cup my face gently. "It's not your fault, Lance. And I'm sorry I couldn't find a better way."
"You don't need to apologize," I said. "But I won't tell Celia. She'll understand one day when she's ready, but not yet."
Mother nodded, relief clear in her expression. "Thank you," she whispered, pulling me close again. "My little genius."
'Little genius,' I thought as I hugged her back. The truth was, I still had years of growing ahead of me before I could shoulder any real responsibility. For now, all I could do was wait, grow stronger, and prepare for whatever challenges lay ahead.
Mother didn't leave Sir Gareth's disgrace at mere dismissal. Within days, word spread throughout the duchy and beyond about the former Royal Guard Captain who had been thoroughly humiliated by a six-year-old heir. His reputation was systematically dismantled, his connections severed, his standing in noble circles reduced to nothing.
It was a reminder of the power Mother wielded and a testament to the lengths she'd go to protect our family.
Soon, our lessons expanded beyond etiquette and combat. New tutors arrived to teach us politics, geography, and the intricacies of noble society. Mother was clearly preparing us for a larger world beyond the estate's walls.
Soon, the entire Empire knew of the prodigy of Silvaria who had bested a former Imperial Knight.