William tilted his head. "What is Severance?" he asked.
Ronan, standing in front of him, folded his arms. "A mana cultivation method… and the stages that mark our growth."
William's brow furrowed. "That's it?"
A faint smile tugged at Ronan's lips. "Not quite. Think of mana as a wild river — restless, overflowing, impossible to hold in your bare hands. In the beginning, you can only scoop a little before most of it slips away. But Severance teaches you to carve channels into that river, shaping its flow, cutting away the weak currents until all that remains is denser, sharper, more dangerous." He paused, his eyes distant. "And like a river that cuts through stone, once you change its course, there is no turning it back."
William's eyes lit up. "Exactly! We all gather mana in our core, but raw mana is just unshaped fuel. To actually wield it, we have to cultivate it — and through Severance, we can refine it into something far greater. Each stage changes its very nature. At First Severance, for example, mana can condense into sword aura — the first step in turning invisible power into a tangible weapon."
"There are six stages of mana cultivation," William said, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. "From First Severance to Fifth Severance… and at the very end, True Severance."
"There are three grades of mana cores — high, mid, and late," William explained. "Those born with a high-grade core can reach First Severance almost the moment they awaken it. For mid and late grades, it takes much longer… and their potential is far lower." He paused, his tone growing serious. "For them, reaching Third Severance is already extremely difficult — almost impossible. Yet," he added with a faint smile, "history tells of rare exceptions… cultivators with nothing more than a mid or late-grade core who still ascended all the way to True Severance."
"Do you understand now?" William asked.
Ronan nodded. "Yeah, I get it. It's a simple explanation, but… I was a bit confused when I heard that the first Sword Saint only had mid-grade talent."
William chuckled. "Fair enough. So… shall we begin our training?"
"Okay… and what are you going to teach me, Uncle?" Ronan asked, his eyes bright with curiosity.
"I'm going to teach you the foundation of a swordsman," William said, pausing for effect. "Footwork."
He leaned in slightly, his voice tinged with pride. "And the one I'm about to show you is the very same your father and I practiced."
"Which is it?" Ronan asked, his excitement growing by the second.
"Before I start teaching you, I have a condition," William said.
"What condition?" Ronan asked, tilting his head, one eyebrow arched.
William's tone turned grim. "You will not give up — no matter how long it takes. Understand?"
Ronan hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Okay! I'll bear that in mind," he replied with renewed enthusiasm.
A faint smile crossed William's lips. "Good… because the footwork I'm about to teach you is called… Mist Foot."
"...Mistfoot?" Ronan tilted his head sideways, clearly asking what it meant.
"Mistfoot is a footwork technique passed down through generations, famed for its incredible swiftness and seamless adaptability in combat. Do you understand?" William asked sharply.
"Understood, but Uncle, can you teach me the theory?" Ronan replied eagerly.
William nodded. "Yes, today's training wasn't too intense to begin with. Now that you've finished your physical exercises, you can get some rest."
"And take this book and memorize it," William said, handing over an old, worn volume titled Mistfoot by Krant Kael.
"Once you've memorized it, I'll go over everything with you in detail."
"Yes! I'll memorize it thoroughly," Ronan exclaimed enthusiastically.
William smiled and nodded. "Now go and rest."
"Okay, see you tomorrow!" Ronan called as he ran out of the training grounds, waving his hand at William.
William let out a quiet sigh, a faint smile tugging at his lips. Teaching him is… surprisingly fun. That boy's a once-in-a-generation genius, he thought, watching Ronan's retreating back disappear from the training grounds.
True Severance is rare… but he might just have the potential to reach it.
Shaking the thought away, William exhaled and murmured to himself, "Well, I should get back to my own training." With that, he turned and exited the training grounds.
******
"Have you enjoyed breakfast, sir?" Charlotte asked in a strange tone, her brow furrowing.
"Hmm?" I glanced at her, then tasted the meat. "The meat should be a bit more tender… and you should also start learning how to cook." I offered the advice casually, ignoring her odd way of speaking.
"Okay, sir," she replied flatly.
Grrrrrrr…!
A menacing growl suddenly rumbled from Charlotte's direction.
Ah, so that's it… I turned to her, and sure enough, her face was flushed crimson with embarrassment.
"Sigh… have you eaten?" I asked, exasperated at her foolishness.
"…No," she admitted in a small, embarrassed voice.
"Then sit and start eating," I said, keeping my face straight.
With a quiet hum, she slipped into the seat beside me.
"How many times have I told you that you don't need to wait for me?" I asked in a serious tone. She had been like this ever since she started living with me.
I sighed. "You should eat properly so that you grow into a fine young lady." I scolded her gently for not taking care of herself.
She bit her lip and muttered, "…You should always ask me whether I've eaten or not."
"Alright, now eat," I said, nodding at her as I finished the last piece of meat on my plate.
"..."
"Pass me the napkin," I said, taking a slow sip of the tea on the table.
"Here." Charlotte handed me the napkin, and I wiped my face after finishing the last of the tea.
"By the way, don't disturb me while I'm cultivating." I stood up from the table.
"Okay… and what if someone comes while I am not around?" she asked.
"You won't leave until I finish my cultivation. Understood?"
"Yes." She nodded obediently.
"Good," I said, turning away from Charlotte and making my way to the bed.
Today's cultivation should be enough for me to reach First Severance, I thought as I sat cross-legged on the mattress and closed my eyes.
Hmm? My brows lifted slightly. My mana core… it's more refined than it was a week ago. Excitement stirred in my chest.
I guided the refined mana within me, shaping it into the image of a giant sword in my consciousness. With a mental push, I drove it toward the wall that blocked my path to First Severance.
Creak…
A sharp crack rang out, and the wall began to groan under the pressure.
Hmm? Now that I think about it… should I take the gamble? The thought lingered. It might be dangerous, but with a sixty percent success rate, that's still in my favor.
Resolving myself, I began to breathe in a slow, systematic rhythm, drawing in mana from my surroundings. With each inhale, my mana core flared to life, instantly refining the energy I brought in.
"Yes… that's it! With this much mana, I can crush that wall to bits!"
Excitement surged through me. I quickly gathered the newly refined mana, shaping my imaginary sword to twice its previous size, and slammed it into the wall in my consciousness.
Creakkkk…
With a final groan, the barrier to First Severance shattered into countless fragments.
And then—
"Ugh…! W-what's… this pain?!" A guttural scream tore from my throat as an unbearable agony stabbed through me. It was as if my mana core was being ripped apart from the inside.
"Wh—what happened?!" Charlotte's panicked voice reached me as she burst into the room. "Why are you in so much pain?!"
Seeing me doubled over, her eyes filled with tears. "No… no, no…"
"I… it's okay. I'm fine," I forced the words out between ragged breaths.
"But you don't seem fine!" she cried, her voice breaking as she clutched my chest. "If you don't get treatment… something bad might happen!"
"Listen," I rasped, locking eyes with her. "If I faint while controlling this, you will not call anyone. Understand?"
"But—" She sniffled, voice trembling. "If you're hurt and—"
"No," I cut her off, my tone leaving no room for argument. "Nothing bad will happen if I succeed. And… even if I fail, there will be no consequences."
That was a lie. If I failed, my mana core would be destroyed.
Her tear-filled eyes searched mine. "Is that true? Nothing bad will happen… right?"
"Yes," I lied again. "Guard me until I'm done." I didn't wait for her answer.
I shut out everything else and focused entirely on my mana core. It was in chaos, but at least it wasn't the worst-case scenario. Regulating my breathing, I drew in every scrap of mana I could, concentrating it at my core.
Once I had enough, I wrapped the gathered mana around it and began to break away the outermost layer—peeling it apart with painstaking precision.
Th… this is…
A low chuckle rose in my chest. Hehehe… My mana core was transforming before my eyes.
"That's… it…" I whispered, savoring the moment. But before I could fully rejoice, a crushing wave of fatigue slammed into me, dragging me down into darkness.