The sitting room was bathed in the soft afternoon light filtering through large windows overlooking the garden.
Cassian sat on a plush armchair, his legs swinging in the air, too short to reach the floor. The Shoreless Sea floated lazily beside him, its surface rippling gently.
Across from him stood Captain Marcel, still in armor despite the peaceful setting. He held a small, ornate box in his hands.
"Young master," Marcel said, bowing slightly. "His Majesty the King has tasked me with delivering this to you."
He handed the box to Cassian.
It wasn't Marcel's first visit. In fact, he came often, always bearing a gift from Cédric.
Cassian took the box eagerly, his turquoise eyes sparkling with curiosity.
"What is it?"
"A dream box," Marcel explained. "When opened, it projects a dreamlike scene, like a living theater. This one contains a popular tale from the kingdom."
Cassian didn't wait a second longer. He opened the box.
Immediately, a soft light poured out. Translucent, colorful shapes materialized in the air above, unfolding into a miniature three-dimensional scene.
"Whoa…" Cassian whispered, awestruck.
It was a classic tale: a brave hero saving a captive princess from an evil ancient serpent. The figures moved fluidly, their actions accompanied by light music and a whispered narration.
The hero brandished his sword. The serpent spewed toxic mist. The princess reached for freedom.
Cassian laughed with delight, watching every detail with fascination.
"This is so cool!"
He reached out to touch the miniature hero, but his fingers passed through the projection like smoke.
His expression shifted instantly from wonder to disappointment.
Marcel, noticing the change, quickly explained.
"It's a highly valuable item, young master. Not everyone can afford one. Dream boxes are crafted by specialized magical artisans, and each tale must be hand-carved into the magical matrix."
Cassian looked up at him, absorbing the information.
A highly valuable item. Rare. Precious.
His understanding of the world grew slowly, piece by piece.
He closed the box gently, clutching it to his chest.
"Thank you, Captain."
Marcel nodded, visibly relieved that the gift was well-received.
Then Cassian looked up with a mischievous grin.
"Can we play swords now?"
Marcel sighed inwardly.
It wasn't the first time Cassian had asked. In fact, it had become a ritual with each visit.
The Captain always carried a sword, and Cassian had seen him fight the werewolf during the hunt incident. Since then, the boy was obsessed.
"Very well," Marcel said reluctantly. "Let's go to the garden."
He wasn't sure how to handle children. But the king had tasked him with overseeing Cassian's general supervision, and refusing simple requests seemed counterproductive.
They stood and started toward the exit.
But before they reached the door, Cassian stopped suddenly.
"Wait, I need my sword!"
The Shoreless Sea pulsed.
And something emerged.
A sword.
But not just any sword.
It was a long, elegant blade forged from glossy black metal that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. Red runes glowed faintly along the blade, pulsing like a beating heart.
And the aura.
The aura emanating from the sword was oppressive.
Marcel felt his blood run cold. Every combat instinct screamed danger.
In the room's shadows, the three Silent Circle members present, including Nathan, tensed instantly. Their hands instinctively reached for hidden weapons.
Ingrid, standing near the door, paled. She felt a crushing pressure on her chest, as if the air itself had grown heavier.
"NO!"
Marcel raised his hand immediately, his voice ringing with authority.
"We're not playing with that kind of sword!"
Cassian blinked, confused.
"Why?"
Marcel took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart.
"Because a real sword is made for killing, young master."
He gestured toward the cursed blade.
"Remember the assassins killed during the hunt incident. That's what a sword can do. It's not a toy."
Cassian looked at the sword in his hands, then at Marcel's serious face.
Oh. I guess he's right.
He hadn't meant to hurt himself or the Captain. It was just for play.
But he's being a bit dramatic, isn't he?
The Shoreless Sea reclaimed the sword, swallowing it back into its unfathomable depths.
Marcel sighed in relief, his shoulders visibly relaxing.
"We'll use the wooden swords as usual," he said firmly.
---
The garden was stunning under the afternoon sun.
Marcel, Ingrid, Cassian, the Manticore, and five humans stood in a grassy clearing.
The five humans were creations Cassian had summoned from the Shoreless Sea earlier. They looked like ordinary adults and only spoke when addressed. They obeyed Cassian's every command without question.
The king's spies were hidden here and there, invisible but present.
Marcel eyed the Manticore.
Usually, the beast stayed in Cassian's room. It only came out when Cassian asked the Captain to play swords.
The creature's gaze was fixed entirely on Marcel, its glowing eyes never blinking.
*This animal is cautious,* Marcel thought. *It's during these games that Cassian's most likely to get hurt.*
The Manticore was watching over its master.
"Captain!" Cassian called cheerfully. "I've been practicing a lot, like you told me!"
He innocently pointed at one of the five humans.
The man was covered in wounds. Bruises on his arms, a shallow cut on his cheek, a black eye.
Marcel's heart clenched, but he kept his face neutral.
He glanced at Ingrid.
The maid immediately looked away, ashamed.
At least she's fine, Marcel thought. Cassian's sensible enough not to do that to people who don't come from that water sphere of his.
He turned back to Cassian.
"Alright. Show me what you learned last time."
Without hesitation, Cassian raised his wooden training sword.
And mana began to envelop it.
A bluish, diffuse, glowing aura formed around the blade, creating a visible halo.
Marcel's eyes widened slightly, surprised.
*He reached this level so quickly?*
It wasn't something a child his age should be able to do. Even with intensive training, it took most people years.
Then he remembered he knew nothing of Cassian's origins to begin with.
Who knows what he really is?
"Well done, young master," Marcel said, drawing his own training sword. "That's impressive."
He enveloped his blade in mana as well. But unlike Cassian's, his aura was razor-thin, almost invisible, concentrated solely along the blade's edge.
"Now, tell me. How is our approach different?"
Cassian looked at the Captain's sword, then his own.
He frowned, thinking.
They both have mana… but…
He didn't see any obvious difference.
He racked his brain for a few seconds, then ventured a guess.
"Your sword's bigger, so you used more mana?"
Marcel gave a small smile.
"That could be considered a good answer. But it's not what I meant to explain."
He raised his sword so Cassian could see it better.
"There's a big difference between your sword and mine, young master. The goal of wrapping a sword in mana is to make it sharper."
He gestured toward Cassian's diffuse aura.
"If someone just pours mana around their sword without control, you get a diffuse aura, like a halo. That can have some useful effects: a blade slightly more resistant to impacts, increased force, sometimes an explosive burst on contact, a deterrent effect…"
He shook his head.
"But it doesn't sharpen the blade. It just makes a big energy hammer."
Cassian listened intently.
"To truly increase sharpness," Marcel continued, "you have to compress the mana into an extremely thin line, right along the blade's edge. It's like energy craftsmanship."
He raised a finger.
"Ninety-nine percent of the flow must be discarded. One percent remains, but perfectly concentrated. It requires extreme precision."
He lowered his sword.
"Otherwise, the aura scatters. Too much mana, and the blade vibrates and might even break. It also depends on the sword's quality."
Cassian nodded slowly, absorbing the information.
Marcel walked to a nearby rock, about the size of a barrel.
He raised his sword.
And sliced.
SWISH.
The rock split into two perfectly smooth halves, falling to either side.
Cassian's eyes widened, fascinated.
"Whoa!"
"That's the difference," Marcel said simply.
Cassian rushed to a piece of the cut rock, raised his mana-wrapped training sword, and struck with all his might.
THUNK.
The sword bounced off. The rock showed only a slight scratch.
Cassian's face fell, disappointed.
Marcel, seeing his expression, approached and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"It took me years to reach that level, young master. You've just started. You don't need to be disappointed."
Cassian nodded, but his mind was already racing.
*I have to reach that level. As soon as possible.*
The frustration he felt now bothered him deeply.
Thanks to powerful elixirs from the Shoreless Sea, Cassian had enhanced his body's ability to channel mana. His mana circuits were already more efficient than those of most adults.
But his body couldn't fully harness the elixirs' potential. He was still young. His circuits were new and not fully developed.
It was inevitable.
But thanks to the Captain, Cassian now faced a challenge he was determined to overcome.
His current goal: slice a rock with a simple mana-wrapped training sword.
I'll do it, Cassian thought with determination. I'll train until I succeed.