The training grounds had fallen silent.
Not ordinary silence.
The kind of silence that only appeared when something impossible happened before one's eyes.
Snow drifted from the heavens.
Cold winds swept across Frostbound Coast.
The distant sounds of construction and commerce continued beyond the mansion walls.
Yet within the training grounds...
Nobody moved.
Nobody spoke.
Nobody even remembered to breathe properly.
Because ten crimson swords floated behind Lyra.
Ten.
Not Aura Swords.
Not Magic Swords.
Not enchanted weapons.
Blood Swords.
Weapons forged from her own blood.
Weapons born from her own understanding.
Weapons that represented her path.
They orbited around her like a crimson constellation.
Like stars circling their center.
Like servants attending their sovereign.
Beautiful.
Terrifying.
Magnificent.
And every knight present understood one thing.
They had just witnessed history.
Gareth's POV
Captain Gareth stood frozen.
The veteran warrior had seen many things throughout his life.
Monster invasions.
Wars.
Massacres.
Heroes.
Failures.
Yet nothing compared to what he saw now.
His weathered hands slowly tightened.
The old knight stared at Lyra.
Then at Kel.
Then back at Lyra.
Understanding slowly dawned.
At first...
He thought this duel existed for the three Experts.
Then he thought it existed to test Lyra.
Now he realized both assumptions were wrong.
Kel had orchestrated everything.
Every step.
Every battle.
Every defeat.
Every victory.
The three Experts becoming Masters.
Lyra finding her path.
Everything.
The realization sent chills through Gareth.
Not fear.
Respect.
The veteran knight slowly looked toward his young lord.
Kel stood calmly.
Watching.
Waiting.
As though everything unfolding before him had always been inevitable.
Gareth smiled bitterly.
"Just how far ahead are you seeing..."
The old knight whispered.
Nobody answered.
Knight Rowan's POV
Rowan was twenty-three years old.
Young.
Talented.
Ambitious.
He had joined Frostbound Coast four months ago.
And ever since Kel arrived...
His understanding of reality had continuously shattered.
The glowing roads.
The monster domestication program.
The sea development.
The mana crystal mines.
The administration reforms.
Every month brought another miracle.
Yet somehow...
This felt different.
Because this wasn't infrastructure.
This wasn't economics.
This wasn't governance.
This was swordsmanship.
His field.
His dream.
His future.
The young knight stared at Lyra's crimson swords.
Then remembered Kel's words.
"The strongest sword art means nothing if it doesn't suit you."
At the time...
He hadn't understood.
Now he did.
Completely.
Lyra wasn't copying Kel.
She wasn't becoming another Kel.
She was becoming herself.
Rowan suddenly felt embarrassed.
Because for years...
He had spent his time copying others.
Trying to imitate famous knights.
Trying to imitate heroes.
Trying to imitate legends.
Perhaps...
He had been wrong.
The realization struck deeply.
For the first time.
The young knight began asking himself a question.
"What kind of swordsman do I want to become?"
Knight Brann's POV
Brann had a much simpler thought.
He stared.
Then stared harder.
Then pointed.
Then spoke.
"...Can I do that?"
The knight beside him looked over.
"Do what?"
Brann pointed harder.
"That."
"..."
"..."
"No."
Brann nodded.
"Yeah."
Another pause.
"Me neither."
Both continued staring.
Neither understanding anything.
Yet both completely convinced it was amazing.
The Three New Masters
The three men standing opposite Lyra experienced something entirely different.
Fear.
Not terror.
Not panic.
The pure fear warriors felt when witnessing something beyond expectation.
The silver-haired Master slowly exhaled.
His breakthrough.
His achievement.
His pride.
All of it had happened mere moments ago.
Yet now...
None of it mattered.
Because the woman before him had just created something entirely new.
The second Master swallowed.
His instincts screamed.
Danger.
Danger.
Danger.
Not because Lyra was stronger.
Because she was evolving.
Right now.
In front of them.
The third Master smiled.
A genuine smile.
Because after decades of swordsmanship...
He finally understood something.
Breakthroughs weren't destinations.
They were beginnings.
The Veteran Knights
Several older knights stood together.
Unlike younger soldiers.
They weren't excited.
They were disturbed.
One veteran finally spoke.
"Did you notice it?"
The others nodded.
"Yeah."
Another.
"The moment she understood."
The third nodded.
"Everything changed."
A pause.
One veteran slowly looked toward Kel.
"That boy."
Another veteran corrected him immediately.
"That Count."
Silence followed.
Because nobody could call Kel a boy anymore.
Not after witnessing this.
Not after everything he had done.
The Knights Who Trained Under Kel
This group had the strongest reaction.
Because they recognized the pattern.
The exact same pattern.
One knight laughed.
Another sighed.
A third shook his head.
The fourth looked traumatized.
The younger knights looked confused.
Eventually one asked.
"What?"
The traumatized knight answered.
"He's doing it again."
"What?"
"Creating monsters."
The younger knights blinked.
The veteran continued.
"First Gareth."
Another.
"Then the expedition force."
Another.
"The administration."
Another.
"The researchers."
Another.
"The merchants."
Another.
"And now Lyra."
The younger knights stared.
Then slowly nodded.
Because somehow...
It made sense.
Gareth's Officers
A group of officers stood near the back.
Unlike ordinary knights.
They paid attention to leadership.
Planning.
Strategy.
The battle itself wasn't what fascinated them.
It was Kel.
One officer spoke quietly.
"Do you think he planned this outcome?"
Another immediately replied.
"Obviously."
The first frowned.
"No."
A pause.
"I mean this exact outcome."
The group became silent.
Then one officer answered.
"...Probably."
Nobody liked how believable that sounded.
The Knights Who Joined Because of Money
Not every knight had joined for glory.
Some joined for salary.
Some joined because they needed work.
Some simply wanted food and shelter.
Yet even these knights found themselves affected.
One young soldier stared at Lyra.
Then at Kel.
Then slowly whispered.
"I think I understand now."
His friend looked over.
"Understand what?"
The young knight smiled.
"Why everyone follows him."
No further explanation was needed.
Kel's Personal Guards
The guards assigned closest to Kel remained quiet.
Because they had witnessed more than anyone.
They had watched him build Frostbound Coast from nothing.
They had watched him work day and night.
They had watched him ignore sleep.
Ignore comfort.
Ignore praise.
The sight before them only confirmed what they already believed.
Their Lord wasn't merely developing a territory.
He was developing people.
And somehow...
That seemed infinitely harder.
Seiren's Perspective
Far away.
Beneath the ancient waters of Scarder Lake.
Seiren observed everything.
The ancient Guardian smiled softly.
Unlike the knights.
Unlike Gareth.
Unlike Lyra.
She wasn't watching the blood swords.
She wasn't watching the Masters.
She wasn't watching the battlefield.
She was watching Kel.
The young Count stood quietly.
No celebration.
No pride.
No excitement.
Only calm observation.
As though he had merely planted a seed.
And watched it bloom.
Seiren's voice echoed through his mind.
"You knew."
Kel remained silent.
"You knew she would find her path."
A pause.
Then Kel answered.
"No."
Seiren blinked.
"No?"
Kel's eyes remained on Lyra.
"I only knew she was looking for one."
The Guardian smiled.
Because somehow...
That answer sounded even more impressive.
Back on the training grounds.
Nobody noticed.
Nobody understood.
Nobody realized.
That they weren't merely witnessing Lyra's breakthrough.
They weren't merely witnessing three Masters.
They weren't merely witnessing a battle.
They were witnessing the birth of something much greater.
A new path.
A new constellation.
A new future.
And every knight present would someday tell this story.
Again.
And again.
And again.
The day the Guardian of Frostbound Coast stood drenched in blood.
The day ten crimson swords appeared.
The day three Experts became Masters.
And the day everyone present realized...
Their Lord's greatest talent was never swordsmanship.
Never magic.
Never politics.
Never strategy.
It was seeing what people could become before they saw it themselves.