The sound of steel cutting through the air echoed endlessly.
Slash.
Slash.
Slash.
Lucian Pendragon stood in the center of the Pendragon training hall.
His long white hair clung slightly to his neck from sweat.
The simple steel practice sword moved through the air with ruthless repetition.
One swing.
Two swings.
Ten thousand swings.
The floor beneath his feet was covered with faint scratch marks created from weeks of relentless training.
Lucian stopped briefly.
His breathing was controlled.
Calm.
Even after hours of training.
He lifted the sword again.
"…Eighty-nine thousand."
The blade fell once more.
Slash.
Slash.
Slash.
For the past several weeks, Lucian had followed the exact same routine.
Wake before dawn.
Train.
Control mana.
Train again.
Eat.
Spar.
Train again.
Sleep.
Repeat.
No breaks.
No excuses.
The Pendragon estate had gradually grown accustomed to the sound of steel from the training hall.
Servants passing nearby often whispered quietly.
"Is the young master training again?"
"Has he stopped at all?"
Even the knights had begun noticing.
Sir Garrick, the captain of the household knights, stood silently at the entrance of the hall one morning.
Watching.
Lucian's movements were simple.
Basic sword forms.
No complex techniques.
Just endless repetition.
But Garrick noticed something disturbing.
Lucian's form was becoming perfect.
Each movement contained less wasted energy.
Each step became smoother.
Each strike carried increasing precision.
And Lucian was still only sixteen.
The knight shook his head slowly.
"…Monstrous."
Inside the training hall—
Lucian completed the final swing.
"…One hundred thousand."
He lowered the sword.
His arms trembled slightly.
But he ignored the discomfort.
Instead he walked toward the center of the hall and sat cross-legged.
Mana training.
Lucian closed his crimson eyes.
The air around him slowly began to change.
Mana gathered.
Invisible currents of elemental energy flowed through the room.
Lucian guided them carefully.
First—
Lightning.
Thin arcs of electricity danced between his fingers.
Unlike before, the lightning no longer behaved violently.
It obeyed him.
Every spark moved exactly where he directed it.
Lucian compressed the electricity into a small sphere.
Then split it into three smaller ones.
Then five.
Then ten.
Finally he dispersed them.
Next came fire affinity.
A warm glow appeared in his palm.
Lucian twisted his fingers slightly.
The flame stretched into a thin thread before forming several tiny rotating rings.
Then he extinguished it.
Ice affinity followed.
Cold energy spread across the floor like creeping frost.
Lucian shaped the frost into small crystalline spikes.
Then dissolved them.
One by one—
He repeated the process with every affinity he possessed.
Wood.
Blood.
Light.
Darkness.
Even the faint, unfamiliar Soul affinity.
Every day he pushed his control further.
The knowledge given by the dragon's authority made the process easier.
But Lucian deliberately limited himself.
He refused to rely on his EX-grade abilities.
No Precognition.
No Ultra Instinct.
No Copy.
He wanted his foundation to be built through effort alone.
"…Strength obtained without effort is unreliable."
Lucian opened his eyes.
Mana slowly faded.
The training hall returned to normal.
He stood up.
But suddenly—
A strange sensation passed through his body.
His muscles trembled.
His mind felt… sharp.
Sharper than usual.
Lucian frowned slightly.
"…What is this?"
Then he heard a voice.
A deep, ancient voice that seemed to echo from the depths of existence itself.
"You are pushing your mortal vessel to its limit."
Lucian's eyes narrowed slightly.
"…Dragon."
The massive presence of the Ancient Chaos Void Dragon stirred within his soul.
The air around Lucian seemed to distort faintly.
"Your discipline is… impressive."
Lucian remained calm.
"…Observation noted."
The dragon let out a low rumbling laugh.
"You refuse to rely on the power I granted you."
"…Correct."
"Why?"
Lucian answered without hesitation.
"…Because borrowed power is unstable."
"…If my foundation collapses, your power will become useless."
For a moment—
Silence.
Then the dragon spoke again.
This time with clear amusement.
"You think like a true predator."
Lucian ignored the compliment.
"…Why did you speak now?"
The dragon responded slowly.
"Because your body is approaching a critical point."
Lucian tilted his head slightly.
"…Explain."
"Your training has reached the threshold where instinct begins to replace thought."
Lucian understood immediately.
"…Ultra Instinct."
"Correct."
The dragon continued.
"Your mind is slowly adapting to combat perception beyond conscious control."
Lucian closed his eyes briefly.
So his relentless repetition had triggered the early stage of that ability.
"…Interesting."
The dragon added one final statement.
"Continue training."
Then the presence faded again.
Lucian stood alone in the hall.
"…So it begins."
That afternoon—
Lucian approached Sir Garrick again.
The knight immediately sighed.
"…Another sparring match, Young Master?"
Lucian nodded.
"…Full strength."
Garrick hesitated.
"You still haven't fully recovered from yesterday."
Lucian raised his sword.
"…Begin."
The knight exhaled slowly.
Then he moved.
His sword cut through the air with incredible speed.
But something different happened this time.
Lucian's body moved on its own.
Without thinking.
Without hesitation.
His feet shifted automatically.
His sword intercepted Garrick's strike perfectly.
Clang.
The knight froze.
"…What?"
Lucian didn't even realize what had happened.
His body simply reacted.
Garrick attacked again.
Faster.
Stronger.
Lucian dodged effortlessly.
Every movement flowed naturally.
Like water.
Like instinct.
The fight lasted nearly a full minute.
Which had never happened before.
Finally Garrick stopped.
He stared at Lucian with wide eyes.
"…What exactly did you do?"
Lucian lowered his sword.
"…Nothing."
But Garrick knew that was impossible.
Lucian's movements had become something else entirely.
Instinctive.
Predatory.
The knight shook his head slowly.
"…At this rate…"
"…You might surpass the young masters of the other great houses before the academy even begins."
Lucian simply picked up his sword again.
"…Again."
The knight groaned quietly.
"…You're terrifying, Young Master."
But he raised his weapon anyway.
And the training continued.
Day after day.
The Pendragon estate slowly realized something.
Their quiet young master—
The one who rarely spoke.
The one who trained alone endlessly.
Was becoming something dangerous.
Something far beyond a normal prodigy.
And the academy entrance exam was only a few months away.
By the time it arrived—
Lucian Pendragon might already be a monster in human form.