Chapter: Winds of Dawn, Sparks of Power
Dawn spilled softly across the ancient towers of Skyster Castle, painting its spires in shades of molten gold and silver-blue. The marble corridors bathed in the interplay of moon's retreat and sun's gentle rise glowed with an otherworldly calm. Veins of magic within the walls shimmered faintly, like starlight caught in stone.
Inside the master chamber, nestled among silken sheets and the lingering scent of lavender and rose, Dian Skyster stirred.
His eyes fluttered open—no system alert, no danger. Just warmth.
One glance was enough to slow his heart with affection.
Suzine and Gianna lay tangled against him, arms draped over his chest, their breaths syncing softly with his. Peaceful. Satisfied. Their lips wore faint, sleepy smiles. Dian's gaze lingered.
He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to each of their foreheads.
"Sleep well, my hearts," he whispered.
Rising slowly, careful not to wake them, he slipped from the bed. The cold air kissed his bare skin. He moved through his routine with quiet precision—freshening up, dressing in light gray training clothes devoid of enchantments. Today was different..
Today was for his training. First ever.
---
The castle halls whispered silence as he walked, his boots echoing against runed floors, the scent of dew and lilac drifting in through stained-glass windows. He moved through the east wing, then down the spiral stairs, until he emerged into the fresh light of the estate's open training grounds.
It was vast.
Surrounded by marble columns etched with warding runes, the training ground was half encircled by trimmed hedges and cherry blossom trees. Soft grass padded the ground beneath a sky that slowly turned from violet to blue. A crystalline lake shimmered just beyond the fencing, and elemental dummies stood frozen at one end like waiting foes.
Jones was already there.
The loyal butler stood in his crisp black tunic, arms folded, short white hairs. His eyes brightened when he saw Dian.
He bowed deeply. "Young Lord."
Dian offered a warm smile. "Jones."
The butler opened his mouth to speak—likely about the training—but Dian raised a hand.
"Before that... I need to tell you something."
Jones blinked, straightening.
"I'm already awakened."
Jones's brows shot up.
"Not just that," Dian added, stepping into the training ring. "I'm now a Supreme Class Mage. Second Stage."
Jones froze.
Then his face twisted into disbelief. "Forgive me, my lord—but that's... impossible."
"Sense for yourself."
The butler hesitated, then extended his senses forward, his gaze narrowing. As he probed, his expression changed—first surprise, then outright shock.
"By the Ancients... It's true."
Dian gave a modest shrug. "After recovering from the poison... something changed. I think my mana was stabilizing during that time. I advanced without even realizing."
Jones stared at him in silence for a moment, then slowly nodded, a quiet respect settling into his features.
He didn't ask to keep it secret. He didn't need to. Loyalty had long stitched their bond.
"Then allow me to match you accordingly," Jones said, pulling off his coat. "I will limit myself to Supreme Class only—adjusting to First, Second, or even Third Stage depending on your progress."
Dian nodded, stepping into stance. "Let's begin with physical combat. I need to solidify my foundation."
Jones grinned faintly. "As you wish."
The two lunged.
Their limbs moved in flurries—Dian striking first with a swift punch, which Jones easily dodged. The butler's counter came quick, a chop toward Dian's shoulder that he barely deflected. Sweat gathered on his brow within minutes.
Dian's footwork was too wide. His timing was slow. But he adapted.
Every mistake sharpened him.
He pivoted and launched a spinning kick—Jones ducked, but not by much. Dian's stance was low, tight, focused now. He jabbed forward with an elbow; Jones caught it mid-air and twisted, sending Dian off balance. But instead of falling, Dian rolled, recovered, and swept low with a leg, aiming for Jones's knee.
The butler leapt above it.
Dian rose instantly, throwing a one-two punch combo, this time with proper weight behind it. Jones blocked, but he stepped back.
Progress.
They exchanged strikes again—fists clashing, knees meeting forearms, blocks turning into counters. Dian grunted as a palm strike hit his ribs, but he retaliated with a feint, elbowing Jones's side.
"Good," Jones muttered, parrying the next blow. "You're learning to read motion. Not bad for a noble."
Dian smirked. "Not just a noble."
He ducked, tackled Jones mid-lunge, and slammed him onto the grass—only for the butler to roll and reverse their positions in seconds.
"Too slow," Jones whispered.
Dian gritted his teeth, twisted, and kicked free, flipping back to his feet. They clashed again, fists flying. Dian aimed high, then low, then spun to catch Jones off guard. His attacks no longer sloppy. Predictable, yes—but cleaner. Sharper.
They continued for several minutes more, until Dian collapsed on one knee, breath coming in gasps.
Jones offered a hand, smiling with pride.
"Your stamina... it exceeds expectations for even a Second Stage Supreme Mage."
Dian wiped his forehead. "Guess I'm just built differently."
(Though he knew the reason— [Stamina stamina ], a passive skill from the system that boosts his stamina.)
Jones laughed softly. "Now, let's move to magical training."
Dian nodded, rolling his shoulders. "Before we begin... I never told you my elements."
Jones tilted his head. "That's right. What have you awakened, young lord?"
Dian smiled slightly. "Three elements."
Even that alone made Jones widen his eyes.
"Wind, water... and thunder."
For a second, Jones looked stunned.
"Thunder? That's... incredibly rare."
Dian nodded. "I know."
The Skysters were known for wind. Water was respected. But thunder—chaotic, wild, powerful—was awakened by only a few in an entire generation.
Jones exhaled deeply. "With that alone, you could enter the Royal Academy without question."
"That too, I know."
They began again.
First, mana control.
Dian extended his hands and flowed mana into his palm. The energy shimmered evenly—no trembling, no surging. His control was crisp.
"Good," Jones noted. "Now let's check reserves."
As Dian channeled deeper, his mana pulsed outward. Jones's eyes narrowed.
"...It's too deep. You're holding nearly twice what you should."
Dian said nothing. Bu he knew it was all because of his skill he purchased from system before— [ Mana Integration ], (Doubles host's mana).
"Let's move on," Jones muttered, shaking off his shock. "Elemental manipulation."
Wind responded instantly—cutting clean lines through the air. Water obeyed, forming hovering spheres. Thunder crackled, unstable but powerful, buzzing against Dian's fingers.
They practiced spells next—basic but essential.
Wind Blades cut targets cleanly. Water Bolts hit with precision. Thunder Orbs, though unstable, sparked with destructive promise.
Hours passed.
The sun climbed its arc, and sweat soaked Dian's shirt again. With one final push, he fired a tri-element combo: wind to disorient, water to bind, thunder to strike.
The dummies shattered.
And Dian collapsed backward onto the soft grass.
Breathless. Satisfied.
Above him, the sky shimmered in blue-gold peace.
He closed his eyes.
The road ahead was long.
But this…
This was the first step.
.
.