The day after our teacher arrived, training began.
The sky above the estate was still streaked with morning gold as Alicia and I stood silently in the courtyard.
Our wooden swords rested against our backs. My heart thumped in rhythm with my breath — slow, deep, focused.
Shinonome stood in front of us, arms crossed, her expression unreadable.
> "Tell me," she said calmly, "what is mana?"
I blinked.
> "Power," I said. "Energy inside the body."
Alicia added softly, "Something you channel to cast magic."
Shinonome nodded once.
> "Mana is part of it. But only part."
She unsheathed her blade slowly — a long silver weapon etched with faint glowing runes. With one smooth motion, she pointed it at the sky and whispered a word I didn't understand.
The blade lit up with blue fire.
> "This is not just a sword," she said. "It's a channel for the soul."
---
She planted the sword into the stone between us.
The runes along the blade pulsed as magic flowed into the ground.
Light spread beneath our feet — forming a glowing circle. Inside it, glowing silhouettes shimmered into view.
A swordsman.
An archer.
A mage.
A brawler.
A gunner.
They hovered above the circle like silent guardians.
> "In this world," Shinonome said, "mana is just the start.
How you shape it defines who you become."
---
She pointed one finger upward.
> "There are many Techniques.
Each one is a way to combine mana with the body… with instinct… with identity."
She gestured at each projection:
The Swordmage, casting spells mid-slash, burning the air with flame-tipped blades.
The Bowcaster, firing arrows made of pure soul energy, faster than the eye.
The Gunmage, etching time-warping runes into bullets.
The Fistwalker, turning their body into a weapon — every punch infused with explosive mana.
The Spellcaller, hurling storms, calling fire, bending the earth itself.
> "Some follow the old schools.
Others create their own.
But only one truth remains..."
She sliced her blade through the air.
> "You survive — or you don't."
The light figures shattered into particles.
---
We followed her to the side garden, where a crystal orb rested on a stand. She touched it gently, and an image flickered into the air — a mountainous volcano glowing with violent blue light.
Lava pulsed like liquid mana.
Waves of heat shimmered in the vision, but the energy felt alive — angry, ancient, waiting.
Alicia stepped back instinctively. I couldn't stop staring.
> "This," Shinonome said, "is the Mana Volcano.
The resting place of soul-forged weapons."
---
Her voice dropped to a whisper — as if afraid the mountain could hear her.
> "Long ago, warriors came here to awaken their true strength.
Not to forge a weapon…
But to draw it from their soul."
She looked directly at me.
> "Inside you is a blade only you can wield.
But it will not come easily.
You will have to bleed for it.
Suffer. Break.
And if your soul isn't strong enough… the volcano will take you instead."
---
Alicia's fists clenched. Her gaze hardened.
I didn't speak.
I just kept staring at that volcano.
> Something about it felt… heavy.
Like a memory I didn't have.
---
Shinonome turned, her cape brushing the grass.
> "You will not go there yet. You're not ready."
"Until then — I will break you and rebuild you."
She looked at both of us — one hand resting on her sword, the other pointing to the training ground.
> "Sword training. Mana control. Spell chanting. Body conditioning. Meditation. Every single day."
Then she smiled — and it wasn't gentle.
> "This is where the weak give up.
And the strong start crawling."
---
I felt my pulse rise.
I looked at Alicia. Her eyes didn't waver.
We stepped forward.
> This is it.
Not the volcano.
Not yet.
But this is where the path begins.
---