Vierna’s eyes followed the line of Albrecht’s finger to the weapon he had chosen for her.

  It was a blade. Long and narrow, its taper fine enough for a thrust yet with a subtle breadth near the guard that promised it could draw a cut just as well. The steel caught the light in a muted sheen, neither polished to vanity nor dulled by neglect. Its crossguard curved in a modest sweep of iron, unadorned, and the grip was wrapped in dark leather worn smooth from years of use.

  It had no gilding, no elaborate carvings, no flourish to catch the eye. Set beside the halberds, gilded axes, and wickedly curved daggers she had admired earlier, it looked almost pale. Overlooked.

  In that way, it was like looking at her opposite. The thing was ignored because it was ordinary, while she had been ignored because she was not.

  For a moment, she wondered if perhaps the sword understood that.

  “To be honest,” Albrecht said, “this sword was modeled after one from the Imperium.”

  Vierna glanced at him, surprised. That explained why the blade had felt… off, almost foreign in its balance.

  “They call it an Espada de Lado,” he continued. “It’s built for both fencing and dueling. Precision and control are everything to mastering it, and that’s exactly why I chose it for you.”

  Vierna looked at the sword again, her fingers brushing lightly over the worn leather grip.

  “I remember dueling a man who wielded one,” Albrecht went on. “He gave me a hard time. The way he moved was like a dance. He was always flowing and always striking the moment I left even the smallest opening.”

  “You had a hard time?” Vierna asked, genuinely surprised. After seeing how masterfully Albrecht had sparred with Halwen, it was hard to believe he had ever struggled in a duel. But the thought also struck her, if someone as talented as Albrecht could be pushed to his limits, then what would happen to her if she ever slacked off?

  “Yes. He used Grace-based enhancement to improve his movement, while complimenting it with offense spells and even some grenades. Most of his edge came from precision and control. That’s the kind of fighting I want for you.”

  It was there in the way his voice tightened slightly. If she could master the right enhancements, she might actually stand her ground out there.

  “But Albrecht,” she said, “doesn’t Arkenfaust enhancement still drain mana? Do I even have enough?”

  “You’ll be using Eidrecht-style enhancement,” he replied. “It’s far more mana-efficient, but it means memorizing the incantations and speaking them, internally or aloud, while in battle. It’s the only way you’ll keep up.”

  He gave her a small smile. “I’ll also teach you some low-level Eidrecht offensive spells. People don’t use them much anymore because they require the full incantation, but you don’t have the luxury of wasting mana on elemental firepower. I am not letting you depend on that alone.”

  Despite not being able to train in her elemental affinity, Vierna was glad. Glad that Albrecht had thought so far ahead about what her combat method would be. Learning Eidrecht spells, even low-tier ones, was enough to excite her. As long as it was magic, Vierna would do it.

  “Okay, Alb. I’ll use it.”

  “Good. I’ll let my blacksmith know. In the meantime, use this.” Albrecht conjured something into his hand—a wooden replica shaped exactly like the blade on display.

  “You can use the wood element too?” Vierna asked. A tinge of envy caught in her chest, sharp and sudden, like a thread snagging on an unfinished nail. Watching a genius at work turned envy and awe into a single, inseparable feeling.

  “Hehe, I’m multi-talented, Vierna. As you know, anyone can learn any type of magic. I’ve dabbled in almost everything.” Albrecht lift up his head in pride, “This stick is the same shape as the real one. I’ve matched the weight too. For now, you’ll use this. I’ll have someone make you a proper one since conjuration magic fades over time. This will probably expire sometime past midnight… though I am a talented conjurer,” he added with smug satisfaction.

  Vierna answered with a little smile, but he could see it, a little bit of playful annoyance, the kind that came from jealousy.

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  “I’ll balance swordsmanship and magic training during the day. At night, if your mana is still recovering, don’t force it — focus on muscle and footwork instead.”

  “That reminds me, Albrecht,” Vierna said. “Herr Halwen told me calling a spell’s name is how our body tells the spirit what to do. If that’s true for normal spells, then what makes Eidrecht different?”

  “You really didn’t miss anything, huh?” Albrecht smiled.

  “Eidrecht is your body micro-managing your spirit. Normally, calling a spell’s name only tells the spirit to form the spell. The spirit then has to figure out the structure on its own, and that thinking costs mana. Mana is the spirit’s stamina, so the more it has to think, the more stamina you burn. Eidrecht makes your spirit skip that steps. The incantation is your body giving the spirit exact instructions on how to form the spell’s structure, so it doesn’t waste energy figuring it out. In a way, you’re bypassing the effort the spirit would normally spend ‘thinking.’ That thinking is done by your physical body instead, which is why Eidrecht is so mana-efficient.”

  Vierna tilted her head. “So… normal spells make the spirit figure things out on its own, and Eidrecht is me doing the figuring so my spirit can save energy?”

  Albrecht smirked. “Exactly. You catch on quick.”

  “So, every time I cast a spell, I need to say the incantation like a poet?”

  “Haha, yes, at first. You can say it in your head, but it’s much harder. Splitting your focus in combat isn’t easy. Still, it’s possible to speak it internally rather than out loud.”

  Vierna’s eyes dropped to the floor. Relief came that she still had ways to use her combat spells, yet the way Albrecht explained it made Eidrecht seem less formidable than she had imagined. The doubt showed on her face, and Albrecht caught it immediately.

  “And in a way, Vierna,” Albrecht said, “high-tier Eidrecht is still used on the battlefield. Like the one Halwen uses. It’s dangerously lethal—honestly, I’m not even sure I’d know if I got hit by one. Herr Halwen doesn’t know how to hold back against a child. He’s ancient, isn’t he? You’d think he’d go easy on a young, delicate thing like me.”

  Hearing this, Vierna eased a little. If even Albrecht admitted Eidrecht at the higher levels was terrifying, then perhaps it was not as lacking as she had feared.

  “Well, you also tried to stab him in the ribs, Albrecht. And that Milky Way and Barnard’s spell? What if it hit him too?” Vierna shot back.

  “Haha, damn… there’s no winning against you, eh, Vierna?”

  Vierna stuck her tongue out at him, mocking him without saying a word.

  “Anyway,” Albrecht continued, “your basic Eidrecht spells will pave the way to higher-tier ones once your mana develops.”

  Vierna tapped the wooden practice blade against her boot, gaze lowered. The playful tone from earlier was gone. “Alb… do you honestly think I’ll ever have a large amount of mana?”

  “Vierna, Faintborn limits your innate mana. You were born with little, yes, but who said it cannot be trained?”

  She stayed silent, listening.

  “Trust yourself, and trust the procedures the facility is doing for you. I know it is cruel, they are experi—”

  “No, Albrecht. They are curing me.” Vierna’s voice had a weight to it now. Low, certain. It carried the kind of edge that warned him if he pushed the point, she might not stand it. Then, almost as quickly, the steel in her tone softened. “You’re right. Sorry I showed that kind of doubt. Sometimes I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  Albrecht did not comment further. He had forgotten how much Vierna believed in the facility. He did not want to intrude on her personal beliefs, so he simply nodded.

  Both Albrecht and Vierna walked back to the training room. He noticed her swinging the wooden sword he had given her, and for a moment, it felt like watching an ordinary child playing with a stick she thought was the coolest thing in the world.

  “Moonlight Sword: Thrust of Wooden Vow!” Vierna called out, mimicking the flourish of a magic sword technique.

  “Arghhh, you got me, my lady, right in my heart.” Albrecht said, clutching his chest with exaggerated drama.

  Vierna stuck out her tongue at him again, clearly enjoying the game. For a moment, they looked like any two children playing with sticks, ordinary and harmless. A sight that was supposed to be normal, yet felt rare here.

  They stepped into the room.

  “You’re back,” Lina said, seizing the chance to run from Halwen. “Please don’t leave again. Uncle was really scary,” she added, eyes still watery.

  “Awww, I wouldn’t want to leave you if I could help it, Lin,” Vierna said, patting Lina’s head. Lina simply closed her eyes and let herself enjoy it.

  “So, what weapon did you choose?”

  “Behold, a weapon so dangerous,” Vierna began, making a show of pretending to unsheathe it. “This blade is said to cut down a hundred Imperium throats in seconds, splattering blood everywhere.”

  Lina’s eyes widened. Whatever Vierna was about to reveal had to be impressive.

  “This,” Vierna said, deadly serious, revealing her wooden sword.

  “What?” Lina’s expression froze. “Albrecht, is this a joke?”

  “No, Lin. That wooden sword once belonged to Archmagister Gerthold Eisenwald, who famously conjured an entire fortress from timber alone during the Siege of Rotenbruck. The fortress stood for three days under constant bombardment before crumbling, and this very blade was the shaping focus he used.”

  “Wait, uhm… seriously?”

  “No, Lina, Albrecht is just teasing you, hehehe.” Vierna laughed.

  “Urghhhh, stop mocking me,” Lina groaned, crossing her arms with a glare that wasn’t nearly as intimidating as she hoped.

  Both Vierna and Albrecht smiled at her reaction, the kind of unspoken grin shared by two co-conspirators enjoying the same joke.

  Halwen stood from his seat, watching the three barely-teenagers banter and play. This was how it should be, children laughing with sticks instead of clutching real steel. The thought stirred a certain feeling in him, one he vowed to forget. Then it passed quickly. Such a day could only come when the Imperium was gone for good, and making Lina and Vierna strong enough to survive was part of ensuring that future.