In the capital city, Deldi. Royal palace.

"Ice," Edward said as he swung his sword down with force.

Boom!

The knight he was sparring with blocked the strike without much trouble and struck back at once.

Edward jumped back several steps. As he moved, he began to chant.

His voice was calm, but his eyes were sharp.

Frost gathered in the air before him, and long ice spears slowly took shape.

"Magic Arsenal, first form," he said quietly.

Edward waved his hand forward.

The ice spears shot ahead at frightening speed.

"Ice Spears."

Boom. Boom. Boom.

The knight raised his shield again and again.

Each impact pushed him back across the ground.

Cracks spread under his feet. One spear slipped past his guard and cut his cheek.

A thin line of blood appeared, bright against the cold skin.

Edward did not stop.

He rushed forward, sword raised high, his steps fast and steady.

The knight tried to focus on the sword, but the ice spears kept coming.

His breath grew uneven. Panic flashed in his eyes.

When Edward's sword was about to fall, the knight dropped his weapon and shouted, "I give up!"

The ice vanished at once.

Edward stopped his strike mid-air and lowered his sword.

After the knight gave up, Edward sheathed his sword and said, "It was a good match."

The knight nodded.

"It's getting harder and harder for me to keep up now that you've reached the peak of the fifth star," he said with a smile.

The knight looked ordinary, but a strong aura flowed from him.

It was the aura of a Swordmaster. He was clearly in the early stage.

Edward smiled back. "You could have used your intuition," he said.

The knight shook his head. "You didn't use yours either."

Hearing that, Edward sighed. "Alright. I'll see you tomorrow, Sir Rokan."

"Yes," the knight replied.

After that, Edward picked up his belongings and walked out of the training ground.

The sounds of clashing steel faded behind him as the cool air of the capital brushed against his face.

It had been five years since Edward came to the royal palace to learn magic.

Now he was sixteen. In just five years, he had changed a lot.

Not in a way that made him hard to recognize, but in a way that showed clear growth.

If Vivian saw him now, he would feel as if he was looking at his own reflection from the past.

Edward looked almost the same as Vivian did at sixteen or seventeen.

The only real difference was his hair.

Edward had white hair, just like their father.

His sharp blue eyes, his face, even his expressions were the same.

If sixteen-year-old Vivian stood beside Edward, most people would think they were twins.

Still, Edward had grown into a fine young man.

He was handsome, but his true value was not his looks.

His talent and effort went far beyond that.

At such a young age, he had already mastered every five-star magic spell.

His sword skills were also highly polished.

Even many veterans would struggle if they faced him in a fair fight.

And just now, he had defeated an early-stage Swordmaster without much trouble.

Of course, part of this came from walking two paths at once, magic and swordsmanship.

But reaching such a level in both at such a young age showed just how special this boy was.

If someone reached the fifth star as either a mage or a swordsman, they would be called a once-in-a-generation genius.

Edward, however, had reached the peak of the fifth star at only sixteen.

He had even mastered all magic up to the fifth star.

That was truly rare.

Reaching this stage was not easy. Some of the credit also belonged to his teachers,

Vikram and Esabella. They had poured their time, effort, and care into training him.

Three years ago, Vikram left the royal palace.

He was sent to the eastern border, where the Zakir Empire was causing unrest.

One year ago, Esabella was also sent there, as the number of soldiers gathering in the east was rising day by day.

Before they left, Vikram arranged for Sir Rokan Salen, an early-stage Swordmaster, to spar with Edward.

Esabella, on the other hand, left behind all her spell notes up to the Archmage level so Edward could continue studying on his own.

"I should be able to reach Swordmaster in just a few months," Edward muttered as he walked out of the corridor and into the open field.

The cold of winter greeted him at once.

Edward lifted his head and looked at the sky.

Gray clouds drifted slowly above.

He stood there for a while, then spoke again in a low voice.

"It's been three years since I last saw my brother."

He let out a slow sigh. The last time they met was three years ago.

After that, his brother stayed around for one more year, and then he vanished. No letters.

No news. He went somewhere no one could explain.

"Sister said he went to buy a wedding dress for her…" Edward muttered, recalling Charlotte's words.

She had said it calmly, but her face told a different story.

Edward could tell she was lying. Still, he did not question her.

If she chose not to speak, it meant she could not. And Edward knew how much Charlotte cared for his brother.

So he let it go.

If she could live peacefully with Elena, then his brother must be safe.

Otherwise, Charlotte would never be this calm.

"It's probably because of mother," Edward thought.

He knew how strict and extreme his mother could be.

If she knew her son was doing something reckless, she would never allow it.

To ease her worry, Charlotte might have lied.

Edward closed his eyes for a moment as the cold wind passed again.

Wherever his brother was, he hoped he was still walking his own path, just as stubborn as ever.

Sighing again, Edward started walking.

He headed toward his research room, which was also his bedroom.

His steps were calm and steady.

After walking for a while, he reached the door to his room and pushed it open.

The room had been given to him so he could study and research magic.

But in truth, he did not use it much for that purpose.

He had no real interest in creating new spells.

He learned magic mainly because it gave him strength, and also because of his brother.

When Esabella first suggested taking him as her disciple, Edward noticed how much his brother wanted him to learn magic.

So he agreed. Looking back now, that choice could not have been better.

Even though Edward was only at the fifth star, he could defeat an early-stage Swordmaster.

That alone proved that everything he went through was worth it.

With these thoughts in mind, Edward walked inside and went straight to the bathroom.

After some time, he came out. His hair was damp, and he slowly dried it with a towel.

He had clearly taken a bath to wash away the sweat and fatigue of the day.

He then walked to his bed and let himself fall onto the mattress.

The bed sank slightly under his weight.

Edward stared at the ceiling, his mind slowly calming down.

"After I reach Swordmaster, I will return to the estate," he muttered softly.

With that thought, he closed his eyes.

He could have returned home one year ago, when Esabella left the palace.

But the emperor, Gray von Indrath, suggested otherwise.

He said that since Charlotte, his daughter, was staying at the Zenithara estate, Edward should remain in the capital for now.

If Edward returned only after reaching Swordmaster, it would feel like a true achievement, something worth all those years away from home.

After thinking it over, Edward decided to stay until he reached that level.

There was another reason as well.

Edward did not want to disappoint his brother.

His brother had reached Swordmaster at the age of fifteen.

At the very least, when they met again, Edward wanted to be an early-stage Swordmaster too.

He wanted his brother to look at him and feel proud, knowing that his little brother had walked a similar path.

As these thoughts filled his mind, Edward's eyelids slowly grew heavy.

Without realizing it, he drifted into sleep.

A few hours later, when the sunlight turned a soft yellow, Edward's eyes snapped open.

"Ah… I fell asleep?" he muttered. "What time is it?"

He turned his head toward the wall, where a clock hung beside his cloak.

"5:10 in the afternoon.."

Edward sighed as he stared at the time.

Then his eyes widened slightly.

"When did she say she would come?" he muttered, trying to remember.

"Ah, six… damn it, I'm late." he let out a hurried gasp as he frowned.

He quickly got up from the bed and rushed toward the bathroom again, his movements hurried as he prepared himself.

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