"Supreme Horse Charge!"

The phantom of a horse appeared behind one of the trainees as their sword swept out a stampeding attack.

"HA!"

Unwilling to be outdone, the instructor split the attack into two and watched as it gradually turned into wisps of magic power. Then, their sword lowered until it was only inches away from the genius trainee.

"You've progressed well."

"You lousy piece of—"

Smack!

The blunt force from the instructor's backhand sent the trainee flying towards the scarecrow practice area.

Crack!

The genius trainee collided with a scarecrow that broke and slowly fell to the ground.

Thud!

In shock, the entire courtyard went silent.

The trainees remaining were the most devoted ones, either through vengeance or training masochism, and they all knew what drove the training instructor insane.

Broken equipment.

Specifically, his hand-made equipment being broken.

Seeing the scarecrow the instructor had made with his own two hands break at the base and fall was all it took for the instructor's eyes to turn red. With a swift kick, the trainee was sent flying away again as the instructor came over and analyzed the crime scene.

"The fibres have been ground to a powder. Even the wood has been slowly compressed from multiple punches. This couldn't be a single day's practice… this is a planned murder! Scarecrow murder!"

The trainees shivered at the thought. Then, they shivered again.

"Are those… weapon marks?"

The instructor muttered with a sliver of blood in his tone and marched to the weapon box. Like a bloodhound, the instructor tossed aside weapon after weapon until he drew out a sword with a long crack along its blade.

"WHO DARES USE THE TRAINING WEAPONS ON MY SCARECROWS!!! I POURED BLOOD, SWEAT, AND TEARS INTO MAKING THESE AMAZING TRAINING WEAPONS!!!"

"Ah!"

The instructor, now with hair rising in a fury, picked up a nearby trainee from the scruff of their clothing.

"WHO WAS IT?"

The trainee looked in silent fear. The grinding of the instructor's teeth made it apparent they weren't asking to smell the roses.

"It was him! Over there! He's the only one who's touched the training weapons lately!"

Thud.

The trainee dropped as the instructor craned his neck towards a calmly sitting man with crimson hair.

In direct opposition to the fury inside him, the instructor walked with a calm grace. One that turned into a sprint before stopping right at the man's feet.

"Boy. BOY!"

The instructor stabbed the wooden blade just millimetres before the man's feet, yet he didn't flinch. Instead, he was entirely focused on one thing: ignoring the instructor. Well, he was almost ignoring the instructor.

Cough! Cough!

A spray of blood escaped from the man's mouth and stained the instructor's carefully cleaned training uniform.

"Why, you little…."

The instructor had always held a short fuse of a temper. And, when the crimson-haired man's mouth parted in a slight grin, it was enough for steam to emerge from the instructor's ears.

Being ignored, then mocked, only added insult to injury as the instructor violated one of his own vital creeds. Harming a trainee.

It hurt him on the inside each time to do it, but why was it always the best solution?

"I'll teach you a lesson in responsibility—!"

A trace of killing intent, the instructor's only real threat, leaked from him, and he picked up the wooden sword. Behind him, the last glow of dusk was winking out, and slowly, darkness covered the courtyard.

Fwou!

Shink!

The blade stopped before the instructor could fully swing. Rather, there was only half a wooden sword left to swing.

The rest had been cut off.

The dull gleam of a rusty sword flashed and carved a thin line across the instructor's throat in the same instant. Then, the tip of the sword was steadied towards his neck.

But that wasn't where the instructor's attention was.

Eyes like condensed fire were being levelled at the instructor in such a way that he nearly missed the misty crimson form that was seeping out of the man before him.

"Don't make me draw my sword."

The feeling of cold, icy death being pressed against his neck sent shivers across the instructor.

At that moment, a single strand of the crimson form emanating from the man snaked along the sword and touched the instructor. The instructor felt like they were looking at a reaper. One who had come to trace its finger along his neck, deciding whether to grasp the last shred of life from him.

"Ah! NO!"

The instructor backpedalled on delayed instinct and ran. That's right; he directly ran, not even sparing a glimpse to the concerned trainees behind him. The only thought on the instructor's mind was to escape from the man before him as soon as possible and at whatever cost he needed to pay.

 

---

 

Novus watched the instructor run with a trail of tears behind him.

Idiot. But, he did release a skill for me.

Novus sheathed the rusty sword and pulled up the notifications he'd received.

"No."

"I don't care what it's called. It's mine anyway."

The sound of crunching paper made it into Novus' mind as a new word box appeared.

"Fine! I'll name it!"

The word box disappeared the next moment, and Novus was left shaking his head.

Sigh.

"Just name it Crimson Aura."

"No. Why would I—"

"Quit interrupting!"

Novus used one of the tricks Percival taught him and silenced the notifications to the edge of his vision. Unbeknownst to him, an announcement signalling the first silver-rank skill appearing on the island was spread out to the other players and caused a gossiping stir.

Meanwhile, the aura surrounding Novus receded into his skin and disappeared with an empowering feeling spreading across his entire body.

Novus' senses briefly drifted inwards as he felt the connection between his only mana drop and his Crimson Aura. Of course, he could cancel the connection at any point, and the skill would stop circulating.

Novus breathed in and felt the ambient mana chaotically flood towards his mana drop. He didn't direct it this time but rather let his mana drop urge the mana for him. It was less efficient, but at least this way, his Crimson Aura would form a self-sufficient cycle. At least, while it was dormant inside his body. Novus found that actively using the skill against the instructor had moderately drained the mana drop of its energy.

I didn't think one mana drop would be enough to power the skill. But, I suppose it is a simple enough skill. Mainly reliant on my soul to form, which I still can't sense. Even with my Divine Sense active.

Out of curiosity, Novus pulled up his new skills' descriptions.

 

 

 

Novus pondered for a moment on his Divine Sense skill. He even found it interesting how the system interpreted the skill.

The active effect was like a scouting ability, while the passive effect would aid in last-minute trap detection or defending against strikes in a close-range fight.

This training session was helpful. I don't think I'm ready for the guards yet, but outside of town should have some better opponents for me.

Novus pulled out his status window and compared it to what he thought he would need to face off against the guards.

 

 

The guards likely have the small increases in damage and attack speed from the various weapon and martial art masteries. I wonder what their aspects are like?

Novus thought hard on his aspects, and a new window popped up.

Novus' brows rose in curiosity before agreeing.

Ding!

Interesting.

Novus tried to see the sub-attributes of his soul aspect, but either there were none, or he couldn't access them. So, he resumed.

At some point in the training, Novus' attributes had fully recovered from death and even gained some experience. He guessed that his training had increased his Strength, Endurance, and Dexterity attributes. Meanwhile, condensing a mana drop had likely earned him an increase in Intelligence and Wisdom. As for Charisma…

Maybe frightening off the instructor raised it?

Novus couldn't be sure, but that felt like the correct reasoning. In fact, Novus didn't think he was quite that frightening in his human form, but apparently, the instructor thought otherwise.

My aura skill is a little intense, but any skill learned on the battlefield will be that way.

Novus was about to continue pondering until a subtle gurgling sound sent a sting of pain from his stomach. His unconscious smile over his newfound power was flattened as he clutched his stomach.

If I don't start hunting soon, this body may starve to death.

Novus chuckled at the thought of simply hunting until the hunger transported him to the church, but ultimately it wasn't worth it. Neither the berating priest nor the weakened aspects interested Novus enough to try it out.

With a light step, Novus rushed past the stumbling trainees and headed towards the outskirts of town.