End of Inter-Academy Festival VI

The last day of the Inter-Academy Festival passed in a blur. It was a rare break, one I truly savored after facing Jack Blazespout in the main event. With our victory in the second-year division, Mythos Academy secured yet another festival-wide win, keeping its spotless record intact—a testament to why it was hailed as the greatest academy in the world.

The sixth-year division's result, however, was particularly striking. Sun Zenith, the lone Ascendant-ranker on stage, stood untouchable. Even if every sixth-year student had banded together, none could approach him. It had been over a year since his breakthrough, meaning he was well on his way to Immortal-rank, possibly only a few years off if his growth continued at the same incredible pace. A truly terrifying talent.

And yet, this was the part I disliked. People like him had the advantage of age, time to refine themselves into unbeatable monsters, a daunting reminder of just how long my road really was.

But as always, the morning after the festival brought its own troubles. My alarm clock wasn't what woke me; it was the relentless buzz of my phone, practically vibrating off my nightstand with notifications.

Articles. Hundreds of them. 

All about me, of course.

I scrolled through the titles, each one more nauseatingly cheesy than the last, making my head spin.

"Astral Heartthrob: Mythos' New Star Stuns the World and Steals Hearts!"

"Arthur Nightingale: From Swordsman to Heartbreaker—Youngest Astral Energy User in History!"

"Genius? Or Just Charming? Arthur's Talent and Allure Leave a Trail of Smitten Admirers!"

I pinched the bridge of my nose, groaning as I read on.

"Too Brilliant for His Own Good—Arthur Nightingale's Meteoric Rise at 16!"

"Festival Victor and 'Heart-Stealer Extraordinaire'? Young Prodigy Wows All (and Breaks a Few Hearts Along the Way)."

Each title was a testament to the media's knack for blending hyperbole and sensationalism, casting me as some irresistible heartthrob with an unparalleled gift. The mix of praise, exaggeration, and absurd romantic intrigue made me grimace.

"They're relentless," I muttered, scrolling through headline after sensational headline.

This world had its quirks, and gossip was one of them. News agencies here had astonishing freedom, which they wielded liberally. Influence could hold them back somewhat, but the allure of juicy stories was often too tempting to ignore.

'I just hope I won't have to deal with Leopold Astoria like I did those Radiant-rankers,' I thought, rubbing the back of my head. Leopold was famously protective of his daughter, Elara, and he wasn't one to take kindly to rumors—especially not ones tying her to someone like me.

The freedom these agencies enjoyed stemmed from their allegiance to the Tower of Magic in Slatemark, overseen by Tower Master Charlotte. A formidable archmage, she fiercely supported free speech and expression, shielding them from interference. An enigmatic figure, Charlotte was the youngest Radiant-ranker in the world, a title she held among others a decade older than her age, which also resulted in differing views from them.

'I'll likely meet her in a couple of years,' I thought, dismissing it for now.

There were more pressing matters at hand: the field trip loomed. I had to make my sword resonate before we left. I'd seen it before, with my father—though he'd never shown me directly. Last time he'd fought me without it, and I'd bested him. But his true power, when he wielded Sword Resonance, was something else entirely, though I was now stronger than him regardless.

Here at Mythos, every sword-wielding professor could at least make their blade beat with Sword Heart; Professor Valerie had reached Sword Domain herself, and Magnus Draykar had mastered the ultimate Sword Unity.

This was a level very different from ordinary art progression, amplifying the strength of techniques to an extraordinary degree.

I hadn't yet managed to imbue my sword with intent—an essential step I'd bypassed entirely to make my blade resonate, allowing me to use Astral Manifestation, a gift from Luna through Soul Resonance.

'Which means I need to become much stronger,' I thought, my gaze turning toward the horizon of what lay ahead.

Advancing toward the Wall.

Only a small fraction, perhaps one percent of Integration-rankers, ever breached the Wall. Yet, it wasn't the prospect of reaching it that troubled me. It was what crossing it truly required.

The formation of a Sword Heart.

Sword Heart went far beyond Sword Intent or even Sword Resonance. It wasn't something that could be forced or hastily achieved; it required a profound completeness of spirit and purpose. No matter how gifted, no swordsman with an incomplete Sword Heart could pass the Wall.

The Wall didn't just demand strength; it demanded that one's very essence be forged into something whole, something unwavering. This was why even the most talented could stumble at the Wall—they hadn't yet fully explored the depths of their talent, or what they were meant to become, before attempting to transcend and claim the power of the Ascendant-rank.

This was why Lucifer had struggled to form his Sword Heart initially, only succeeding with the Martial King's guidance during the summer after his fourth year at Mythos Academy.

Sword Intent was merely the act of channeling intent into the sword—an elevated way of wielding mana, but still a foundation.

Intent was the essence of a swordsman's approach, the fundamental expression of what their swordsmanship meant to them.

Sword Resonance took this a step further, allowing the blade itself to fully align with, or "resonate" that intent, creating a harmony between weapon and wielder that intensified each strike.

But Sword Heart?

Sword Heart was the transformation of mere intent into something greater—a Concept. A foundational principle that defined not only how one wielded their blade, but why. It marked a shift from action to meaning, turning swordsmanship into a personal doctrine, a purpose.

The formation of such a Concept was an incredibly difficult process, requiring a reimagination of oneself, a distillation and rebirth of one's entire being. It was not merely wielding a sword, but understanding exactly what it meant to carry one.

This transformation—reaching the level of Sword Heart—was also what initiated the first body metamorphosis, pushing one's physical form beyond natural limits and unlocking the ability to wield astral energy. The shift wasn't purely physical; it was an evolution that bridged the mortal and transcendent, allowing Integration-rank warriors to begin a true ascent.

Spellcasters had their own formidable path to Ascendant-rank, one as challenging and intricate as that of swordsmen. To achieve Ascendant status, a caster needed to undergo the same body metamorphosis. This evolution allowed them to wield magic at the level of 7-circle spells—arcane constructs akin to layered and condensed 6-circle spells, achieved through a process that the great mages called the "Fuller Method."

The Fuller Method was no simple stacking of power; it involved compressing, refining, and integrating lower-circle magic into a seamless whole, creating a spell that pulsed with boundless potential. With this mastery, a spellcaster could amplify their control and the potency of their spells in ways that defied conventional limits.

My aim was clear: not only to forge my own Sword Heart but also to master the art of 7-circle magic. Though it would mean walking two paths rather than one, it wouldn't demand two separate metamorphoses—just a more arduous journey. But the reward would be far greater than focusing solely on one route. Lucifer, and others before him, had chosen this dual approach, striking a rare balance between martial and arcane prowess.

Seol-ah, by contrast, likely wouldn't walk this path; her focus was the sword alone, a single-minded pursuit of mastery. And as for Jack, though he favored close-quarters combat, he'd always shunned martial arts. No, he was a spellcaster through and through, choosing to wield power from a distance or through sheer magical force.

But for now, I needed to focus on my blade more than on spells. I could afford no distractions from my path. The semester's end loomed—a final week of my second year at Mythos Academy.

'Best to make it count,' I thought, steadying myself.

Especially since the winter break will be a lot of work in order to get strong enough for the field trip.