Epilogue

|Gary|

"Gary, are you absolutely certain about this?" my father inquired, his gaze oscillating between me and my mother, whose countenance betrayed concern.

Affirming my resolve, I nodded, attempting to conceal the wellspring of excitement within me. This clandestine opportunity would enable me to train and nurture my primary core without the ever-watchful eyes of three silver-stage mages back home.

"He's merely seven years old," my mother protested, her voice tinged with worry. "And you propose sending him to the treacherous Beast Glades? Do you truly wish to endanger our only son?"

"Rest assured, Liza," my father interjected, seeking to assuage her fears. "Galliard shall accompany him."

A furrow formed upon my brow at the mention of Sir Galliard. I yearned to demonstrate my capability to handle this trial unaided, but I knew my parents would never sanction such an endeavor.

"Father, mother, allow me to propose a compromise," I ventured, hopeful of finding common ground. "If I achieve an AA-class rating in the examination, then I shall embark on this venture alone. Otherwise, Sir Galliard shall accompany me."

My mother hesitated, her reluctance palpable, but ultimately relented. "Very well," she conceded, her eyes reflecting her lingering apprehension. "However, you must visit us every few months, and your adventuring phase shall be limited to four years."

I accepted their conditions, cognizant of the challenges that lay ahead. "Fear not, I shall strive to bring you pride," I vowed.

My father nodded, delving into his spatial ring to retrieve a petite golden ring adorned with a central hexagonal gemstone of vivid purple hue. "Take this," he urged, extending it toward me. "It bears a protective enchantment and shall alert us should you encounter peril."

I scrutinized the ring intently, marveling at its intricate craftsmanship. "Thank you," I expressed sincerely, sliding it onto my finger. Though no discernible change befell me, I recognized the need to place my trust in my father's words.

Radiating confidence, I unleashed the aura of my solid orange core. "I stand prepared," I declared resolutely.

"And your newly commissioned sword is also ready," my father added, a knowing smile gracing his lips. "The blacksmith attested it to be the most formidable blade he has ever forged."

With a slight inclination of my head, I took my leave from the room, making my way to the designated guest quarters.

Stepping into the guest room, my attention was immediately captured by the presence of a robust man seated upon the couch. Clad in semi-formal attire, he possessed a long, slender blade fashioned in the semblance of a katana, securely sheathed beside him.

"Young Master Gary, your sword has been completed!" he exclaimed, rising to his feet with the weapon in hand.

Expressing my gratitude, I accepted the sword, deftly unsheathing it to unveil a blade of pure obsidian hue. The sword's equilibrium felt impeccable, even within the confines of my youthful and unseasoned frame.

"Does this sword possess a name?" I inquired with curiosity.

"The name adorns the side of the hilt," he responded, his voice filled with anticipation.

Gently rotating the blade, I read the inscription etched upon the hilt, murmuring the words softly to myself, "Dusk's Shadowfang."

"This blade was crafted from the elusive midnight steel, one of the rarest and most resilient metals known to humankind," the blacksmith elucidated. "The hilt has been coated in adamantium, the epitome of strength, while titanium forms the majority of its construction. The sword exhibits an exceptional capacity for mana absorption and shall undoubtedly complement your abilities."

As I inspected the blade, a sudden pang coursed through me, and I noticed a minuscule droplet of my own blood welling forth. "Ah!" I exclaimed, instinctively recoiling.

"Fret not, Young Master. The blade is merely forging a connection with you," the blacksmith reassured, his voice laden with reassurance.

The concept of bonding with blades was entirely foreign to me, prompting contemplation on whether only true masters possessed such ability.

Harnessing the power of my secondary core, I channeled all four elemental forces into the sword, igniting a resplendent cascade of vivid, celestial hues.

"This sword is amenable to all the elements that can be mastered," the blacksmith conveyed before gathering his belongings. "I must take my leave, for it grows late. My only desire is that you wield this blade with sagacity, Young Master."

Nodding in understanding, I watched as he departed, leaving me alone with the sword in my grasp. As I held it, an ineffable sense of perfection resonated within me, confirming that this blade was meant for my journey ahead.

_________________________________________________

|Lancelot|

"Come on, Rachel, let's push ourselves harder for the upcoming Three Races Tournament!" I urged, a determined gleam in my eyes as I encouraged my friend.

"Just give me a moment, you brute!" Rachel gasped, her hands resting on her knees as she tried to catch her breath.

Chuckling, I was unfazed by her choice of words, well aware of her spirited nature despite her noble upbringing. "You may be at the light red stage, but you have incredible potential. That's why we need to train even harder," I pointed out, hoping to ignite her motivation.

Her frustration apparent, Rachel's flushed cheeks conveyed her determination. "And you, Lancelot, are only at the dark orange stage," she retorted, her voice tinged with competitive fire.

Grinning in response, I appreciated her fiery spirit, but remained relentless. "That's precisely why we must practice relentlessly. Come on, let's give it another go."

Rachel swiftly conjured a powerful stream of water, launching it towards me with precision. In response, I deftly countered her attack, conjuring a shield of wind to deflect the oncoming torrent. "Now we're talking," I declared, relishing the surge of adrenaline as I prepared to engage Rachel in an intense training session.

___________________________________________

|Third Person|

Priscilla's gasp echoed throughout the room as she watched her daughter, Kathyln, awaken at the age of seven. Overcome with emotion, she ran towards her and hugged her tightly, unable to contain her excitement.

"What happened, mother?" Kathyln asked, rubbing her eyes as she looked around the unfamiliar room she found herself in.

"You've awakened, my dear! A genius has been born in the Sapin family!" Priscilla exclaimed, tears of joy streaming down her face.

Having studied magic and mana from a young age, Kathyln quickly understood what her mother was saying and smiled, returning the embrace.

Soon, news of the young prodigy's awakening spread, and the King and the young Prince arrived to witness the momentous occasion. The King's eyes widened in amazement as he saw the site, realizing the significance of what had just happened.

"A genius is born! A genius is born!" he cheered, his excitement palpable.

Curtis, Kathyln's brother, was initially confused by the commotion but quickly caught on. "My sister already awakened?! Incredible!" he exclaimed, a smile spreading across his face.