Chapter 50: Cut Swift. Burn deep. End clean.
Ethan opened his eyes again, staring at his faintly glowing hand.
A low chuckle escaped his throat.
'This… this is it.'
With this, it was no longer theory. He could feel it. Crimson Edge — when empowered by this manipulation — would be something else entirely. A weapon that no one in his class could block, not even David.
And this was only the beginning.
Excitement surging through him, Ethan didn't stop there. He stayed in that chamber for hours more, repeating the process over and over.
Concentrating mana… dispersing it. Drawing it back… focusing it sharper.
His body ached. Sweat dripped freely. But he kept going.
Again. And again.
---
By the time he finally stood up, the system chimed once more:
---
┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓
•──────────────────•
[Mana Sensing Leveled Up —> Level 3]
[You can now sense ambient mana in the surroundings and track the flow within other living beings.]
[Your ability to gauge strength and detect hidden presences has increased.]
[Mana Manipulation Leveled Up —> Level 2]
[You can now manipulate ambient mana in the environment — boosting attack power and expanding your control range.]
•──────────────────•
┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛
---
Ethan stood there, chest heaving, hands trembling slightly from exhaustion — but his face was calm.
No… more than calm. Satisfied.
Progress.
Real, measurable progress.
'Gareth… you'll have no choice but to acknowledge me now,' Ethan thought, a thin smirk tugging at his lips as he wiped the sweat from his brow.
***
Ethan drew out the silver sword from its case, the polished blade catching the chamber's soft light. Unlike the blunt training sword he had wielded days ago, this one thrummed with potential. It was his prize from the Awakening Ceremony — a Rank 2 weapon, forged to withstand the violent currents of mana that lesser blades would shatter beneath.
Closing his eyes, he took a slow breath.
Mana stirred within him.
With practiced control, he directed the flow outward, channeling it into the sword's core. A faint hum answered him, resonating from hilt to tip. He didn't stop there — his grip tightened as he gathered more mana, weaving it into a dense layer that coated the blade's surface.
The reaction came swiftly. The silver metal trembled lightly in his grasp, a subtle vibration dancing along his fingers. Then, a soft blue sheen bloomed across the steel, like a flame without heat, mana overflowing in a controlled blaze.
Ethan's lips curled into a smile.
This—this was the reward of his hard-won [Mana Sense] and [Mana Manipulation].
Without hesitation, he stepped forward, stance steady, and raised the glowing blade. Time to push it further. Time to refine his technique.
First Form: Ember Slice
He swung in a smooth arc, precise and fluid. The light-blue aura trailed behind the blade like a crescent wave, splitting the air with a faint crackle. Mana gathered at the tip with every motion, making each transition sharper, faster. The hum of the sword deepened, feeding off the synergy between his movement and the mana around him.
Second Form: Burning Spiral
His wrists rotated, spinning the sword in a tight spiral. The blade's whistling cut through the chamber like wind, the glowing mana flaring brighter with every rotation. His arms strained, but the control was his — the sword no longer felt like dead steel but an extension of his own pulse.
Third Form: Inferno Sweep
Dropping into a low crouch, Ethan swept the blade in a wide arc. The mana-infused swing unleashed a burst of force that rippled outward, stirring the air itself. Dust scattered away in waves, pushed by the invisible pressure. He could feel the defensive power in this form — wide, dominating, meant to force opponents back.
Fourth Form: Crimson Lunge
Without missing a beat, he stepped forward, thrusting the blade with explosive force. The light-blue mana at the tip sharpened into a point of concentrated energy, crackling as it pierced forward. The strike was clean, swift — like a viper's fang darting out. A finishing move meant to end battles before they began.
His breathing quickened as he repeated the forms, over and over. Each time, the synergy deepened. The sword's glow grew more stable, its hum stronger. The mana around him no longer felt distant — it swirled with his every motion, like unseen threads being woven tighter around his will.
And with every strike, Ethan could feel it — the raw, surging power behind each motion.
It wasn't just theory anymore.
Every slash carried weight, enough that he knew… normal swords wouldn't even stand a chance against him now. They'd shatter on impact.
Even Rank 1 weapons — they'd barely hold up, able to block once or twice at most before giving out.
As for Rank 2 swords? That would depend on the wielder. A weak hand couldn't hold against him for long, but someone skilled might endure… for a time.
Ethan's lips curled into a smirk, heart pounding in his chest.
By now, he had long surpassed his peers. What he had achieved in a day — this mastery, this harmony between mana and blade — would take others months. Maybe even years.
Finally, after dozens of cycles, Ethan stilled.
He stood there, sword lowered, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.
A deep inhale… and then he exhaled slowly, eyes half-lidded.
There was a profound calm in him now — a quiet certainty.
'I've discovered the essence of the Crimson Edge technique.'
His gaze shifted to the softly glowing blade, and from somewhere deep within, the words came to him, unbidden, yet perfectly right:
"Cut swift. Burn deep. End clean.
Where the blade flows, all resistance breaks.
Where the edge falls, only silence remains."
The mantra settled in his mind like a brand.
This was the way of the Crimson Edge.
And from here on, every swing would carry that truth.
Done with that, Ethan brought out his phone and dialed the special number.
"I'm ready," he said, voice steady.
From the other end, Gareth's voice came through — calm, deep, and heavy with authority.
"...I'm curious as to how you plan to convince me."
Ethan's grip tightened on the phone, but his resolve held firm. He said nothing.
After a brief pause, Gareth spoke again, his tone cool and final.
"You'll receive word from me in an hour."
The line went dead.