The grand hall bustled with activity as nobles and dukes mingled, exchanging pleasantries and hidden intentions. The air was thick with tension and curiosity.

  Many of the noble families had heard rumors about Lucius Ardentis' duel against Darius. But what truly shocked them was the fact that he was a Third Circle Magic Swordsman at his age.

  A feat only a few nobles could achieve in their late 20s.

  For someone so young to reach that level… it was unheard of.

  And so, many nobles found themselves drawn toward Duke Magnus and his son.

  Duke Magnus, who had remained quiet throughout most of the gathering, now found himself surrounded by old acquaintances—former academy classmates, sparring rivals, and even old troublemakers.

  These were not just high-ranking nobles, but people who had once fought beside him, trained under the same instructors, and knew the weight of true strength.

  Among them were—

  A burly, broad-shouldered man with graying brown hair, dressed not in the refined robes of nobility but a smith’s tunic. His calloused hands and soot-stained sleeves revealed his true craft—the forging of enchanted weapons.

  By his side stood Liora Varnholt, his 15-year-old daughter. A wiry girl with bright hazel eyes, she wore a leather apron, her hands faintly stained with metal polish from her work in the forge.

  Cedric grinned as he approached Magnus, his deep voice booming.

  "By the gods, Magnus! Still brooding in a corner like in our academy days?"

  Magnus let out a faint smirk.

  "And you’re still wearing a smith’s tunic to a noble gathering."

  "Hah! And why wouldn’t I?" Cedric patted his chest proudly. "Unlike you, I don’t pretend to be something I’m not. Besides, I didn’t come here to impress nobles—I came to see if the rumors were true."

  His sharp blacksmith’s eyes turned toward Lucius, scrutinizing him as if he were a blade fresh from the forge.

  "So, you’re the famous Lucius Ardentis, huh?"

  Lucius gave a polite nod.

  "It’s an honor, Lord Varnholt."

  Cedric scoffed.

  "Lord? Bah. Just call me Cedric. Titles are for politicians, not warriors."

  Liora, who had been standing quietly, suddenly stepped forward, her sharp hazel eyes narrowing.

  "You’re a Third Circle Magic Swordsman, aren’t you?"

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  Lucius raised an eyebrow at her bluntness.

  "Yes, I am."

  Instead of being impressed, Liora frowned.

  "That doesn’t make sense. You’re too young."

  Cedric let out a loud whistle.

  "Heh… a Third Circle Magic Swordsman at his age? You’re right, Liora. That doesn’t happen. Hell, even the best knights only reach Second Circle by their mid-20s."

  Liora crossed her arms.

  "You must train like a madman."

  Lucius simply smiled.

  "Something like that."

  Cedric laughed.

  "Magnus, your son’s a monster."

  "I’m aware," Magnus replied calmly.

  Liora tilted her head.

  "What’s the mana flow like when you reinforce your strikes? Smooth, or do you force it through?"

  Lucius blinked at the oddly specific question.

  "Smooth. I guide it naturally through my veins before directing it to the blade."

  Liora's eyes lit up.

  "...That’s genius."

  She turned to Cedric.

  "Father, I need to forge something for him."

  Cedric laughed heartily.

  "You heard her, Magnus. Seems my daughter’s already taken a liking to your boy."

  Magnus smirked.

  "She’s got good instincts."

  The next noble to approach was Lady Mara Tildren, a renowned mage from Solmara.

  With raven-black hair and piercing blue eyes, she carried herself with an aura of serene confidence.

  Beside her stood her 16-year-old son, Kaelis Tildren—a lanky boy with sea-green eyes, his body faintly shimmering with mana.

  Lady Mara nodded toward Duke Magnus.

  "Magnus, it has been a long time."

  "Mara," Magnus greeted.

  Her eyes lingered on Lucius.

  "A Third Circle Magic Swordsman at this age… it seems the Ardentis name will soon be spoken in every noble court."

  Kaelis, who had remained quiet, suddenly spoke—his voice filled with curiosity.

  "Your mana control… it’s unnatural."

  Lucius frowned slightly.

  "Unnatural?"

  Kaelis narrowed his eyes.

  "Most mages force their mana outward. But you… your flow is too precise, too instinctive. It’s almost like…"

  He paused, his expression shifting.

  "...Like your body was born for it."

  Lady Mara chuckled.

  "My son is too observant for his own good."

  Kaelis didn’t look away.

  "You’re different from normal nobles," he muttered.

  Lucius didn’t answer.

  But deep down… Kaelis was right.

  Lucius’ power wasn’t normal.

  And soon, the world would understand why.

  The last of the old friends was Sir Elton Drayce, a knight from Calidora and a former academy troublemaker.

  His blond hair was streaked with silver, but his green eyes still carried the mischievous glint of youth.

  Beside him stood his children—

  Rylan Drayce (Age 14), a sharp-featured boy with shaggy blond hair, already carrying a wooden practice sword.

  And Veyna Drayce (Age 12), a girl with braided blonde hair, a dagger strapped to her belt.

  Elton smirked.

  "Magnus, my old rival! I should’ve known you’d be here."

  "Elton," Magnus sighed.

  Elton turned toward Lucius.

  "So this is your boy, huh? I heard he’s a Third Circle Magic Swordsman."

  He whistled.

  "Damn. If I had half that talent back in the academy, I’d be emperor by now."

  Rylan grinned.

  "I wanna fight him."

  Veyna, however, simply stared at Lucius with suspicion.

  "You don’t seem that strong," she muttered.

  Lucius chuckled.

  "Looks can be deceiving."

  Veyna narrowed her eyes.

  "...We’ll see."

  Elton laughed.

  "Oh, they take after me, don’t they?"

  As the banquet continued, nobles introduced their children, alliances were quietly formed, and the next generation of warriors and mages sized each other up.

  But through it all, one thing became clear—

  Lucius Ardentis was not just another noble heir.

  He was a phenomenon.

  And soon, the entire empire would see it.