The sky was still cloaked in twilight when Noah's eyes snapped open. He heard a voice calling him :
[Noah Von Augustus come quickly.]
He quietly slipped out of bed, the world outside still hushed in sleep. Even the birds had not begun their song. Donning his training gear and fastening his cloak, he made his way through the silent manor.
This wasn't just a farewell.
It was something more.
Noah followed the silent guidance of his father's mana signature until he reached a door he'd never noticed before — tucked away behind a tapestry bearing the Augustus family crest. As he stepped through, reality bent slightly.
He emerged into a hidden dimension within the estate — a vast, secluded plateau high above the clouds. Wind howled furiously, violent and untamed, sweeping over jagged cliffs and swaying trees that clung to the earth like ancient guardians. Mountains loomed in the distance, and clouds danced across the sky like serpents of smoke.
At the very edge of the cliff, unmoved by the storm, stood Richard Von Augustus.
His back faced Noah. His long coat fluttered behind him, hair billowing with the wind — yet not a single leaf, not a single current, dared touch him.
Noah stepped forward, and the winds seemed to hush slightly at his presence.
Richard spoke without turning.
"You're leaving today, aren't you?"
Noah nodded. "Yes, Father."
A moment of silence passed between them.
Then Richard slowly turned, his violet eyes sharp as ever, the weight of years etched into his face — not from age, but from experience.
"Then take with you one last lesson. My gift, from one swordsman to another."
Noah stood straighter, heart pounding.
"Watch carefully."
Richard raised his right hand, fingers closing around the hilt of a sword not yet drawn. He didn't unsheathe it.
Instead, he stepped forward, toward the eye of the storm — where winds screamed like banshees, and the cliffs dared to swallow all who approached.
But they bowed to him.
His presence alone split the current. He became the eye within chaos.
Then, with a breath so subtle it felt like silence…
"Formless Sword Art — Wind Severance."
He moved.
There was no blade.
No stance.
No technique.
Only will.
Only intent.
A line of wind shrieked across the valley, and with a sound like a thunderous crack, the distant mountain range was cleaved in half. The heavens stilled. The clouds trembled.
Noah's eyes widened in disbelief. His jaw nearly dropped. That wasn't just swordsmanship. That was… domination over nature itself.
"I've long surpassed form," Richard said, lowering his hand. "When your heart becomes the blade, you no longer need to wield one."
Noah stepped forward, awe in his eyes.
"Can you use other elements too?" he asked softly.
Richard gave a rare smirk.
"Of course."
He raised his left hand this time — no weapon, no chant — and summoned a flicker of lightning that danced along his arm. The thunder hummed, not in rage, but in reverence.
"Formless Sword Art — Thunder Judgment."
He vanished in a flash — and reappeared several meters ahead, his foot touching down as if time itself had paused. Behind him, a stone cliff erupted with lightning cuts, dissected into perfect, geometric segments that crumbled one by one.
"This is my final gift to you, Noah. Not just technique — but conviction."
Noah was silent for a long time, absorbing every detail.
Then he bowed low.
"…Thank you, Father."
Richard placed a hand on Noah's shoulder — a gesture rare and brief.
"Surpass me one day. Not because you carry my name. But because you're you. The path of the Celestial Blade Master… is yours alone."
The wind picked up again — not in rage, but in song, as father and son stood on the edge of destiny.
And with that, the lesson ended.
-to be continued...
A/N:
A true sword is not forged by steel alone… but by the heart that wields it.
Richard's final lesson wasn't just a technique—it was a reflection of will, of legacy, and of the quiet love between father and son.
The blade follows the hand, but the hand follows the heart.
Thank You for feeling this story of mine.
With love...
-Author