Swing. Again. Swoosh.
Han Jisoo's blade sliced through the air once more. The motion felt mechanical now, a rhythm he couldn't escape. Sweat dripped down his brow as he fought against his own exhaustion. He was focused entirely on the skill he'd just unlocked—Echo Severance—but the wind it summoned barely whispered. Just a trace. Barely enough to ruffle the leaves at his feet.
He paused, his breath ragged. "Why won't you move?" His words felt hollow in the still air. His eyes tracked the blade's edge, waiting for something more. Anything. He clenched his jaw, frustration swelling within him. "Sulien should've stayed. He would've known what I'm doing wrong."
But the air remained still. Not a single breeze stirred the leaves.
"Again."
He commanded his body to obey. With strained muscles and spirit running thin, Han Jisoo raised his sword again. His grip tightened around the hilt. The motion was the same, but there was nothing in the air to mark its significance. No answer from the wind.
Swing. Swoosh.
Again.
He didn't stop. Even as his strength waned, even as his body screamed for rest, he kept swinging. Over and over. Unwilling to admit defeat. The air, however, was as silent as it had been the first time.
What he didn't notice was the figure standing in the distance, watching.
Commander Galen had arrived, as he always did—no fanfare, no warning. He was like the quiet presence of a storm, not seen, but felt.
Han Jisoo continued, his focus entirely consumed by his sword.
Swing. Swoosh.
The blade cut through the air with less purpose now. Just a weary repetition.
"Again."
His voice was strained but determined. He refused to stop.
And then—
Something changed.
A whisper of wind—so subtle it was almost imperceptible at first—began to coil around his blade. A faint curling of air that carried the slightest trace of something deeper, something untamed. It wasn't much. But it was something.
Han Jisoo didn't stop. The wind shifted, ever so slightly, as if acknowledging him. A hum of power reverberated through the sword. The air felt thicker now. Less like a breeze, more like something alive.
The magic stirred.
He didn't question it. He just kept moving, swinging, pushing. His body was drenched in sweat, his legs barely holding him upright. The pain in his muscles was sharp, but the magic—it called to him. It pulled at his very core.
A sudden shift—more force behind his swing. The air responded. No longer just moving, but bending to his will. The world around him began to change. Dust rose from the ground. The trees shook in the distance.
It wasn't just wind now.
It was force.
But even as it gathered, something began to slip. His vision blurred. The power flowed through him, unbidden.
He barely heard the sharp footsteps behind him. Commander Galen took a step forward. His gaze was fixed. Not on the magic itself, but on Han Jisoo.
The boy was pushing too hard, too fast.
Galen's lips pressed into a thin line. He recognized the signs—raw mana, unstable, pouring out uncontrollably. Han Jisoo wasn't ready for this. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to intervene. Not yet.
Han Jisoo swung again, and this time—this time—the wind didn't just follow. It obeyed.
The blade cut through the air with a power it hadn't held before. Trees bent. Leaves scattered in a perfect arc. The ground trembled beneath his feet.
For a moment, he felt like he was in control. Like the wind had bent to his will.
And then, as suddenly as it had surged, the power began to fade. The air grew still once more.
Han Jisoo stood in the middle of the yard, breath ragged, blood dripping from his nose. His heart pounded against his chest like a drum. He could barely stand.
His mind spun in a fog, trying to comprehend what had just happened. His vision swayed, the aftermath of the magic settling in his bones.
But something else—a strange, distant sound—lingered in his ears. A chime. Quiet. Almost imperceptible.
[Skill EXP recognized. Progress: 27%. Classification: Finishing Skill.]
Note: Unlocking requires Identity resonance.
Reward: Hidden Knowledge Tier???
The words echoed through his mind. Not quite a relief, but an acknowledgment. A strange sensation stirred within him. The magic he had wielded, however momentary, was real. But the system itself—his means of measuring progress—was silent. It, too, lacked something. Resonance. His mind raced, trying to piece it together.
His gaze wandered. The destruction around him. The trees shattered. The earth cracked under the strain of his own magic. The power had overwhelmed him. He had lost control.
A figure moved toward him through the haze of his thoughts.
Commander Galen approached, his footsteps silent but purposeful. He clapped his hands twice, sharp and commanding.
"Well done," Galen said, voice steady and calm, but with something unreadable in his eyes. "I wasn't expecting such results. Especially not from someone who's only been here two days."
Han Jisoo stood silent, his chest heaving, his head a whirlwind of exhaustion and triumph. He felt the weight of Galen's words—words that offered no comfort, only truth. The magic had been extraordinary, yes. But at what cost?
"You're a mess," Galen continued, folding his arms. His tone was dry, yet there was a hint of approval. "Overdrawn. Bleeding. Barely standing."
Han Jisoo didn't care. He had done it. He had bent the wind.
"But," Galen added, "you bent it through sheer will. No circles. No incantations. Just raw, unfiltered magic."
Jisoo's hands trembled, still gripping the sword. His breath steadied.
"You've done well today, kid."
But Galen's tone shifted, softer this time.
"Rest yourself for now."
Han Jisoo blinked. The world around him seemed to slow. His mind, barely conscious, caught a voice in the distance. So soft. So gentle.
"Rest yourself."
It was almost as though the words were not meant for him, but for someone else—someone far away. A vision, half-formed, danced at the edge of his perception. Blood. Bodies. A figure cloaked in shadows, standing among them.
He couldn't focus. The pain in his head made it impossible.
And then—nothing.
Everything went dark.
Ouch!
A sudden, sharp pain dragged Han Jisoo back into the world. His body felt heavy, numb. His eyes fluttered open, only to find himself in a room he didn't recognize. His head throbbed, the pain almost unbearable.
A voice, quiet and steady, cut through the haze.
"You're awake."
He turned to see Galen standing beside him, his presence solid and unwavering.
"You overextended yourself," Galen said, his voice calm but direct. "You forced too much magic through too little control. You didn't break anything, but you came damn close."
Han Jisoo struggled to sit up, his breath shallow and uneven.
"I see..." he mumbled, trying to grasp the edges of reality.
"You pushed too far," Galen continued. "You didn't just channel the wind. You made it listen. But you're not ready for that power yet."
Han Jisoo nodded slowly. The words made sense in a way. He hadn't been ready. He had done what he could, but he had pushed too far.
"But you've done something no one else has done before." Galen's tone shifted—there was a glimmer of approval in his eyes. "That's something to be proud of."
Han Jisoo gave a small, exhausted smile.
And then, just as the room seemed to calm—there was a sudden bang.
The door swung open with a force that rattled the wooden walls, startling Han Jisoo. He could barely hold his composure as Sulien strode in, his energy almost too much to bear after the intensity of the last few moments.
"HEY! HEY! HEY!"
Sulien floated into the room, his wind magic effortlessly lifting a series of large sacks behind him. He set them down near the edge of the kitchen.
"How's the training going, kid?" Sulien asked, raising an eyebrow as he surveyed Han Jisoo's state.
"It was... great," Han Jisoo managed to reply, his voice still thick with exhaustion.
Sulien nodded. "Well, first of all—kid, you look like hell. Take a nap or something."
Han Jisoo shot him a blank look. His body felt like it had been run over by a cart. But he wasn't angry. He wasn't mad at Sulien.
"I see..." Sulien glanced at Galen. "You haven't healed him yet?"
Galen's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't answer.
A new presence entered the room. Han Jisoo's gaze turned to the doorway, where a figure stood, quiet and composed. A girl, clothed in a luxurious dress that shimmered softly in the dim light. Her eyes met his, and for a moment, everything stopped.
Her gaze was calm, yet penetrating.