NOVPUB
Chapter 45: 45:The Lion’s Ring
Ruth looked at Rami and ordered.
"Rami! Bring those things out."
Kael raised a brow, confused as hell. What things?
Rami walked behind, grabbed a long box, and placed it in front of Kael.
"Open it," Ruth said.
Kael shrugged and did as told. The moment he lifted the lid, his eyes gleamed.
Inside lay a long sword—its scabbard black with a faint metallic glint, the guard and pommel adorned with a lion insignia. The craftsmanship screamed power and elegance.
Beside it, nestled in soft red velvet, was a ring a golden lion head, but the metal wasn’t pure gold. Embedded in its forehead sat a one-carat orb-shaped stone, pulsating with a faint glow.
Kael instantly felt something off about it.
"This isn’t just some jewelry, is it?" he asked, glancing at Ruth.
"It stores a bit of mana and increases your healing ability," Ruth stated coldly.
Kael’s brows rose. "Not bad..."
"The stone itself is a C-rank artifact," Rami added.
Kael gave a slow nod before turning back to Ruth. The old man was watching him with that usual unreadable stare.
"During the coming-of-age ceremony, every noble brat gets a ring," Ruth said. "But ours is different. This is the Proof of Veydrin. If you wear it, everyone under Veydrin’s banner is bound to salute you."
Kael’s eyes narrowed. "And if I lose it?"
Ruth’s voice dropped into something dead serious.
"Lose it, and you lose the qualification to be a Veydrin."
Kael blinked. Then blinked again. "Huh? Did I hear that correctly?"
"You did," Ruth confirmed, expression cold as ice.
"The moment you lose it is the moment you’re no longer a Veydrin."
Kael scoffed. "That’s way too much bullshit."
Still, he picked up the ring. It felt cool and refreshing against his fingers, like dipping his hand into cold spring water. Without waiting, he slipped it onto his ring finger. The moment it settled, a faint pulse of energy spread through his hand.
Not bad.
Then, his attention shifted to the sword.
It was made of ark steel with a faint bluish sheen, incredibly sharp with a double-edged design for swift and precise cuts.
The handle was wrapped in black leather, perfectly fitting into his grip with a slight curve at the pommel for better balance.
It was heavy enough to deliver devastating strikes, but light enough for quick movements.
"What’s the rank?"
"It’s A rank!"
A high-tier weapon forged to slice through enemies like butter.
Kael ran his fingers along the blade’s edge. It was razor-sharp—he barely applied pressure, and it nicked his skin. A small drop of blood slid down, only for the ring to absorb it instantly.
So the healing part works too, huh?
"Do we get premade swords? Can’t I get a custom one?" Kael asked, twirling the blade.
"Adele had a custom-made one," Ruth said bluntly. "But you weren’t worthy enough. This one was taken from the storage ring."
"As typical as ever,"Kael scoffed
He strapped the sword to his waist, adjusted its position, then looked at Ruth.
"Can I leave now, My Lord?"
Ruth waved a dismissive hand. "Yes."
Kael gave a half-assed salute and turned to leave, already thinking about getting out of this place.
But then—
"One more thing."
Kael groaned. "Uh... What now?"
"After the ceremony, you will be assigned a fiefdom for your test. The qualification test that was halted before."
Kael rolled his eyes. "Because I was a trash idiot, useless, and a disappointment—yeah, yeah, I got it."
He waved Ruth off. "Now let me go."
And with that, Kael strolled out whistling, leaving behind a thick cloud of cigar smoke.
....
Kael walked onto the training field, where young knights swung their swords with fierce determination. Some were practicing their footwork, moving swiftly across the ground in full gear, while others focused on their swordplay.
In the middle of all this, a small, lean figure stood still, his sword gripped tightly. The boy had been swinging, but now he just sighed heavily, frustration clear on his face.
Kael smirked and walked over.
"Oye, Chris... What’s with the sighing?"
Chris wiped the sweat from his forehead and glanced up, only to pause when he saw Kael. His eyes flicked down to the new sword flashing at Kael’s waist.
"It’s nothing," Chris muttered, looking away.
Kael clicked his tongue. "What nothing? Just spill it. I might help."
Chris hesitated for a moment, then finally admitted, "Can I... become a good swordsman?"
Kael raised a brow. "Huh?"
Chris took a deep breath. "I haven’t even awakened yet. I don’t know if I ever will. While everyone else is practicing techniques, I’m just swinging my sword around like an idiot."
Kael rubbed his chin. "I see..."
Chris’s training had been supervised by Baret and Gare, but Kael had personally told them to keep it simple—no flashy techniques, no unnecessary complications.
And now, seeing Chris struggle, Kael burst into laughter.
"That’s too shallow a problem."
Chris frowned. "What do you mean?"
Kael didn’t answer. Instead, he reached for his sword.
"Watch closely, kiddo."
In one smooth motion, Kael unsheathed his sword. The blade gleamed under the sunlight, sharp and dangerous.
Then, he moved.
His footwork was light, yet grounded, his stance firm yet fluid. He swung his sword in a perfect arc, cutting through the air effortlessly. Each slash flowed into the next, a seamless rhythm of movement—no wasted energy, no unnecessary showmanship, just raw precision.
His blade moved like a ripple in water, like a painter’s brush on a canvas, smooth and mesmerizing. The wind followed his strikes, leaving faint whispers in the air.
By the time he finished, the entire training ground had fallen silent.
The knights who had been training paused, staring with wide eyes.
Chris, who had been watching, was gasping in shock.
Kael clicked his tongue and turned to him. "Well? What did you see?"
Chris snapped out of his daze and quickly answered. "That was... awesome. Really awesome!"
Kael sheathed his sword with a sharp click and smirked.
"I didn’t use any fancy techniques."
Chris blinked. "Huh?"
"It was all simple slashes and cuts, yet it had a profound effect," Kael explained. "The pinnacle of swordsmanship isn’t in flashy moves. It’s simple. Simple movements, mastered to perfection, can decide a fight in seconds."
Chris’s grip on his sword tightened. "So... I shouldn’t chase fancy techniques?"
Kael chuckled. "Exactly. Flashy moves might overwhelm opponents in the early stages, but at the highest level? Fights are decided in just a few strikes. Instead of running after techniques, focus on refining a single movement until it becomes an extension of yourself."
Chris nodded, determination burning in his eyes.
Kael stretched and turned away. "Alright, I’m off."
Then, just as he was about to leave, he casually tossed one last statement over his shoulder—
"Oh, and by the way, you’re coming with me to the Awakening Ceremony. So be ready."
Chris’s jaw dropped. "H-Huh?For real?"
Kael just laughed and walked away.
