Every trainee of the Crucible stood assembled in the central training ground for the swordsmanship evaluation. "Everyone, fall in!" More than a hundred trainees snapped into rows, their young faces taut with anticipation. While Gauntlet Trials had been part of the assessment, swordsmanship was the true crucible. These were children, twelve years old at most, but their eyes held the cold glint of warriors. The head instructor, Gideon Cole, paced before them, his gaze sweeping over the lines alongside the other instructors. His eyes narrowed, scanning the ranks of uniformed youths. "Corbin! Where is Corbin?" No matter where he looked, Corbin was nowhere to be found. A ripple of whispers passed through the trainees, heads turning to search for the missing boy. One of the instructors barked, "Quiet! Who dares to chatter before this sacred evaluation?" The trainees stiffened, their gazes fixed forward once more. Just then, a rhythmic clank… clank… echoed from the far end of the grounds. A boy was walking toward them, a massive claymore resting on his shoulder. It was, of course, Corbin. A stunned silence fell over the assembly. Late for the most critical evaluation of his life, Corbin strolled in as if he hadn't a care in the world. He ambled to the back of the formation and took a spot at the end of the line. Gideon’s glare could have melted steel. "Corbin Vance," he growled, his voice a low threat. "Are you so incompetent you can’t even find your proper place after arriving late?" An ordinary trainee would have wilted under that tone alone. But Corbin had weathered twenty years of hardship across the continent in another life. Gideon’s bluster was nothing to him. Corbin glanced around, then strode past the other trainees to an empty spot in the front row. Thud. He planted the tip of his claymore in the hard-packed earth and looked up at the head instructor, his expression unreadable. Corbin Vance, Gideon thought, frustration warring with a flicker of curiosity. What in the world has gotten into you? Annoyed but pressed for time, Gideon decided to proceed with the evaluation. "We will now begin the swordsmanship duels," he announced, his voice ringing across the grounds. "The most important part of the Crucible’s graduation evaluation." They were called duels, but they were fought with live steel. It was a brutal test, one where a death was not unheard of. Gideon continued slowly, "Based on these scores and the results of the aura awakening after next month's Blessing Ceremony, we will determine your acceptance into the academy and your class assignments." A collective gulp went through the ranks of trainees. All except for Corbin. The others were focused on entering the academy. Corbin’s mind was elsewhere. Aura awakening. That alone had been one of the main reasons he’d been treated like trash in his past life. The problem was that, even now, he was a Healer. His talent lay in healing, not swordplay. He could not awaken an aura. A knot of anxiety tightened in his chest. I can’t be treated like trash again in this life. He had to show them something spectacular before the Blessing Ceremony sealed his fate. Once the tedious procedural explanations were complete, Gideon surveyed the trainees. "Let the final evaluation begin. The swordsmanship duels." His gaze landed on Corbin in the front row. "Corbin. Step into the arena." Called first, an unusual choice, Corbin simply pulled his claymore from the dirt and walked toward the dueling circle. Gideon frowned, his eyes on the massive sword Corbin now rested on his shoulder. "Are you really intending to use that?" Corbin met his gaze. "Is there a rule against it?" There wasn't, but for the Vance Clan, who prided themselves on being knights above all others, such a brutish, mercenary-style weapon was an eyesore. The other trainees began to snicker at the sight. "Does he think a bigger sword will make him stronger?" one muttered. "So the Gauntlet Trials was just a fluke." Gideon clicked his tongue, a wave of disappointment washing over him. Was I expecting too much? Just as he was about to name Corbin’s opponent, a clear voice cut through the air. "Instructor." Gideon turned. A girl had spoken. "Reina Calder." A prodigy. She had already awakened her aura, long before the Blessing Ceremony. Even the heads of the Vance Clan had taken notice of her talent. "Please, allow me to be Corbin Vance’s opponent." Gideon hesitated. He was curious to see what Corbin could do, but Reina… she was in another league entirely. How many of these trainees, he wondered, could even withstand three of her strikes? As Gideon weighed his decision, Corbin spoke from the arena. "What’s the hesitation? The girl wants a fight." His eyes were fixed on Reina. Gideon turned to Corbin. "You are certain you wish to duel Reina Calder?" In response, Corbin simply lifted his blade. With the challenge accepted, Gideon had little choice. He nodded to Reina. With a firm step, Reina entered the dueling circle, taking her position opposite Corbin. Unlike Corbin’s hulking claymore, she carried a standard arming sword. A peculiar thrill coursed through Corbin as he watched her. A duel with the Flash Knight herself. What an honor. Reina drew her sword, the steel singing as it left the scabbard. Corbin raised his claymore in answer. Reina’s eyes narrowed. Something was wrong with the way he held the sword. It’s different. They had trained together in the Crucible for five years. She knew his form, the awkward way he held and swung a blade. Before, Corbin could barely hold a sword properly. He’d even used a specially made practice sword, half the standard weight, just because he lacked the strength. Yet here he was, wielding a claymore far larger and heavier than any longsword with an easy, natural grace. It’s subtle, she noted, but his entire frame seems broader. More muscled than just a week ago. Such a dramatic physical change in a single week should have been impossible. I’ll have my answer when our swords meet. Reina pushed off her back foot. Despite his casual stance, a tremor of anticipation ran through Corbin. Reina Calder. The greatest talent of her generation, the first to awaken her aura. In his past life, back in the Crucible, he couldn't have hoped to touch her. But this life was different. He could feel a deep heat coiling in his muscles, waiting to be unleashed. Gideon’s voice cut the silence. "Begin!" The word had barely left his lips before Reina exploded into motion. Thump! She kicked off the hard earth, closing the distance in a blur and bringing her sword around in a vicious arc. The powerful strike crashed against Corbin's claymore. CLANG! The impact of steel on steel rang out like a great bronze bell. Corbin slid back a foot from the force of the blow, his claymore held steady. Reina pivoted instantly, her blade flashing in a second attack. CLANG! Again the swords met, a sharp, resonant peal echoing across the grounds. This time, Corbin stood his ground, merely angling his blade to deflect hers. From the spectator stands, Leon, one of the cousins, was the first to speak. "Corbin’s finished." He sneered, a cruel twist to his lips. Beside him, Joric said nothing, his eyes fixed on the duel. Clang! Clang! Clang! Despite Reina's relentless assault, Corbin offered no counter-attack, only parrying and giving ground. Leon jumped to his feet. "Reina! Stop playing with him and finish it!" "You idiot." The words were sharp, cutting. It was Joric. Leon spun on him. "What did you just say, you bastard…?" Joric slowly turned his head, his gaze cold enough to freeze blood. Leon flinched, his own anger forgotten in the face of that stare. He knew better than to challenge Joric. "Does it look to you like Reina is playing around?" Joric asked quietly. At those words, Leon’s gaze snapped back to the arena, and he finally saw it. The expressions on the faces of Owen, the other instructors, and especially Gideon Cole, were not ones of boredom. They were stone. No, not just stone. They were stunned. Joric drove the point home. "That bastard Corbin… he’s toying with her." The color drained from Leon's face. It was true. As Corbin parried Reina’s onslaught, there was an unmistakable ease to his movements. So this is the swordplay of the Flash Knight as a child, Corbin thought. Her form was precise, her blows powerful—unbelievable for a twelve-year-old. Of course, the Corbin of the past couldn't have managed a fraction of this at the same age. But for the Corbin who had regressed after twenty years of brutal survival, her technique was pure child's play. The initial tremor of excitement he’d felt was long gone. He was now merely guiding her, deflecting her strikes in ways that opened better lines of attack, as if leading a sparring partner through their forms. She’s fast and strong, but that’s all. Too rigid. It’s straight from a textbook, with no personality. A perfect foundation was good, but her blade lacked any true spark of its own. Reina, who had been pressing her attack relentlessly, finally seemed to sense that something was wrong. She abruptly broke off her assault and leaped back. "Hah… hah…" Leaning on her sword, she gasped for breath, glaring at Corbin. Never once, in all her duels with her peers, had Reina found herself winded. But the boy before her didn't feel like a peer at all. It felt like she was sparring with one of the instructors. Seeing her pause, Corbin lowered his claymore slightly. Time to break the pattern. In a sudden burst of speed, Corbin closed the distance between them. Slide! Gideon’s eyes widened at the explosive footwork. Is that Quick Step? How does he know that technique? Quick Step wasn't a secret art; it was a basic combat maneuver for closing with an enemy. But simple as it was, it was a skill forged only in the crucible of life-or-death battles. As he moved, a line of text materialized in his vision. [Active Skill 'Quick Step' registered.] So that’s how skills are registered. But Corbin's Quick Step was different. He didn't just cross the space; he seemed to vanish and reappear, leaving no trace of his movement. It was a feat made possible only by the unique density of his muscle fibers. Whoosh! One moment he was yards away, the next he was right in front of her, as if space itself had folded. At the same instant, his claymore descended. Reina barely had time to throw up a desperate defense. CLANG! The claymore hammered into her blade. Ugh… A shock of pain shot up her arm. She hadn't had time to set her stance. But it wasn't over. Corbin's massive sword moved with impossible speed, striking her blade again and again from bizarre angles. Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! He wielded the heavy weapon as if it were an extension of his arm. Panic began to fray the edges of Reina's composure as the attacks came from directions she could have never anticipated. Her perfect form crumbled. Whoosh! Corbin’s claymore swept toward her, a direct, frontal assault. No! Instinct took over, and Reina drew upon her aura. CRACK! Her sword, now glowing with a faint light, met Corbin's claymore and sent it flying. The force of the aura-infused blow ripped the claymore from Corbin’s grasp. The greatsword spun through the air and slammed into the arena floor, embedding itself deep in the earth. Thud! Disarmed. Everyone thought the duel was over. But in the next instant, a gasp went through the crowd. "What is he—" The moment the claymore left his hands, Corbin lunged forward. Using Quick Step again, he closed the final gap and drove the edge of his hand into Reina’s throat. Gack! Reina choked, clutching her neck as she staggered backward. Joric and Leon could only stare, their mouths agape. They had been taught that a knight never, ever lets go of their sword. To die with it still in hand was the only honorable way. And Reina, even as she gasped for air, still held her sword in a death grip. Leon leaped up again, his voice cracking. "You lunatic! This is a duel of swords, not some back-alley brawl!" Corbin turned his head and shot a look at Leon. Met with that feral glare, Leon flinched and sank back into his seat. Gideon, the head instructor, was frozen, unsure how to rule on such an unorthodox victory. Just then, Reina spoke. Her expression grim, she lowered her sword. Her voice was raspy, but clear. "I have lost." Reina Calder had admitted defeat. She had been forced to use her aura—a power she had sworn not to use against her fellow trainees—and she had still failed. But that wasn’t the only reason. If that had been a dagger instead of his hand… She would be dead. It was a complete and utter defeat. The trainees, the instructors—everyone stood in stunned silence. Corbin calmly walked over to his claymore, pulled it free from the earth, and slung it over his shoulder. Then, just as casually as he had arrived, he walked off the arena grounds. Gideon finally found his voice, shaking himself from his stupor to announce the result. "C-Corbin Vance… is the winner!" A wave of disbelief washed over the entire training ground.

Chapter 5: Silence of the Claymore