Ember Reborn: The Flame That Defied Fate-Chapter 48: Precision -
"Begin."
The single word fell like a blade.
Vincent moved first.
There was no wasted motion. No flourish. No warning.
Just—
Thud.
The ground cracked under the force of his step.
In the blink of an eye, he was already in front of me.
Flash.
Silver light tore through the air as his blade left its scabbard.
A quick-draw.
Clean.
Efficient.
Lethal.
From the sidelines, Elisha let out a faint, hollow laugh.
"Hah."
"What on earth makes him so confident?"
Her violet eyes narrowed slightly.
At this point, curiosity had overtaken irritation.
She activated her Clairvoyance.
Her perception sharpened, scanning every thread of mana within my body.
"...There’s nothing special."
No unusual flow.
No hidden blessing.
No amplification artifact.
If anything—
"The amount of mana in his Stigma is only half that of the others."
Less mana wasn’t an advantage.
In combat, quantity mattered.
Power overwhelmed technique more often than not.
And yet—
She watched closely.
Vincent’s blade had already reached my throat.
I moved.
Not backward.
Not sideways.
Forward.
At the last possible instant, I channeled mana stored within my Stigma—
Left leg.
Right arm.
Sword.
Nothing else.
Clang!
Steel collided.
The impact rang across the training grounds.
Gasps followed.
"What—?!"
Elisha’s eyes widened.
I hadn’t spread mana across my body like the others.
I hadn’t reinforced everything.
Only the exact points of contact.
Precision.
Vincent’s eyes flickered for a fraction of a second.
That was enough.
He disengaged instantly, sliding backward to reset.
His quick-draw style was designed for decisive, opening lethality.
It wasn’t built for prolonged exchanges.
"He blocked it?" someone whispered.
"Impossible..."
Elisha leaned forward slightly.
"To control mana with that degree of precision..."
It wasn’t raw power.
It was surgical.
Even Vincent hadn’t expected that.
He lowered his stance again, silver mana evenly distributed across his body.
Expert-level control.
He didn’t underestimate me now.
"Let’s see how long you can maintain that arrogance," he said quietly.
I smiled faintly.
"Arrogance?"
Thud.
He vanished again.
This time faster.
The second draw was even cleaner.
But I wasn’t watching the blade.
I was watching his feet.
Quick-draw specialists rely on rhythm.
Engage.
Disengage.
Reset.
"When you retreat," I said calmly, "don’t focus only on your opponent."
My heel slammed into the ground.
Rumble.
Berald’s Combat Art.
Earth Shaker.
The stone beneath Vincent’s backstep cracked violently.
It wasn’t a massive upheaval.
Not like when I’d used the amplifier.
But it didn’t need to be.
His footing shifted half an inch.
That was enough.
His balance faltered.
Only for a breath.
But in real combat—
A breath is eternity.
"You’re too late."
Mana surged into both my legs.
Wind Step.
The world blurred.
I crossed the distance instantly.
My body moved like a thrown spear.
Mana flowed upward through my meridians, gathering at the blade.
A gray aura ignited along its edge.
Smaller than Vincent’s silver glow.
Duller.
But concentrated.
"What matters in battle," I murmured, "isn’t who has more power."
Just enough.
Just enough to wound.
Slash.
Ashen light cut across the air.
Vincent twisted, but not fully.
The blade carved across his forearm.
"Ugh—!"
Blood spilled.
His sword slipped from his fingers.
Clang.
It hit the ground.
Silence followed.
Vincent stared at his weapon.
Then at the shallow but clean wound across his arm.
He exhaled slowly.
"...I’ve lost."
The words were steady.
Professional.
He stepped back and lowered his head.
The training grounds fell into complete stillness.
Every cadet was staring at me.
Albert’s mouth was wide open.
Professor Lucas blinked once.
Twice.
Then burst out laughing.
"Hah! See? Didn’t I say so?"
Elisha did not laugh.
She was staring at me like I’d become a mathematical anomaly.
She activated her Hero Watch again.
"...Rank 472," she muttered.
She looked up sharply.
"How?"
Lucas scratched his cheek awkwardly.
"I did mention his ranking doesn’t reflect his actual ability..."
"Do you think that explains this?"
Her voice sharpened.
Lucas faltered.
Even he hadn’t expected such a clean victory.
He knew I would win.
But not like this.
’He’s grown again,’ Lucas thought grimly.
And fast.
Too fast.
Elisha stepped forward.
Her heels clicked slowly across the stone.
Vincent remained kneeling, gripping his injured arm, silent.
She stopped in front of me.
"Explain."
I tilted my head slightly.
"Explain what, Professor?"
"Your mana is inferior in quantity. Yet you blocked and countered a quick-draw specialist with veteran-level experience."
Her gaze was piercing.
"Where did you learn that control?"
I shrugged lightly.
"Practice."
"That isn’t funny."
"I’m not joking."
She studied me.
Her Clairvoyance activated again.
She scanned deeper.
Layer by layer.
Searching.
Hidden blessings?
Contract marks?
External interference?
Nothing.
Just—
Control.
Ridiculous, unnatural control.
"You didn’t distribute mana," she said slowly.
"You concentrated it only at impact points."
"Yes."
"That level of timing requires extreme familiarity with lethal exchanges."
"Yes."
"You’re a third-year cadet."
"Yes."
Her eyes narrowed.
"You fight like someone who has survived dozens of real battles."
For a fraction of a second—
The air shifted.
Lucas stiffened.
I smiled faintly.
"Maybe I’m just talented."
Elisha stared at me for a long moment.
Then—
She turned slightly.
"Vincent."
"Yes, Professor."
"Your analysis?"
Vincent rose despite the blood staining his sleeve.
"He read my rhythm."
A pause.
"And he anticipated my retreat angle."
He glanced at the cracked stone.
"He didn’t overpower me."
Another pause.
"He out-timed me."
Elisha’s expression hardened.
Out-timed.
Timing defeats power.
But timing like that—
Requires experience.
Or instinct beyond normal limits.
The cadets were whispering now.
"Rank 472...?"
"No way..."
Albert suddenly pointed at me.
"WAIT— does this mean the special juice bet still counts?!"
"Shut up, Albert," Lucas snapped automatically.
Elisha ignored the noise.
Her eyes never left mine.
"If what I witnessed is reproducible," she said calmly, "then this academy’s evaluation system is fundamentally flawed."
Lucas coughed.
"...Well, about that..."
She raised a hand to silence him.
"Dale Han."
"Yes, Professor."
"You will undergo further verification."
Lucas stiffened instantly.
"Verification? Senior, that might be—"
She cut him off.
"You know my blessing."
Lucas paled slightly.
"Surely you don’t mean—"
Elisha stepped closer.
Not threatening.
Not aggressive.
Just close enough that I could see the faint scar across her left eye more clearly.
"Clairvoyance does not lie," she said softly.
"It reads the truth behind the surface."
Her gaze intensified.
"If you are hiding something, I will see it."
The cadets swallowed nervously.
The air felt heavier.
Vincent stepped aside.
Lucas looked torn between pride and concern.
I met her gaze without flinching.
Inside—
The Primordial Flame remained silent.
Calm.
Contained.
I wasn’t using it.
Not now.
She studied me for several long seconds.
Nothing.
No demonic residue.
No abnormal mana signature.
No blessing interference.
Just—
Stillness.
"...Interesting," she murmured.
Lucas let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.
Finally, Elisha straightened.
"For now," she said coolly, "I will not pursue the matter further."
The tension loosened slightly.
But her eyes remained sharp.
"However," she added, "do not mistake this for trust."
I smiled lightly.
"I wouldn’t dream of it."
She held my gaze one final moment.
Then turned away.
"Class dismissed."
The cadets exploded into noise.
Albert rushed toward me.
"Dale! That was insane! Since when could you do that?!"
Lucas grabbed my shoulder.
"Not bad," he muttered.
Then under his breath—
"You’re becoming a real headache."
I chuckled.
Behind us, Elisha lit another cigarette.
Smoke curled into the sky.
"...Lucas."
"Yes?"
"You have something interesting in your class."
Lucas smirked.
"Told you."
She exhaled slowly.
"This academy may not be as rotten as I thought."
Her eyes drifted back to me.
"But if that boy becomes a problem..."
The temperature seemed to drop slightly.
"I will personally deal with it."
Lucas didn’t smile this time.
"Understood."
Across the training grounds, I could still feel her gaze.
Evaluating.
Measuring.
Calculating.
The storm had noticed me now.
And unlike before—
This time, it wasn’t moving blindly.
It was watching.
Closely.
