A sigh slipped past Ethan’s lips, his teeth clenching tightly as the terrifying sword intent flooded every corner of the room.

Just as mages who reached the fifth stage were called Archmages, swordsmen who climbed to that same height received the title of Sword Master.

Each were supreme beings in their own path.

Naturally, the aura of such a powerful being could never be weak.

Ethan felt the terrible pressure bearing down on his shoulders. Small cuts opened across his skin, thin scarlet threads trickling down his face and arms.

He ignored them.

The key step to becoming a specialist was forging one’s own aura, and he could not fail at that.

Creating a weak aura, or worse, failing to shape one at all, would be an unforgivable waste of the gifts the system had granted him.

Some men carried repulsive, loathsome auras. Others bore dignified, noble, powerful ones, capable of bringing enemies to submission with a single thought.

The sword intent that ruled the room belonged to the latter, and he could never let it go to waste.

Without hesitation, he studied it, understood it, and shaped it, drawing its essence into his own aura.

Once a faint reddish glow, his aura began to shift the moment his soul reached out and bent it into a new form.

First came small threads of gold, weaving through the red.

Soon after, an intense golden glow swallowed Ethan’s body whole, as if molten gold were being poured over his back without ever quite touching his skin, gathering into a faint halo around him.

Ethan groaned in pain.

His hands rested on the knees of his crossed legs, fingers clawing into his own flesh hard enough that blood began to ooze out from beneath his nails.

Slowly, he forced himself to stand, his own aura pressing down on him from every direction as if it wanted to crush him into the stone floor.

He pushed back with everything he had, seizing that raw power and subduing it through sheer willpower.

The sword intent that had dominated the room gradually thinned out, as if consumed by the golden aura wrapped around Ethan’s body.

The handsome young man paused for a moment, his lips parting in a long, weary sigh, and in the next instant, he simply let himself relax.

His aura exploded, ripping through the cramped room in a shockwave that rattled off the nearby walls.

He could feel power, he could feel nobility and he could feel arrogance.

It was similar to the lord’s aura, yet far more useful.

Where before he could only weigh down his enemies with his presence, he could now actively channel it to strengthen his weapons and, above all, his own body.

It was in the third stage, after all, that, with the formation of meridians to move his aura more easily, the abilities to passively reinforce body and blade with aura truly came into their own.

Had he already reached the third stage before, even an explosion as fierce as the one Erick had hit him with last time would barely have left a scratch.

With a sigh, Ethan withdrew his aura, a faint smile curving his lips.

[Congratulations, you have advanced to the third stage!

All your base attributes have increased by 90%! The amount of free attribute points gained upon leveling up has doubled]

[Effect of S-Rank Advancement Pearl applied: +80% to base attributes]

[Accumulated XP has been successfully consumed]

[You have leveled up! Level 60 -> 65

+20 free attribute points]

[You received 5 prestige points.]

[Name: Ethan GoldenVeil

Level: 65/120 (XP: 31%)

Available Resurrections: 2

Stage: 3 (Advancement mission available at level 120.)

Talent: Rank B

Noble Title: Intermediate Baron. (Increase your prestige to upgrade your title)

Heroic Title: The Unparalleled Degenerate of Darkwall! (-3 prestige), Goblin Slayer! (+2 prestige, +30% dread among goblins.)

Prestige: 17/35

Aura: 6094/6094

Attributes.

Strength: 543

Agility: 485

Vitality: 451

Intelligence: 471

Charm: 700

Available attribute points: 20

Wives: 3

Concubines: 0

Monthly prestige gained from wives and concubines: 5]

Ethan struggled to contain his excitement at his newfound power.

His attributes had jumped by an absurd margin, far beyond the norm even for third-stage warriors, easily rivaling the gain from an S-Rank talent.

He left the cramped room behind and soon found himself standing at the center of the arena.

With a single impulse of his feet, his body shot into the air, climbing over four meters before he came down on a small balcony.

Ethan used it as a springboard, kicking off and launching himself upward once more, landing with ease on the slanted roof of the mansion.

Tiles barely creaked beneath his weight as he crossed the rooftop in long strides, then sprang toward the garden and vaulted over the outer walls in a single fluid motion.

In just a few minutes, he was already several kilometers from Goldenveil, his own power burning hot through his veins.

Even back in the second stage, when he had already been so powerful, he had never quite felt like a true superhuman.

A single shot to the chest would have likely killed him without the Blood Emperor’s ring to drag him back.

But now, that had changed.

Stopping in his tracks, he glanced around, flashed a broad smile, and then summoned his aura.

His body was instantly enveloped, like a golden veil closing in around him and rising toward the skies.

His eyes shone with the same color, and his sword, too, did not escape the transformation.

Ethan inhaled deeply as the blade slid free of its leather sheath with a sharp hiss.

He exhaled as he took a step forward.

The ground split beneath his feet, chunks of earth bursting into the air, and his blade carved through the wind in a single slash of aura, trailing a golden veil that fanned out into a crescent moon, soaring toward the trees before him.

The trees shuddered.

Perfect cuts ripped through trunk after trunk as the golden slash kept advancing for another fifty meters before finally breaking apart into countless drifting fragments, like golden flames scattered by the wind.

Ethan watched dozens of trees crash to the ground in heavy thuds, an intense gleam in his eyes.

Turning to a tree still standing nearby, he drove an aura-reinforced fist straight into its trunk.

The wood was thick, firm, and ancient, yet his fist tore through it as if it were butter, splinters and shards bursting in every direction.

So, that was the power of a master capable of living for over two hundred years. The power of a true master.

Not bad...