The sun hung like a pale blade in the sky, casting long shadows across the dry, open field just beyond the castle walls. The morning air was crisp but carried an undercurrent of heart that promised sweat, exhaustion, and bruises before noon arrived.
Kael stood in formation with the rest of his classmates, now clad in simple training garb. The linen tunic felt rough on his skin, clinging to his shoulders with dampness that has nothing to do with exertion—just tension. His boots were stiff leather, worn without grace. A thin belt hung from his waist, and unlike some of his peers, there was no sword or staff dangling from it.
The field was vast, cleared of trees but surrounded by rising stone terraces and weathered watchtowers. Off in the distance, he could see armored knights jogging laps around the perimeter, their feet pounding against red clay in time with shouted commands. Nearby, the training dummies—scarred wood bound in iron bands—stood like silent sentinels awaiting punishment.
Kael kept his gaze forward, though his thoughts turned inward.
[Boundforged System: Active]
[Awaiting command...]
The system's voice—neither human nor synthetic—echoed through his mind like a whisper carved from glass.
He whispered back, "System... explain everything."
[I am the Boundforged System. A contract born of divine interference and sealed by mortal defiance.]
[My function: to provide strength through selective tethering.]
"Selective resonance?"
[You may bond with one target at a time. This bond does not require their knowledge, consent, or proximity.]
[The bonded individual will receive a passive 5x increase in growth rate, effective immediately.]
[In return, you will receive a 50x return on any growth they experience-converted directly into skills, mastery, and physical enhancement.]
Kael's heart skipped a beat. "So... If I choose someone to bond with, and they get stronger..."
[You receive a far more concentrated echo of their growth.]
[If your bond learns swordsmanship, you receive an advanced derivative.]
[If they strengthen their body, your body adapts.]
[The more they progress, the faster you evolve.]
[This is a passive system. No effort is required on your part.]
[However, only one primary bond may be active at your current level.]
Kael's mouth tugged into a slow smile. "And the 5x boost... that's for them?"
[Correct.]
[The bonded target becomes 5x more efficient at gaining strength and mastery.]
[Their progress accelerates. Your reward multiplies.]
[You grow stronger simply by choosing correctly.]
His eyes flickered across the other students—some nervous, some energized, all quietly awaiting the next ordeal.
Then he whispered, "Bind Tatsuya Minoru."
[Confirmed]
[Primary Bond forged: Tatsuya Minoru]
[Target gains 5x accelerated growth]
[Host receives 50x projected return on all gains]
[Synchronization begins...]
Kael exhaled. A whisper of wind passed across the training field, ruffling his red hair. The golden gears in his eyes spun once, slow and deliberate.
He didn't need to fight. Not yet. He just needed to wait.
A horn blared from the barracks.
From the far edge of the field, two figures approached.
The first was a mountain of iron and muscle. Clad in sleeveless blackened armor with shoulder plates like fortress gates, Sir Garron Vael, Knight Commander of the Royal Legion, strode forward with the measured pace of a boulder rolling downhill. His arms were bare to the elbow, dark with sun, and marked by pale scars and old burns. His silver beard was cropped short like a warbanner wrapped around a jaw made of stone. His eyes were the color of stormy slate—unmoving and utterly unsympathetic.
When he spoke, his voice was a blunt weapon.
"I am not your instructor. I am your punishment. I will break you, and if what's left can stand, then maybe—maybe—it will be worth something. If not, I'll bury you myself. Training begins now."
A few students flinched. Others muttered or glanced around for support.
Kael remained silent. Watching.
Then, from the left, a second presence emerged.
She moved like mist given form—graceful, but uncomfortably still. Her robes flowed behind her as if carried by invisible waves, dyed in deep hues of midnight and violet, embroidered with runes that shimmered faintly with motion. Her skin was ashen gray, smooth and cold-looking, and her eyes—pale violet rimmed with silver—glowed faintly even in daylight.
A pointed black hat curled above her brow, adorned with a thin silver crescent and a veil of floating glyphs.
"I am Lady Velmyra the Gloam-Eyed," she said. "Second in command of the Kingdom's Mage Corps. For those of you with magic-based classes—step forward now. You will not remain with the sword fodder."
Six students stepped out. Among them: Reika Kisaragi, her expression poised but eager, and two boys Kael vaguely remembered from science class.
Velmyra turned without another word, her robes fluttering with unnatural grace, and the magic students followed her across the field toward a stone tower pulsing faintly with mana.
Sir Garron sneered as they left.
"Let the cowards play with sparkles," he growled. "The rest of you—your weapons are over there. You've got five seconds."
The next hour was pain.
Kael didn't need to lift a blade to know the sound of collapse.
Dozens of wooden swords clacked and crashed, bodies hit the dirt with dull thuds, and the air filled with shouted instructions, groans of failure, and more than one retch. One boy dropped from exhaustion twenty minutes in, vomiting on his boots. A girl fainted in the middle of footwork drills. Garron barked over all of it, a living avalanche of rage and expectation.
"Get up! Again! You think this is a game? You think demons will wait while you breathe? Again!"
Kael endured it quietly for as long as he could. He mimicked drills, dodged shouting, and when the moment came—when Garron turned to scream at a collapsed student—Kael slipped away behind the weapon racks, weaving through crates and barrels until he reached the edge of the field.
There, beneath a twisted oak leaning over the far hill, he sat.
The bark was dry and rough beneath his back. The grass here was thin, sun-scorched, and dust curled underfoot like old ash. But it was quiet. Peaceful. Far enough away that Garron's bellowing was just a background tremor.
And then—
[Target has gained Sword Skill: Swordsmanship Expert]
[Returning to host…]
[Synchronizing…]
[Host has gained: Imperial Blade Doctrine I]
[Host's body has adapted. Muscle efficiency increased. Reflex acuity increased. Kinesthetic retention enhanced.]
Kael inhaled sharply.
It hit him like déjà vu—the feeling of remembering a dream he never had. Muscle memory bloomed in his shoulders and wrists. His breathing slowed instinctively, synchronizing to an unfamiliar tempo. In his mind's eye, he saw patterns: strike zones, timing, counterweight shifts. The doctrine wasn't a sword style. It was a language—and he spoke it fluently, without ever lifting a blade.
He laughed softly.
"This is good," he muttered. "This is very, very good."
A shadow crossed the grass.
He looked up.
A figure stood at the top of the slope, arms folded, armor glinting under the sun.
Princess Lysaria Aldros.
Up close, her presence was colder than her appearance. Her braid was pulled back in a severe military knot, her half-plate armor pristine and fitted for movement. Her expression held none of her younger sister's warmth. Her eyes—gray, focused, deeply disappointed—locked onto his like a nail meeting wood.
"You."
Kael blinked. "Me."
She descended the slope slowly.
"You're the one with no class. No blessing. No use."
Kael leaned back lazily. "Depends who you ask."
She stopped a few paces away. "Sir Garron is risking time and resources training nobodies. And here you are, hiding under a tree like a coward."
"Strategic observation," he said dryly.
She stepped closer. "You're dead weight. You'll be the first to die. Probably get someone else killed with you. Maybe that's what the Goddess meant for you."
His eyes didn't waver.
"Maybe she made a mistake."
"She didn't," Lysaria said coldly. "She simply left the trash at the bottom."
Kael smiled. It didn't reach his eyes.
"People like you," he said softly, "love to look down. Just be careful what's growing in the dirt."
She narrowed her eyes, scoffed, then turned and climbed the slope without another word.
Kael leaned back again and closed his eyes.
[Tatsuya Minoru has acquired: Footwork Mastery I]
[Returning Resonance…]
He smirked.
"Keep training, golden boy."