Jacobin IV sat cross-legged on the stone floor, closed his eyes, and drew in a deep breath.

I swallowed without realizing it.

When one trained in electric arts, sparks of lightning accompanied it. When one trained in wind arts, a small vortex formed.

I wondered what would accompany the training of sword aura reinforcement.

Would a light both cold and burning burst forth?

A faint tension gripped me, and my palms grew damp.

Ten seconds.

“……”

Thirty seconds.

“……”

One minute.

“……”

No matter how long I waited, nothing happened.

“What are you doing right now?”

I asked cautiously, but Jacobin IV did not respond.

“Shh.”

“No, what is this supposed to— is this even okay?”

Had Joi perhaps cut him too deeply when she captured him, leaving him with an irreversible internal injury?

Just as that thought crossed my mind, the air around Jacobin IV changed.

It was a presence difficult to describe in words.

If one had to force a comparison, it felt as though Jacobin IV’s body had grown two or three times larger.

Saaaaaa—

An energy, like flames yet also like heat haze, rose from his body—gentle, yet vibrant.

It bloomed from deep within his heart, flowed through his veins to circulate his entire body, then returned once more to the heart like sunlight.

“Huuuu.”

With each deep breath, the energy he absorbed from the atmosphere was refined, wavering like a mirage as it layered itself over that inner flame.

Judging by appearances alone, it was not particularly remarkable.

Whether one called it starlight or heat haze, such expressions were merely sensory metaphors. There were no visible phenomena like those accompanying the use of true authority.

And yet, to my eyes, this training resembled electric arts training.

The process by which current flowed from a training machine, spread through the limbs, and gathered at the heart.

The pain and exhilaration my body, imbued with lightning, experienced every time.

Only, the power Jacobin IV drew in and held was not electricity from a machine, but the natural mana that filled the air, the earth, the water, and the fire.

“This is the origin of sword aura reinforcement.”

He opened his eyes and spoke quietly.

Within his red pupils flickered a light like dawn.

“We call this ‘mana cultivation.’ Swordsmanship, bodily enhancement—everything requires the accumulation of this mana.”

Jacobin IV opened his palm.

A flame-like shimmer gathered there briefly, then faded.

“Mana is a universal energy that fills every corner of this world. It is not monopolized by anyone and is open to all. Therefore, it is equal—and revolutionary.”

Jacobin IV’s voice gradually gained force.

“It requires no inborn blood like that of your great-house lineages, nor does it demand adherence to doctrines and precepts like the church or the marksman school. Only training, perseverance, and will open the path. That is why, someday, we will be able to overthrow you. With that power.”

Frey, standing beside me with arms crossed, frowned.

“The more I listen, the more convincing it sounds. I don’t like it.”

His displeased gaze turned toward me.

As if asking, Do we really have to listen to this? Can’t we just hit him for offending our sensibilities?

I did not respond.

“Hm.”

Crackle!

Instead, I let a faint current flow and compared the “mana cultivation” Jacobin IV demonstrated with the flow of my own electric arts.

Though they appeared to be different paths, the structure—circulating energy through the heart and blood vessels—was remarkably similar.

“If it’s such an incredible power, why is your warrior corps still just a handful?”

Partly because of Frey’s reaction, and partly because I had no desire to see this man grow more self-satisfied, I asked the question.

“I’ve heard your organization has existed for centuries. If this power is truly so universal and equal, why can’t the sons of knightly houses all use this mana?”

Jacobin IV’s lips trembled.

“Th-that is… because revolutionary class consciousness has not yet fully developed!”

His red eyes flickered like a candle in the wind.

“So in the end, there is a difference in talent, isn’t there?”

I sneered.

“D-do not undermine our revolutionary nature with such reactionary language!”

His tone had already grown bizarre.

“All living, breathing, oppressed humans are potential proletarian warriors! The only difference is the degree of their awakening!”

Jacobin IV shouted, gesturing wildly.

“Awakening? Isn’t that just another word for talent?”

I drove the point in like a blade.

“N-no! When a revolutionary leader calls out, the masses awaken! A man who baked bread or carried bricks yesterday can wield mana today!”

Jacobin IV spun sophistry without hesitation.

“So by your logic, someone who did menial labor yesterday can wield sword aura reinforcement today?”

“That is correct! That is the revolutionary magical realization of historical materialism!”

What in the world was “revolutionary magic.”

I let out a sigh and shook my head.

“You know it yourself, don’t you? That just because you see it, you can’t do it immediately. That’s why you showed this to me.”

Jacobin IV flinched, then finally lowered his head.

“Enough. I’ll try practicing on my own for now. If it doesn’t work, I’ll call you again.”

“Revolution is long, and comrade is still short.”

Jacobin IV muttered a bizarre conclusion.

“This guy is seriously funny. That’s enough, right? Let’s go.”

Frey let out a hollow laugh and grabbed him.

“Even if Revolution is betrayed, the betrayer shall be revolutionized!”

Jacobin IV shouted even as he was dragged away.

Can I trust even a single word that man said?

I pressed a hand to my head.

The training ground of Sky Castle.

Wind brushed past the cliff, and beyond the open expanse, shadows of clouds drifted leisurely over islands large and small.

“This is our chance to uncover their secret.”

I sat cross-legged on the training ground floor alongside Frey, Nereus, and Vane.

“Hmph. Why should we be imitating the techniques of those revolutionary warriors?”

Nereus growled in dissatisfaction.

“That’s exactly why we have to learn it—so we can crush them properly.”

Frey shrugged with a sly grin.

“It is an honor to be summoned by you, Senior. I, Vane, will not fail your expectations.”

Vane straightened his back and bowed.

I suppressed a laugh.

At least I gathered three. Good. Even if this turns into a heresy issue with the church, Nereus won’t be able to stab me in the back.

The minimum political safeguards were in place.

“Shall we begin?”

We steadied our breathing and drew up mana.

Crackle!

A pale-blue current flashed through my veins, racing across my limbs.

A familiar sensation.

…This is just electric arts training, isn’t it?

I became certain something was going wrong.

I did not know what exactly, but something was definitely wrong.

I glanced to the side.

Crackle!

“Ghh.”

Crackle, crackle!

“Ugh.”

Zzzrrrt!

“Haa… haa.”

Dark-blue current flowed through Frey’s body, crimson through Nereus’s, and golden through Vane’s.

They were all the same.

“Kyrie, this isn’t working.”

Frey complained, raising an eyebrow.

“Exactly. There’s no way this makes sense. The moment we raise mana, it immediately turns into lightning. That’s the nature of electric-arts users, isn’t it?”

Nereus muttered harshly.

“Senior, then does that mean those people handle mana purely in its raw state?”

Vane wiped the sweat from his forehead and asked politely.

“F-for now, let’s keep going.”

“……”

“……”

I forced myself to continue concentrating.

Drawing out mana with the full control of my Thunderbolt Body.

But what manifested was always the same lightning.

Failure.

Another failure.

“Sh-should we try a little longer?”

“……”

“……”

Sweat ran down the back of my neck.

Four different colors of lightning flickered across the training ground, yet pure mana never once spread.

“Argh! This is so frustrating! So frustrating!”

Frey sprang to his feet, clutching his head.

“Hmph. I’ll go train Heavenly Thunderbolt instead! Why should a Comet Rank of House Astreos learn some heretical power like this? You can experiment all you want for fun, Kyrie, but I’m done!”

Nereus clenched his teeth and stood as well.

“Senior, it seems this power called sword aura reinforcement is something the stronger an electric-arts user is, the less capable they are of handling it.”

Vane rose respectfully.

“And why do you think that?”

“Because we have the talent not only to gather mana, but to convert that mana into lightning by nature. That is why we are electric-arts users.”

He continued, showing the yellow sparks dancing across the back of his hand.

“But sword aura reinforcement requires that mana flow as pure mana, without converting it into lightning. It is fundamentally incompatible with us. Whether one has sacrificed an eye like you, or an arm like me—no, perhaps because we have sacrificed, it is even more so.”

Vane bowed his head quietly.

“I too believe I cannot wield this power.”

He shook his head and stepped away from the training ground.

The empty training ground.

Only I remained.

I slowly looked down from Sky Castle.

The sunset stretched long across the estuary.

The waters swallowed the last light in dim waves, and the shadows of the islands along the riverbank grew endlessly long.

Is it really impossible?

My heart beat uncomfortably.

Then Vane’s words came back to me.

You must not convert it?

I sat cross-legged once more.

My Thunderbolt Body was now over 2000%.

Every training I had undergone until now had been about exerting stronger control over lightning that sought to burst outward, directing it more precisely.

This time was the opposite.

Like loosening a leash, I let it go.

Woooong—

The power rising from my heart spread in all directions.

Until now, it had always been reconstructed into lightning racing endlessly toward the sky.

I left it alone.

Like that river holding the last light of the sun, I let it flow as the blood flowed—freely, naturally.

Crackle, crack!

White lightning burst forth.

Yet the sensation was different.

More opaque.

More gentle.

It felt as though a warm yet heavy liquid flowed through my veins.

I slowly opened my eyes.

The lightning extending across my skin was still sharp and white.

But beneath it, a faint, layered glow flowed.

Like dawn sunlight seeping between waves—quietly.

I continued breathing deeply.

Deeper, and deeper.

Until now, I had scorched myself with electric arts and passively absorbed mana as if recovering.

Now, I actively drew it in.

The world is difficult to understand.

Lightning, which must be seized with force, increases mana through being struck and left alone.

Starlight, which flows gently, increases mana through fierce consumption.

Perhaps that is why I became a realist.

“So this is what you’ve been doing, instead of coming to your room?”

A familiar voice spoke.

I turned my head.

It was Erica.

The hem of her fitted dress fluttered lightly in the wind.

Her jade-colored eyes quietly took in the lightning and sunlight flowing over my body.

“We should have breakfast together.”

She raised the corner of her lips slightly.

“Go wash up.”

Breakfast?

I looked up at the eastern sky.

Dawn was spreading across it.

It was already morning.

“This is impossible…!”

Jacobin IV’s jaw dropped.

I demonstrated while sitting cross-legged.

Crackle, crack!

A faint milky-white mana shimmered like heat haze, blending with pure white lightning.

The light flickered like lightning dispersing within thin clouds—unstable, yet beautiful.

“O red star of Revolution, behold! Fraud is occurring before our eyes!”

Jacobin IV clutched his head and shook it violently.

“For a ruling great-house noble to monopolize even the flame of equality! This is betrayal of the Revolution! Revisionism! Opportunism! Apostasy of all apostasy!”

I calmly gathered power into my palm.

Woooong!

The mana gently wrapped around a flash of lightning.

This seemed to be true lightning energy.

Since it had mixed with sword aura reinforcement, perhaps it could be called lightning reinforcement.

“Why! Why does such a powerful electric-arts user gain even the equal power meant for us! The dialectic of history has collapsed!”

Jacobin IV dropped to the ground, flailing his fists at the air.

“This is the usurpation of Revolution by the nobility! A regression of history!”

He cried out like the protagonist of a tragedy.

His eyes, however, were completely serious, which made it even more absurd.

A look as if he were wondering whether to risk his life to take my head now, or to surrender while spouting something about revolutionary progress.

“Now teach me the swordsmanship that uses this sword aura reinforcement. As promised. Revolution or sword aura—words alone are meaningless, aren’t they? Even Blue Knights don’t do that.”

I steadied his fragile mind.

This was not surrender, merely keeping a promise.

No need to feel guilty at all.

“You are even more dangerous than other heirs of the great houses.”

Jacobin IV let out a deep sigh.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

I smiled.

Chapter 194

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