Four years later
The Mistborn Castle remained much the same as it had always been, majestic, serene, and steeped in its ancient legacy. But within its walls, Ethan had transformed. No longer the small, wide-eyed boy of a few years ago, he now carried himself with the composure and presence of someone far older. Though still a child, his demeanour and physique gave him the air of a twelve or thirteen-year-old, a testament to his rigorous training in the Arctic Sovereign Immortal Body Technique.
Ethan's POV
The clang of metal echoed across the castle's training grounds as I sparred with Aurelia. We both wielded short swords, clad in light armour that allowed for agility while still providing protection. This was a practice I had suggested years ago, a decision that had now become a regular part of our training regimen.
The rationale behind my suggestion was straightforward: while magic was a powerful tool, it wasn't a universal gift. The majority of humanity lacked magical talent. In fact, only one in a hundred people could wield magic, and even among those, many only had low talent and were only able to develop rudimentary abilities and live short lives. This meant that the backbone of city militias and imperial armies was composed of regular soldiers, with specialized mage battalions serving as elite units.
More importantly, even mages weren't invincible. Magical power could be exhausted, leaving them as vulnerable as any untrained civilian. Unlike certain races like the eastern barbarians with their robust physiques, or beings like the giant demons, vampires, and trolls, who possessed inherently powerful bodies, human mages lacked any inherent physical superiority. Thus, knowing how to defend oneself with mundane weapons or even bare hands was not just practical; it was essential.
When I first proposed incorporating physical combat training into my regimen as I had begun walking down the path of a body refiner, my grandfather had been pleasantly surprised. It aligned perfectly with his own plans to train me in cold mortal weapons and hand-to-hand combat techniques. The fact that I had anticipated this on my own and articulated such sound reasoning had clearly impressed him. I could still recall the pride in his eyes that day.
Today's match with Aurelia was another step in that ongoing journey. Her long hair flowed freely as she moved with the grace of the wind, her blade slicing through the air with a swift arc. I parried with precision, each motion calculated like a carefully played chess move. Despite my capabilities, I held back, ensuring my progress appeared as that of a naturally talented but normal youngster.
Our sparring was laced with faint smiles, but the intensity in our movements was undeniable. We pushed each other to grow stronger, each strike and counterstrike a testament to our shared determination. Seizing an opening, I made a sharp turn and unleashed three consecutive slashes from different angles, each one delivered with calculated force.
Aurelia struggled to maintain her defence, and just as she began to recover from my third strike, I made a sudden move. With precision honed over years of practice, I threw a knife aimed at the hilt of her sword. The impact, combined with the lingering vibrations of my last attack, caused the weapon to slip from her grip and clatter to the ground.
In the midst of her surprise, she lost her balance and began to fall backward. Reacting instinctively, I reached out, catching her wrist and pulling her toward me. My arm slid around her waist, steadying her as she came to rest against my chest.
For a brief moment, our eyes met. The faint flush on her cheeks contrasted with her usual confidence. I held her close, a playful smile tugging at my lips as I looked down at her. "Gotcha," I said teasingly, my voice laced with amusement.
She looked up at me, and for a moment, it felt as if time itself had come to a halt. The world around us faded into insignificance, leaving only the two of us in that charged instant. I could feel the tension building between us, an unspoken energy in the air. Then, without warning, Aurelia tiptoed and pressed her lips gently against mine.
I froze, my eyes flying open in surprise as I registered what was happening. Her eyes were closed, her face serene, and her soft lips merely brushed against mine. It was an innocent, fleeting gesture, one that spoke more than words ever could. I couldn't help but smile inwardly at her bold yet endearingly pure action.
The kiss lasted only a few seconds before she pulled back, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson. She stood with her head bowed, her fingers tightly clutching the fabric of her dress. Her nervousness was palpable, the uncertainty of her actions written across her fidgeting hands and trembling stance.
This was our first kiss, a moment neither of us could have anticipated, yet it carried a weight that neither could deny. Until now, our relationship had been that of close friends—playful, supportive, and uncomplicated. But this unexpected act had shifted the dynamic. I had experiences in kisses with my mother so I thought to teach her how a real kiss is performed, this thought came in my mind and I couldn't help but evilly smile.
Without saying a word, I reached out and gently grasped Aurelia's hand, leading her away from the training grounds. My grip was firm but not forceful, and I walked with purpose, keeping my back to her purposefully to hide my emotions and keep her in suspense. I didn't need to look back to sense her nervousness as it was palpable in the way she hesitated before following, the soft shuffling of her steps betraying her uncertainty.
We walked in silence until we reached a secluded spot in the castle's garden, under the shelter of a towering conifer tree. The air was still, the world quiet except for the faint rustling of leaves above us. Turning abruptly, I gently pushed her back against the tree, and leaning close to her ears I whispered, my voice low and teasing,
"Aurelia, let me show you how a real kiss is done."
Her ears turned crimson at my words, and I could feel the rhythm of her racing heartbeat. She stiffened slightly, her breath catching as I cupped her cheeks in my hands, my thumbs brushing against her warm skin and red lips. Before she could protest, I pressed my lips to hers, the softness of the contact silencing any words she might have spoken.
At first, she stood motionless, as if caught off guard by my boldness. Her lips were hesitant, unresponsive, but I paused only to murmur softly against her, "Open your lips."
Her lips parted slightly, and I deepened the kiss, my movements deliberate yet tender. I guided her into the rhythm, her uncertainty slowly giving way to trust. A faint, muffled sound escaped her, a shy, unintentional "Mmm~" and I felt her small fists press lightly against my chest in a futile attempt to push me away. But her resistance was half-hearted, and her trembling fingers curled slightly against me instead.
I slowed the kiss gradually, pulling back just enough to rest my forehead against hers. Her eyes fluttered open, dazed and shining with unspoken emotions. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips slightly swollen, and she avoided my gaze as she fidgeted nervously with her hands.
"See?" I said with a soft chuckle, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"
Her lips twitched into a shy smile, and though she didn't respond with words, the sparkle in her eyes told me everything I needed to know. Before I could continue she suddenly ran away from my hold towards the castle and I didn't stop her.
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