The air cracked.

  Lucius stepped to the side at the exact moment the pressure around him shifted. A second later, his hair was whipped by a gust of wind that passed through the space where his head had been moments before.

  In the next instant, it happened again.

  He moved to the opposite side, feeling the displacement of air brush against his skin.

  Hmm… it’s better. But this still isn’t it.

  They said that in order to feel one’s own Aura, it was necessary to possess a special kind of sensitivity toward it. Something that went beyond the five common senses.

  But that raised an uncomfortable question.

  If such a sense existed, which one was it?

  Or rather… why treat it as something separate?

  According to the accounts, this sensitivity could not be seen, nor heard, nor touched. It did not manifest directly. It was simply… felt.

  Then a thought occurred to him.

  What if this sense is merely atrophied?

  If he were forced to rely on it, perhaps he could develop it. Perhaps he could surpass the limitations imposed by his lack of natural talent.

  The problem was obvious.

  How do you train something you don’t understand? A sense whose effects cannot be clearly observed?

  Lucius’s answer had been simple.

  Eliminate what he did understand.

  Since the beginning of his training, he had been depriving himself of sight, forcing his body to compensate for its absence.

  And indeed, there had been progress.

  Without sight, his hearing became sharper. His sense of touch, more sensitive. Even his sense of smell seemed to pick up nuances he had previously ignored.

  But as for what he was truly seeking…

  Lucius took a step back.

  At that same instant, a gust of wind sliced through the space in front of his face.

  He frowned slightly.

  I have no way to say whether this is the result of Aura… or just sharper reflexes.

  Extending his hand, Lucius grabbed the object coming toward him and removed the blindfold from his eyes.

  It was a stone, tied to a sturdy rope, attached to one of the branches of the surrounding trees.

  Besides it, there were another dozen swinging around him. The purpose of this training required no explanation.

  “You’re stopping already, young master?” Mira asked, watching from a safe distance.

  Lucius nodded as he walked toward her.

  The maid had an admiring look on her face.

  “It’s incredible, young master. You’re already able to dodge them for several minutes without being hit even once.”

  At the beginning of the training, out of every three strikes, Lucius had been hit by one. Looking at it from that point alone, his progress had been tremendous.

  But it wasn’t that simple. Over time, the trajectories of the objects became predictable, and dodging them ceased to be a real challenge. Added to that, the refinement of his hearing made it increasingly easy to identify the origin of the “attacks.” Considering these factors, his true progress was far smaller than the apparent results suggested.

  The refinement of my hearing is certainly useful…

  But that wasn’t the goal of this training. What he wanted was an improvement in the “sense” responsible for Aura.

  I think it’s time to make things a little more difficult.

  “Mira, go to the mansion and bring me some cotton.”

  She looked at him curiously.

  “Cotton? What do you want that for, young master?”

  Lucius furrowed his brows.

  “Go immediately.”

  “Yes!” Mira said as she spun around and ran toward the mansion.

  That girl…

  Lucius shook his head while waiting for the maid’s return. A few minutes later, she came running back.

  “Here it is… young master…” Mira said, slightly out of breath as she offered him the cotton. “I had to ask Julia, one of the older maids. Now imagine a really annoying woman. Would you believe that the other day she—”

  Interrupting the maid’s monologue, Lucius took the cotton from her hands and tore off two small pieces. Wetting them with water from his canteen, he placed them in his ears.

  The world did not go silent immediately.

  At first, sounds began to feel distant, as if passing through a thick layer of water. The wind was still there, but it seemed to have lost its sharpness.

  Lucius inhaled slowly.

  Strange.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  The absence of sound did not create emptiness—it created weight.

  The space around him felt denser, as if something invisible occupied the place once filled by noise.

  He slowly moved his head. He did not hear the sound of movement.

  “Say something,” he said.

  Mira blinked in surprise but obeyed.

  Nothing.

  Her voice reached him only as a diffuse vibration, without a clear direction. He could see her speaking, the movement of her lips. But the sound… never fully formed.

  That’ll do.

  Lucius picked up a wooden sword nearby and handed it to the maid before putting the blindfold back on.

  “Attack me,” he said.

  One, three, five, ten seconds passed, but no attack came.

  Frowning, Lucius removed the blindfold.

  Mira was gripping the sword with both hands close to her chest, a look of panic on her face.

  “Didn’t you hear me? I told you to attack.”

  She replied hurriedly. He couldn’t hear what she was saying, but from her expression, Lucius could already imagine it.

  “Just attack already,” he said in a tone that did not allow disobedience, before putting the blindfold back on once more.

  “Ugh…!”

  A moment after replacing the blindfold, he felt an impact strike his arm. Instinctively, he raised it to block, but the hit had already landed.

  Looks like she got irritated, Lucius thought as he waited for the next attack.

  It didn’t take long. This time, Mira aimed for his leg. Lucius felt a dull blow to the spot, once again reacting only after the strike.

  He frowned. But his expression worsened even further when he was hit in the ribs moments later, stepping back instinctively in the opposite direction of the blow.

  The maid’s initial hesitation disappeared completely, her attacks falling upon Lucius every few seconds—attacks he failed to dodge even once.

  This is harder than I imagined, he thought as he “dodged” one of Mira’s strikes.

  Without hearing, the attacks didn’t “arrive” before happening. There was no warning, no perceptible change in the air, no indication that could be interpreted in time. When the impact came, it was already too late.

  Lucius clenched his teeth with every blow. He saw the problem clearly.

  Before, sound served as a marker. A minimal interval, but enough to anticipate the trajectory. Now, that interval had disappeared entirely.

  The attacks simply… happened. The body reacted, but always late. Always after.

  Another strike hit his shoulder. Lucius twisted his torso instinctively, but the wood had already found its mark.

  No… not yet.

  He took a step back, adjusting his stance.

  It wasn’t a lack of strength or speed—it was perception. Without hearing, the world seemed to jump from one state to another, without transition.

  An attack came from the right.

  Lucius tried to move the instant he felt the change in the air—too late. The wooden sword scraped across his ribs and he fell to the ground.

  “Ugh…!”

  In the next moment, he felt Mira’s hands—one on his shoulder, the other on his face—removing the blindfold that covered his eyes. The maid wore a worried expression, speaking words he couldn’t understand, but whose meaning he could infer.

  Unnecessary concern.

  He clicked his tongue.

  “I’m fine. You can continue,” he said as he stood up and put the blindfold back on.

  Several seconds later, a blow struck Lucius’s shoulder. Once again, he reacted an instant too late.

  Still not yet.

  The training continued for another hour. In total, there were 417 strikes, of which he managed to dodge only 20. When it ended, his entire body ached. Now, in addition to the muscular pain from physical training, there was the pain from the blows he had taken, making his whole body throb.

  But Lucius was not dissatisfied. Of course, the result was far from satisfactory. But at least now he had a new metric by which to test his progress—and that was a good thing.

  “Let’s go,” he said as he walked toward the mansion. It was time for lunch.

  Hm? What a coincidence.

  Along the way, Lucius ran into his two younger siblings: Alex and Camille.

  Did their training just end?

  It was already close to noon. Normally, Elliot ended training around eleven. Had his siblings annoyed the instructor, forcing him to make them train longer than usual as punishment?

  Just as Lucius noticed his siblings, they noticed him as well.

  “Were you training, Lucius?” Alex asked.

  But immediately afterward, he wore a strange expression, glancing from side to side hesitantly.

  “Uh, I mean, actually—ugh…!”

  Camille elbowed him, silencing Alex completely.

  “Let’s go,” she said as she grabbed his arm and quickened her pace.

  Mira didn’t like that. Although she said nothing, the look she shot at the siblings made her feelings clear.

  “Young master…”

  She looked at him hesitantly, but Lucius merely shook his head, telling her to forget about it.

  Returning to his room and taking a quick bath, Lucius arrived just in time for the beginning of the meal—and to hear the good news brought by Camille.

  “Father, Mother, Alex managed to feel his Aura today,” she said in the middle of the meal.

  “H-Hey, Camille, I told you not to—”

  “Hmph. Don’t think you beat me just because you felt your Aura first. You started training earlier, so you can expect that I’ll feel mine soon too,” she said, cutting off her brother’s words.

  “That is certainly good news,” Helena said after several seconds of silence.

  Cédric nodded, a satisfied look on his face, and in his characteristic tone delivered a “Very good,” making Alex’s cheeks turn red.

  Yuria, while stroking her daughter’s head, also praised Alex and Helena.

  “It must be a source of pride for you, Helena, to have a son like Alex,” she said with a smile.

  “Yes, he is a very good boy,” Helena nodded, always maintaining her composure and elegance.

  A small smile appeared on Lucius’s face.

  “Well done,” he said to his brother.

  The praise caught Alex by surprise, leaving him unsure of what to say, before finally returning a shy “thank you.”

  In any case, it was good news that his brother had managed to feel his own Aura. And in what—just a little over six months of training?

  He’s definitely a prodigy.

  Lucius nodded to himself, satisfied.

  Camille wasn’t far behind Alex, so it was likely that she too would soon manage to feel her Aura.

  With this good news, the atmosphere at lunch was genuinely pleasant—or at least, that’s how Lucius felt. After finishing, he returned to his room, quickly changing clothes and heading toward the Study Hall to attend Johan’s lessons.

  “Young master…”

  When he arrived, Johan was already waiting for him, a strange expression on his face. Ever since their lessons resumed, this had been the expression Johan wore whenever he looked at him, so Lucius paid it little mind.

  Previously, his lessons began a bit later, but at Lucius’s request, the schedule had been moved up by an hour. This way, he could make better use of his time. Johan, still likely feeling guilty over everything that had happened between them, felt compelled to comply with Lucius’s request.

  “Yesterday, we stopped at the founding history of the Kingdom, so we’ll continue from there. Ragnar Israel was—”

  To Lucius, these lessons were nothing more than a waste of time, but they were the compromise he had reached in order to return to training, so he listened attentively.

  That said, there was no longer any active participation on his part. For most of the time, it was simply Johan speaking. Only when a question was directed at him did Lucius respond, and his answers were as brief and formal as possible. The effort he put in was just enough to show that he was fulfilling his part of the agreement, and that seemed to bother Johan quite a bit, even though he tried not to show it.

  After finishing his studies in the afternoon, Lucius resumed his training, continuing until dinnertime, and then returned to his bed.

  Before, Mira accompanied him twenty-four hours a day, but that was no longer the case, and the maid now had her evenings free. Lucius thought she would be happy with the reduced workload—after all, he assumed normal people liked having free time to themselves—but that didn’t seem to be the case. She received this new arrangement with an irritated look.

  Strange girl.

  Lucius shook his head. He had given up trying to understand that maid’s mind. No—he had never really tried in the first place, and he wasn’t about to start now.

  Putting the blindfold back over his eyes and covering his ears, Lucius spent the rest of the time pacing around the room.

  If he wanted his body to grow accustomed to sensory deprivation, he had to spend most of his time in that state. Training alone wasn’t enough. If he could, he would stay like that all day, but he could already imagine his father taking issue with it, so he chose not to.

  He continued like this until the end of the night, when it was time to try sensing his Aura. Unlike before, he no longer spent as much time doing this—one hour at most. Because, as it seemed to him, investing more time didn’t mean faster results.

  As long as my sensitivity and my body aren’t good enough, spending hours and hours trying to feel my Aura makes no sense.

  The focus should be on improving his body and his sensitivity. The rest would come as a consequence.