Elric disappeared.
Not into smoke. Not into flash or thunder.
He simply stepped forward—
—and vanished.
Lucien's eyes tracked every detail. The bend of Elric's ankle, the breath held in his throat, the slight surge of mana through his joints—not concentrated but diffused, spread like ink in water.
Umbral Step.
Not a teleport. Not speed.
Something subtler.
A choice to be unnoticed.
Lucien exhaled slowly. "Again."
Elric reappeared a meter away, blade hanging low, face pale but focused.
He nodded, then reset.
Another step.
Gone again.
This time, he emerged behind a target dummy, cutting clean across its midsection before the blade made a sound.
Lucien stepped forward and touched the dummy's severed torso. Still warm. Still twitching.
"Elric," he said, voice low, "You've grasped the essence."
Elric's shoulders were trembling—not from fatigue, but from something heavier.
"I wasn't ready," he murmured. "For how it feels."
Lucien knew exactly what he meant.
The first time he used Umbral Step, back when the skill first bloomed through countless failures, he'd felt it too—that strange emptiness where his presence should have been. It wasn't just invisibility or stealth. It was removal. A step that erased the self from the moment.
For warriors raised on honor and presence, it was disconcerting. For Elric, who'd once sworn to protect like his parents had, it felt like betrayal.
But Lucien placed a hand on his shoulder.
"The battlefield doesn't care how noble your stance is," he said. "But it remembers the survivors."
Elric looked down. "Is this how you fight?"
Lucien didn't answer. Not with words.
Instead, he stepped back. Raised his blade. And vanished.
What followed wasn't a duel. It was a demonstration.
Lucien didn't just use Umbral Step—he wove with it. He moved in patterns Elric couldn't follow. Each shift was mathematical, each blur of his body measured down to heartbeat and breath. When his sword struck, it was not from a position of aggression, but inevitability.
He ended the sequence with a strike that stopped just shy of Elric's neck.
Then he froze.
And smiled.
"You're not me," Lucien said. "And you shouldn't try to be."
Elric didn't flinch.
"I'm learning," he whispered. "Not to follow, but to walk my own path in the dark."
Lucien dropped his sword's point to the ground, satisfied.
"Then you're ready for the next form."
---
That night, Elric stood in his room, drenched in sweat. The walls were quiet, the halls still.
But his mind raced.
Over and over, he stepped forward, trying to feel the exact rhythm of the Umbral Step—where his weight should be, how his mana should disperse. He realized it wasn't just about movement, but intention.
To disappear, he had to mean it.
He had to want to be unseen.
The memories of his parents flashed through his mind—his mother's hands healing broken ribs, his father's voice calling out orders in the chaos of battle. They had never vanished. They had faced death with glowing resolve.
But he was something else now.
Not a knight. Not a healer. Not yet a commander.
A Shadow Blade.
With trembling hands, he wrapped the hilt of his weapon, then drew the blade across the candlelight in his room.
The flame flickered.
He stepped forward—
And vanished into the dark.
---
Down in the training caverns, Lucien reviewed his Proficiency Panel.
> Shadow Sword: Form I – Silent Fang – Lv. 10 [Evolved]
Shadow Sword: Form II – Umbral Step – Lv. 3 [Developmental]
Shadow Sword System Integration: 17%
The skills were evolving, just as they should.
But it wasn't just his.
Lucien glanced sideways, where a second panel hovered—only visible to him, thanks to Eye of Data.
[Subject: Elric]
> Trait: Shadow Soldier (SS+)
Skill: Shadow Sword – Umbral Step Lv. 1
Affinity: 82%
Potential Awakening: [Pending - Mental Trigger Required]
Psychological Stability: 61%
Loyalty: 99%
Lucien folded his arms.
Elric was growing fast—faster than expected.
But that 61%…
There was still grief there. Still hesitation. Still the boy who had lost his parents in fire and blood.
Lucien closed the panel.
He would not push Elric into darkness. Not fully.
He would let him choose—because the true strength of a Shadow Blade wasn't vanishing.
It was returning.
---
Outside, the moon lit the training grounds.
And somewhere within the courtyard's shadows, a young man moved—quiet, sharp, and unseen.
Each step closer to the warrior he was meant to be.
Each step carved from fear, loss, and loyalty.
Each step—
An Umbral Step.