His congratulations were short, but Cyrus understood that he truly felt love for his child. In some abnormal but, at the same time, fatherly way.
It was a stark contrast to Cyrus' father back home, who was down-to-earth, quite lax and playful.
"Today is not only the day you turn sixteen, but also the day that we send you off to the academy. In light of that, your mother and I have prepared something very special."
His speech was formal, as if rehearsing what he was saying. He glanced at Cian, prompting Cyrus to do the same. With a childish smile, Cian put his hands to his mouth and shouted.
"Elijah! Come here!"
Soon after, footsteps rushed towards Cyrus. He could tell they were of a small person from the sound. Then, a high-pitched voice frantically shouted.
"Coming!"
Shortly, a figure appeared. It was a small child, he had immature features and greenish eyes, and bore a striking resemblance to Cyrus when he was young.
"This is your present!"
Christian Hawthorne, Cyrus's little brother.
He seemed enthusiastic, and I had no reason to ruin his mood.
"Ta-da! It's a combat manual! Mom and Dad knew you'd need one for the academy, so they bought one for you!"
'Hmm.. A combat manual?'
Information came flooding in.
A manual assists in fighting; It would be better to refer to them as fighting styles. They weren't all unique, some were, but others seemed to be mass-produced.
The unique ones tended to be of a high tier; the ranking system was from 5 to 0, with 0 being the strongest and 5 being the weakest.
That's not to say that a tier 5 manual couldn't offer greater combat abilities than a tier 4. It's just that it was unlikely
'Quite nuanced.'
Cyrus smiled
"Thank you.. very much."
Cyrus was smiling, but his eyes betrayed a hint of anguish, partially because it had been so long since he had experienced anything like this, especially since he had been diagnosed…
and partially since he didn't know how to feel.
'What do I do? I can't tell them, can I? Even if I did, would I stay with them in this world or would I try to find a way home?'
Cyrus was fascinated by this new world. However, he still had so much to say.
To his dad, to Sandy, to everyone in his past life, though not many, he had gotten a second chance.
A chance to make everything right…That was assuming he could even get back home.
'This is a world of magic…What if my past life's memories were simply the effect of some evil powerhouse or a unique injury?'
"You don't have to thank us."
Cyrus snapped out of thought and looked towards his speaking mother.
"We didn't do this for thanks and welcomes. We did it for you. And.. We hope you will try your best at the academy regardless of what happens."
'Regardless of what happens..? they don't seem awfully confident in me…'
Cyrus' mother wrapped her arms around his shoulders and brought him close. He was taller than her, so it looked quite awkward, but Cyrus knew that it was anything but for her.
Letting go, she spoke and turned to look at Elijah, who held the combat manual, and Cian, who had his arms crossed with a small grin on his face.
"Happy sixteenth birthday, Cyrus."
Lastly, his father glanced at him with stern acknowledgement.
Cyrus felt my head throb, but kept his expression constant. The smile on his face never left, yet his heart remained still.
---
Although the cake was prepared beforehand, they decided to eat dinner first.
'No sane person eats a lemon cake before lunch.'
Cyrus' father spoke with authority
"Cian, how is your training going?"
Cian seemed to drop his usual uncaring attitude and replied after swallowing.
"So far so good. I think I'm interpreting my ability pretty well. It won't be long before I beat that red-haired witch. When I reach Apprentice, I should become far stronger than I currently am."
Cyrus was flooded with additional memories of his brother's talent and renown
'Right. Not only is he talented, but hes the predicted to be stronger than father in a couple of decades.'
After a brief moment of silence, his father nodded.
"Cyrus."
Cian spoke, prompting Cyrus to stop tasting the soup and look up at him.
"Let's fight after dinner."
'Fight? I suppose it will be useful, but I've never fought before…'
"Okay."
Cyrus had no reason to refuse. It would equip him with at least some battle experience without posing much risk.
"Make sure to read that manual before you fight me. I'll wait for you outside after dinner; you can take your time understanding it."
Cian stood up and prepared to leave. He stopped as his eyes fell on two objects wrapped in cloth.
"Oh, right, take these."
He handed Cyrus a short sword and a knife, a Karambit knife specifically.
"These come with the manual; they're the main weapons the manual focuses on. Make sure to understand them."
He glanced down at the blades. The Karambit knife bore a crescent-shaped curve and gave the illusion that it was actually a claw rather than a knife. The bottom of the knife was shaped like a ring.
Cyrus figured that his index finger would pass through there as he had seen in movies. But he saved the theory for later and decided to finish eating dinner.
---
Sitting down on his bed, Cyrus observed the two blades. The short sword was relatively simple, allowing for a powerful grip at the bottom while minimising air resistance.
The Karambit knife was a good add-on; depending on how it was used, the karambit was what Cyrus was most unsure about.
He wanted to swing the blades and give them a test run, but he knew what mattered more.
'The manual.'
That's right, with the manual, Cyrus would be able to learn all the theory behind these two weapons in combat… hopefully
Cyrus brought the manual to his lap and slowly opened it. When he did, a system window popped up infront of him
'Use manual?'
As soon as he pressed yes, a familiar sensation hit him.
'This..'
A flood. More information than ever before came rushing into his head. No, it was more than that, his muscles were contracting and taking different shapes.
'This manual integrates knowledge… and muscle memory. That's the difference between a tier low-tier 4 and a high-tier 4 manual."
Cyrus let out a stifled groan as his muscles started to tear and rebuild.
There were many muscles in his body that he had not built, due to him not performing those specific motions.
Although it hurt more than expected, it was bearable. After a short time, the pain disappeared.
'The Karambit knife.. I thought you could only use your index finger to manipulate the weapon, but apparently, there are tricks you can employ with the pinky finger as well.'
That wasn't all, though.
'The short sword also gave me basic insight and understanding into some martial arts I'd never seen before.'
At this point, all that was left was to test the weapons out.
he took out the Karambit knife and placed his index finger in the ring hole, grasping the handle of the blade with his palm.
Its crescent edge stuck out from the ends of his pinky, making for a threatening scene to look at.
Then Cyrus raised his left hand, holding the short sword with it.
The karambit came slashing down in a wide arc, while the short sword stayed near his upper chest. While taking a deep breath, he changed his stance.
His feet moved quickly, and his body was already accommodating the teachings of the manual.
'The Karambit knife has a flicking technique. One where you twist your wrist, letting the blade spring out of your palm, all while it remains in your grasp thanks to your index finger.'
He flicked his wrist, quickly making distance between the imaginary opponent. That interval allowed him to bring the short sword forward, swapping it with the Karambit blade.
The air was sliced diagonally, a slash that, if landed, would definitely cut an opponent's torso in two, if he were superhuman, of course.
Cyrus repeated these movements for a while, letting his mind grow comfortable with their applications. And then his face was laced with a slight frown.
'I can visualise these moves working, but I can't tell if they're practical. What if this is all just one big scam? What if this is not a manual but an envelope, containing the instructions for my death?'
---
Cyrus stood in front of Cian, and he stood in front of Cyrus, a longsword hanging over his shoulder.
"So you're finally ready to fight?"
Cyrus nodded quietly, getting into a stance and going through the moves in his head, trying to think of how he should start.
Cian glanced at him and lowered his long sword. Much to Cyrus' surprise, he dropped his long-sword and cracked his knuckles.
"I won't be needing this just yet. Maybe in the future, but you're nowhere near impressive enough to make me use my sword."
'So he says'
Cyrus was peeved but understood. Admittedly, he was not the strongest of people. especially not in this world. Why would some closing in on Apprentice need to try against him?
Cian suddenly shouted
"Go."
And then he rushed forward.
the distance was closed in an instant, his fists snapped out before Cyrus could fully settle into his stance.
A jab came flying at Cyrus' torso and then another.
he barely got his arm up in time. Yet everywhere cian hit stung.
His punches weren't heavy… he had not lied about holding back.
They just seemed to break past all of Cyrus's defences.
'Is this the gap of experience?'
Cyrus stepped back, boots scraping against the dirt as he tried to meet the third strike with his karambit, its edge catching his forearm for a moment.
Not enough to matter, to Cyrus' disdain.
Cian slipped away effortlessly, weaving around any attempt like he'd seen it coming before Cyrus even moved.
'I need to recuperate, my thoughts are a mess.'
Trying to create distance between him and his brother, he noticed that his breath came out rough and uneven.
'Already…?'
That short exchange alone felt like he'd been ruthlessly poked in all his pressure points and then run a mile.
Meanwhile, Cian hadn't even broken rhythm. He just lowered his guard slightly.
Cyrus took a deep breath and reset his stance, tightening his grip on the Karambit.
With time to breath he shortly reflected on what had happened before he could finish the thought, Cian moved again.
His steps weren't loud, but his shoulders gave the slightest roll forward
Cyrus' thoughts sparked immediately.
'That's the same thing he started with before, if he's repeating that pattern…'
Cyrus shifted his weight, raising the same hand as if to guard.
Cian closed in, his fist snapping straight toward his brother's face.
Instantly, Cyrus slashed downward with the Karambit.
Cian jolted a little and leaned back, just enough to avoid losing a finger.
Exactly what Cyrus had expected, cians fighting style focused on minimal movements, it was eerily similar to boxing
In that tiny gap, Cyrus moved and unsheathed the short sword with his left hand.
In an instant, the distance he created from his Karambit was gone. Still, Cian managed to slip by.
"Tch."
A small, involuntary sound escaped his mouth, and he frowned.
'My plan was good.'
He was certain that it was calculated as best as it could have been.
And yet, it still seemed useless against his brother.
Cian's expression didn't change, but it was obvious he noticed his brother's annoyance.
Then, right as the blade came down, he stepped in low and moved straight at Cyrus.
He dipped under his arm, but stayed in front of his chest.
'What's he doing?'
'Is it an uppercut? Or-'
Before he could finish the thought Cians arm wrapped around his waist from the front, tight and fast.
'Wrestling!?'
The sudden switch caught him off guard. He had been waiting for some boxing move, not this.
'He's not lifting me.'
He was going to tackle him straight back. Reacting on instinct, Cyrus grabbed onto Cian with his left hand and drove the hook of the Karambit into his shoulder blade.
If he slammed Cyrus, the motion would tear into him aswell.
'A simple trade…'
Though Cyrus wasn't confident that this was allowed or that he would win the trade.
For a moment, the blade slid in about two millimetres.
Then everything changed Cians body tightened, something inside him shifted.
His muscles hardened, and Cyrus could feel his bones grow heavier, denser.
The Karambit stopped moving completely, caught in that sudden wall of strength, and the pressure around his waist doubled, making the tackle unavoidable.
The force stunned Cyrus, and the breath was knocked out of his chest. His vision went white for a moment.
'…It hurts.'
His stomach burned, and the back of his head rang.
Forcing his eyes open to look at Cian, Cyus inwardly sighed in relief
'he wasn't following up.'
He rolled his shoulder once, checking the spot where the blade would've cut deeper.
"This fight is over."
Cyrus didn't speak and instead stretched his aching body on the ground, breathing hard.
Cian looked down at him, exhaled slowly, and gave a small, almost guilty smile.
"I had to stop holding back for a second. That counts as cheating… so you win."
Cyrus, invigorated by his questionable victor,y slowly raised himself, sheathing his weapons while patting his torso and pants down.
"You did well. Way better than I expected."
They locked eyes, and Cyrus finally spoke,
"It's thanks to the manual. Not only did it give me combat theory, but also muscle memory."
In response cian gave a chuckle and offered some advice w
"Well, keep this in mind. The enrollment exam is the most difficult thing in the beginning. If you fail that, it's all over."
Cian warned.
"But, if it's not a hunter that you want to be, don't worry about father, I will support you the whole way."
"Okay. I'll do whatever I can to pass."
Cyrus was tired and wanted to sleep, but he had one last thing to ask.
"About the enrollment exam, what's so worrying about it?"
He had known about the academy and the exam itself, but he felt that he should ensure that my memory is not outdated.
"I thought you already knew. It's when you get your innate ability. Without it, never mind becoming strong, you won't even be able to rank up to a Hunter! Hahah. Many people fail here and never get another chance for the rest of their lives."
Cian deepened his voice at the end, as if to shed light on the importance of innate abilities.
The information matched what Cyrus knew, so that was a plus. The exam itself… the contents were unknown. Other than that, he would have to slay a beast.
Cyrus could only wait until arriving at the academy; there seemed to be no other way to know what was coming his way.