The two continued their patrol through the academy until the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon. The night had been uneventful, with no signs of suspicious activity. As the sun rose, Danny arrived to relieve them, his expression calm but attentive.
"How was the patrol?" he asked, his voice carrying a note of professionalism.
Minerva, half-asleep and yawning, gave a tired nod. "Good, good. Nothing out of the ordinary, though," she said, her words slightly slurred from exhaustion.
"I thought as much," Danny replied. "Since an incident just happened, not a lot of students will be outside their rooms. Regardless, go get so rest. We'll take over from here."
Ludwig nodded and bid the two of them goodbye. He didn't have much to do, so he considered returning to the Black Tower. But after his master's advice to rest, there seed little point. Bored and with nothing pressing to occupy his ti, Ludwig found himself wandering aimlessly through the academy grounds until he stumbled upon the arena once more.
As he approached, he heard the sound of heavy breathing and the rhythmic whoosh of a sword cutting through the air. Stepping inside, he saw Professor Joana, her body glistening with sweat as she practiced her sword swings in the early morning light. Her movents were precise and powerful, each swing carrying the weight of years of discipline and training.
"Ludwig," she said, noticing him almost imdiately. "Co and grab a sword."
Ludwig glanced at the weapon rack beside her, which held several training swords. He selected a heavy one, its weight familiar and comforting in his hands.
"Professor Joana," he greeted with a nod, stepping into position beside her.
"I sent your chain and shard to the blacksmith," she said, her voice steady as she continued her swings. "Good news—he actually dropped a eting with the imperial councilor to work on them. I'd expect good results."
Ludwig's eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, really? He can do that?"
"Of course," Joana replied, a hint of pride in her tone. "He's the best smith in the country. Even the emperor respects his ti. He makes all the imperial weapons, after all."
"I see," Ludwig said, his voice thoughtful. He began to mimic Joana's movents, his swings matching hers in pace and precision. The synchronization between them was uncanny, and Joana couldn't help but notice.
"Sothing's different about you," she said, her eyes narrowing slightly as she continued to swing her sword.
"What is it, professor?" Ludwig asked, his tone neutral.
"Your swings," she said, her voice tinged with approval. "They're heavier. I like that. Seems like even for a little monster like you, gaining strength is possible."
Ludwig smirked faintly. "I guess. Since I've been with Master Van Dijk, becoming stronger hasn't been much of an issue."
Joana nodded, her expression thoughtful. "I heard about your eting with that… thing. Two mages fighting against a Swordmaster undead—that must have been a fight to see."
"He wasn't undead," Ludwig corrected, his tone firm.
Joana raised an eyebrow. "The way Van Dijk described him, he sure sounded like one."
Ludwig continued his swings, his movents fluid and controlled. "If he was undead, we would have won more easily. No, he was kept between life and death by the Gluttonous Death—a puppet that cannot live and cannot die. Far from undeath, yet ever so close to it."
Joana's expression grew serious. "I see. Regardless, you were lucky."
"How so?" Ludwig asked, his curiosity piqued.
"From what Van Dijk said, that knight didn't have his 'heart,'" Joana explained.
Ludwig frowned, clearly confused. "What does that an? What is a 'heart' in this context?"
Joana paused her swings and turned to face him, her expression thoughtful. "Aura, Ludwig. Aura. He couldn't use it."
"What is aura?" Ludwig asked, his interest fully captured. "And what does having a heart have to do with it? Is it like a mage's circles?"
"No, completely different," Joana said, her voice firm. She relaxed her posture, and in an instant, her sword was enveloped in a bright green energy that seed to radiate from her very being. The aura was powerful, almost overwhelming in its intensity.
"This," she said, her voice steady, "is aura."
Ludwig's eyes widened, and he imdiately activated his [Trace] ability, hoping to replicate the technique. But a notification flashed before his eyes, dashing his hopes.
[You do not have the necessary accomplishnts to understand or [Trace] '{Aura}']
[Your swordsmanship is too low to understand {Aura}]
The ssage gave Ludwig a rough idea of what he was lacking, but it didn't dampen his curiosity.
"You can't replicate this one, can you?" Joana said, a knowing smile playing on her lips.
Ludwig frowned, surprised that she had guessed his intentions. "How did you know I was trying to replicate it?"
Joana chuckled. "I heard from Van Dijk that the first ti you t him, you tried to replicate his Black Flas. Honestly, I believe you'll have an easier ti generating your own aura before you're at the level of creating sothing like that."
"Is that so?" Ludwig said, his tone thoughtful. "What is aura, then?"
Joana rested her hands on the poml of her sword, its tip digging into the ground as she considered her answer. "How can I explain this…" she mused, her gaze drifting to the sky before settling back on Ludwig. "You see, mages believe that everything is created with mana—from rocks to rivers, grass to creatures. Everything contains and is sustained by mana. But aura is different. It's considered a part of life itself, and only those who have life can use it."
"Ah, then it's a sha," Ludwig said, his tone resigned.
Joana shook her head. "I know what you're thinking, but no. There's an exception."
Ludwig's eyes narrowed in curiosity. "What do you an?"
"Even undead can use aura," Joana said, her voice firm. "Because they, too, can have a 'heart.'"
Ludwig looked down at his chest, his expression unreadable. Though his sli-covered body gave the appearance of flesh and clothing, beneath it all, he was hollow—a skeleton masquerading as a human.
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Joana tapped Ludwig's chest with one finger. "A heart doesn't need to be physical. It's an idea, a thought, a belief," she said. "I've personally fought a Death Knight before. Believe
when I tell you, his sword aura was so beautiful, so powerful, that even to this day, I have yet to et anyone with sothing as pure as that. Aura is neither good nor evil. It simply is. And everyone can use it, if they have the heart for it."
Ludwig's curiosity deepened. "Did you win?" he asked.
"Win? In what?" Joana replied, her tone light.
"When you fought the Death Knight, did you win?" Ludwig clarified.
Joana smiled faintly. "That's quite the strange statent. I'm alive right now, am I not?"
Ludwig's mind raced. So she won against a Death Knight. I guess I'll need to be sothing more than just a Death Knight if I want to defeat soone as strong as her…
"But," Joana continued, her tone growing somber, "I didn't lose, but I didn't win either."
Ludwig frowned. "What is that supposed to an?"
Joana sighed, her gaze distant. "You see, a Death Knight isn't a simple undead, nor is it a simple knight. It's far above that. They are driven by their endless courage and will—whether for vengeance or service to their lord, be it a summoner, necromancer, lich, or sothing else. We don't know much about them. They rarely ever speak about themselves, if you understand what I'm trying to say."
"I guess so," Ludwig said, though his confusion was evident. "But that doesn't answer my question."
"Right," Joana said, her voice softening. "What happened was, while I was fighting the Death Knight to a standstill, the person controlling it—a young child, rely ten years old—was killed by a companion of mine. And that was the daughter of The Death Knight. She was her heart. Her reason for turning back from Death to Undeath. Once her heart was destroyed, the Death Knight had no reason to exist. It simply vanished into ash."
Ludwig's expression shifted, a flicker of understanding crossing his features. "So the Death Knight's will was tied to the child?"
Joana nodded. "Exactly. For a mother, even after death, she remained to protect her child. There was no greater driving force than that. I still rember the battle," she said, her voice tinged with a strange mix of admiration and sorrow. "But sadly, I have yet to see sothing as beautiful as that."
Ludwig remained silent, absorbing her words. The concept of aura, of a heart that transcended life and death, was both fascinating and daunting. As he stood there, the weight of Joana's story settled over him, leaving him with more questions than answers. But one thing was clear: if he wanted to grow stronger, he would need to find his own heart—whatever that ant for an undead like him.
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