CH 6: A Perfect Copy

Early morning, Valerica led Isla around the vast citadel, her tone bright and proud as she pointed out various landmarks. “And this...” she spread her arms grandly “is the training ground! Look at all those dummies lined up. This is where I, the Great Sword Saint, will personally train you! Hehe!”

She puffed her chest out smugly, expecting Isla to be impressed.

“Ohhh…” Isla said in her usual flat tone, clapping her hands lazily.

Valerica froze for a moment, her proud grin twitching. Then she giggled and thought, 'Damn, having a disciple isn’t bad. She’s adorable in her own weird way.' She blushed slightly and placed her hands on her hips. “Alright, next we’ll—HEY! Where are you going!?”

Isla was already sprinting toward one of the practice dummies, her stick in hand. Without hesitation, she began swinging at it, sharp, precise strikes that hit cleanly at weak points most adults would overlook.

Valerica blinked, stunned. The girl’s movements weren’t random or childish, they carried instinct, accuracy, and balance. “What the…” she muttered under her breath, watching as Isla continued her rhythmic strikes, eyes focused and aloof at the same time.

“Hey, Isla! Try this instead!” Valerica said, quickly grabbing a wooden sword from a rack nearby. She tossed it lightly toward the girl and Isla caught it without even looking back. Valerica’s jaw dropped. “I–Is that a fluke!?” she said in shock, staring in disbelief. "I did hear she hunted boars..." she continued in a low voice.

But Isla didn’t respond. She simply switched to the wooden sword and resumed her assault on the straw dummy. Each swing was stronger, sharper, until thin cuts began to appear on the dummy’s surface.

“… Not enough.” Isla muttered softly.

Then, in one seamless motion, she shifted her stance, spun once, turning her body sideways. One hand settled on the hilt of the wooden sword, poised as if drawing from an invisible sheath. Her gaze sharpened—and in that instant, her presence transformed.

Valerica’s breath caught as her instincts screamed a warning. “That stance…” she whispered. “That’s—!”

Her eyes widened in shock. She recognized it immediately.

It was hers.

The exact stance she had taken when she demonstrated Sky Splitter for Isla back in the village.

“Wait—what?!” Valerica muttered, her voice trembling. “How did she learn that stance!? I’m certain she wasn’t even looking when I assumed it. Don’t tell me…”

Realization struck like lightning.

“She copied it… on instinct!?”

Valerica was completely baffled. Anyone could imitate a stance at a glance—but this was different. Her stance was not a simple drawing posture. It was a preparatory form, a foundation designed to awaken a skill itself.

And yet… Isla had reproduced it perfectly.

Before Valerica could think any further, her breath caught in her throat. Isla’s small body trembled, her aura flaring wildly, wind swirling around her as faint white mana began to glow from her skin. The wooden sword hummed faintly in her grip.

“Sky Splitter!” Isla shouted.

A violent surge of energy erupted the moment her blade sliced upward. The dummy split cleanly in two, then the air behind it tore apart, slicing through the wall, and even parting the clouds above the training ground.

Valerica’s jaw dropped. She choked on air, her body frozen in disbelief. “I–Isla! H–How did you—” Her words faltered when she noticed Isla sway unsteadily.

The girl’s wooden sword slipped from her hand, her body falling limp to the ground.

“Isla!!” Valerica screamed, rushing to catch her before she hit the floor. Isla’s skin was pale, her breathing shallow, her tiny hands bleeding from the strain, her mana completely drained.

“Mana depletion… and aura exhaustion!” Valerica’s voice quivered. She held Isla close, panic rising. “Oh gods! oh gods! Lady Cateleya’s gonna kill me!”

Without wasting another second, Valerica bolted toward the citadel’s infirmary, practically kicking doors open as she yelled, “Saintess Solace! Emergency!”

Inside, the serene Saintess of Healing turned in surprise as Valerica burst in, carrying the limp, unconscious child whose body still faintly shimmered with divine white light.

“Oh my~ White hair… Is this the prophesied child I heard about who arrived yesterday?” Solace asked with a warm, melodic giggle as she approached. Her long, golden hair shimmered softly under the light of her healing lamps. “She looks adorable.”

Valerica, still panting from running, handed Isla over gently. “Y-yeah… that’s her. She’s… uh… kind of overdid it.”

Solace smiled faintly as she laid Isla on one of the infirmary beds, her movements careful and motherly as she cleaned then bandage her hands.

She pressed her palms above Isla’s chest, a soft, radiant glow blooming from her hands. “Don’t worry, Valerica. The girl is just exhausted. A little too much mana exertion for someone her age.”

Then, with a teasing grin, she added, “Still, maybe don’t let her faint all over the place again, hmm? It wouldn’t look too good for her mentor, would it?”

Valerica’s brow twitched realizing that the other saints were already informed that Isla is now her disciple. “Y-yeah, yeah… rub it in, why don’t you.”

Solace chuckled. “What’s her name, by the way?”

“Her name’s Isla,” Valerica replied.

“Hmmm…” Solace hummed as her healing spell glowed brighter. Then her brows furrowed slightly. “How strange.”

“What’s wrong?” Valerica asked, straightening.

Solace’s calm expression shifted into curiosity. “Her wounds… they’re healing, but very slowly—even with my magic.” She frowned, placing a hand over Isla’s bandaged fingers. “My minor healing should’ve closed them instantly.”

“W-What!?” Valerica blurted. “You’re Saintess Solace, the best healer in Aethelgard! There’s no way that should happen!”

“It’s true that what I used was only a minor spell,” Solace said thoughtfully, “but even so, her recovery rate is… unusual. Her body seems to resist external healing magic. It’s not rejection entirely, it’s like her own mana wants to do the healing itself rather than relay on my magic.” She paused as faint white light flickered under Isla’s skin. “I think… even greater healing might not affect her the same way.”

Valerica slumped against the wall, groaning. “Ugh… I’m so dead. Lady Cateleya’s going to scold me for this.”

Solace chuckled softly, covering her lips with a gloved hand. “You’ll be fine. Besides,” she said with a knowing smirk, “I heard you and Isla will be joining Lady Cateleya for dinner tonight.”

“Don’t remind me…” Valerica muttered, glancing at Isla’s sleeping face. Despite her exhaustion, the girl looked peaceful.