Long ago, shortly after Lyr had become aware, his family brought out the Thunder Spirit Sword, passed down through generations of House Geno, to see if Lyr could gain its recognition.
The Thunder Spirit Sword had existed for so long that it could be traced back to the very first head of the Geno family.
Legend had it that the Geno family encountered a Thunder Fairy and received its blessing, and the physical manifestation of that blessing was this sword.
Almost all families in the kingdom knew that House Geno possessed this item, yet it had never become the family’s foundation or reliance.
Only those recognized by the Thunder Spirit Sword could use it. Throughout the generations of House Geno, only a handful of people had succeeded.
This made the Thunder Spirit Sword more of a symbol for House Geno.
The previous user of the Thunder Spirit Sword could be traced back to Lyr’s great-grandfather, and the next one was Lyr himself.
Lyr had always carried this sword with him, never leaving it behind.
But recently, after returning home, he had left it at home and hadn’t used it much.
However, he could not be mistaken about the sword’s aura.
This was the aura of the Thunder Fairy, identical to the aura emanating from the figure he had seen when he first touched the sword as a child.
Returning to the present, specks of light filled the entire room, spreading out like a sea of stars.
The eerie scene before Yilu was like an illusion covering the sky, being consumed by these specks of light and dissipating.
“What is this? It’s beautiful.”
Like someone rescued from drowning, no matter what she saw, the relief of survival made her exclaim.
Lyr paused, thought for a moment, then said behind him, “Tif.”
“I understand.”
Without delay, Tif turned and walked toward Lyr’s room while everyone was still captivated by the specks of light.
She understood what Lyr meant.
Soon after, Tif emerged from the room carrying the longsword.
Compared to usual, the longsword now glistened, with all the specks of light emanating from it.
She stepped forward and handed the longsword to Lyr, then stepped back again.
The moment Lyr gripped the Thunder Spirit Sword, the entire blade let out a clear, audible hum.
A ripple spread out, enveloping the entire room.
Then, Lyr, being closest to Yilu, clearly saw a wisp of black energy emanate from her body.
The scenery before her shifted. Yilu was startled, as if reborn, and everything returned to normal.
She turned around and saw Tif and everyone standing there.
Turning her gaze back to Lyr, her expression calmed, devoid of any fear.
“What’s the deal with that sword?” Teanya couldn’t hide her curiosity.
“Thunder Spirit Sword,” Tif explained calmly.
Not only Lyr, she too had once touched this sword.
But the answer was the same as now: the Thunder Spirit Sword had only chosen Lyr.
At that time, she had been angry about it for a long time, and Lyr had to coax her before she stopped being upset.
That’s the competitiveness of a child.
Now, she no longer cared about gaining its recognition, only curious about what the sword truly was.
The scattered specks of light, under that ripple, as if driven by some force, slowly gathered together.
In an instant, a huge phantom figure appeared.
The specks of light only outlined its silhouette, making it impossible to tell whether it was human or some other creature.
It was tall and ethereal, looking down from above like a deity.
Yet its hollow eyes revealed a sharp, penetrating gaze fixed on Lyr and Yilu.
Lyr stared wide-eyed at this phantom, unable to believe it.
“Thunder Fairy, is that you?” His tone conveyed respect.
He had seen this figure back when he received the blessing.
At that time, only he, holding the sword, had seen the phantom. When he asked others, they shook their heads.
He never thought that after so long, he would see this blessed ancestor again.
The figure did not respond to Lyr. Instead, it looked at Yilu, who stood beside him.
***
After a moment of deliberation, an ancient voice came through, as if transmitted across countless ages.
“A broken Witch Descendant, with only a Curse and no power. How pitiful.”
“Then do you know how to deal with this so-called Witch’s Curse?” Lyr asked urgently.
He finally understood—he didn’t possess the power to suppress the Curse. That power didn’t belong to him, but to the Thunder Fairy before him.
Since it could suppress the Curse, it might also know the measures to counter it.
Not for himself, but to help Yilu.
Beside him, Yilu looked at the figure with confusion. Even though the phantom exuded an indescribable solemnity,
deep inside, she hated being looked down upon in such a posture, and couldn’t accept that description. She mustered her courage and staggered to her feet.
Before the figure could answer Lyr, Yilu said with a resolute tone, “Since you say I’m pitiful, then tell me, where is the power? I’ll prove to you myself whether I’m pitiful or not!”
Lyr looked at Yilu in shock, wondering if she hadn’t regained her senses from the earlier impact.
Wanting the Witch’s Power—that was too crazy.
He even suspected that if Yilu truly became a Witch, she might become an uncontrollable bomb.
“…”
The figure did not respond to either of them. It narrowed its eyes, revealing a stern expression.
Its lofty head tilted slightly downward, as if ready to judge Yilu, the challenger.
Regardless of whether it perceived it or not, to outsiders, Yilu seemed ungrateful for the help, instead challenging and rebuking the figure.
Not to mention if it was a legendary being; even an ordinary person might feel displeased.
Seeing this, Lyr quickly stepped forward, shielding Yilu behind him.
He genuinely feared that the figure might become angry.
But Yilu behind him showed no sign of backing down, staring straight back at the figure’s gaze.
The atmosphere froze instantly. The others around dared not make a sound.
The figure stared at Yilu for a while, its illusory face showing no change in expression.
In the end, it did nothing. It raised itself again, this time looking out the window with an implied meaning.
Sensing something, Lyr followed its gaze.
That direction seemed to be toward the Academy.
Before the others could understand, the gathered specks of light shattered, dissipating like fireworks throughout the room.
Everything felt like a dream. As Lyr regained his composure, he instinctively looked at the longsword in his hand. A flash of luster passed and then vanished.
‘To think I could see the Thunder Fairy again.’
When he first grasped the sword, his family had said that the sword would bring him good luck.
Now thinking back, the reason he could slay a Witch back then was not truly due to his own power, but with the help of the Thunder Fairy.