At dusk, my energy had mostly recovered, but since endurance has never been my strong suit, I fell behind during our daily cross-country run, ending up as the last one in the group.


    The setting sun cast a golden glow on the snow, its dazzling reflection on the mountain walls made me squint my eyes.


    I''ve never been fond of winter. It might sound odd for a grey wolf with three layers of fur to say this, but I really hate the cold. Not feeling cold and feeling comfortable are two different things.


    I lowered my body, quickly running across the rocky slope, adjusting the angle of my tail to maintain balance, and stepping forward before my foothold could crumble.


    The terrain near Mount Ulamun is rugged and fragmented, but in summer, this mountainous region will show another side. The snowy, barren cliffs have a very aloof beauty, but I can also appreciate the lush, vibrant scenery.


    A few laughs and vulgar jeers caught my attention, directing my gaze to the female Snow pack on the opposite mountain path. They were making clear derisive gestures towards us, and the male wolves at the front of our group took it as some form of encouragement, responding with even louder, crude flattery.


    I rolled my eyes inwardly, reminding myself not to stoop to such childish behavior.


    Back at the training ground, I found everyone already in position. Today, Master Polota was in charge of the guidance. His agile movements and swordsmanship were completely different from the powerful, oppressive style of Qana.


    I searched for Piqsirpoq''s presence, considering keeping my distance from him, but quickly noticed he wasn''t in the training ground. As I pondered the possible reasons, I sensed Qana''s presence approaching from behind, making me turn to face him immediately.


    "The sword masters have unanimously agreed that your training should advance further," the burly sword master said in a calm tone, without any comment on my awareness of his approach. "Follow me."


    Wasting no time, the master ascended one of the several steps carved into the mountain wall. My navigation skills aren''t great, so to avoid getting lost, I hurriedly followed Qana''s large strides.


    "Master, I don''t want to sound ungrateful..." I began, but Qana turned to raise an eyebrow at me, prompting me to clear my throat and get to the point. "I think the masters know that I won''t stay in the wolf pack in the future..." Qana maintained his raised eyebrow expression, preventing me from continuing, making me lower my gaze to my boots.


    "Precisely because of that," Qana said as he turned back, still in his calm tone. "We don''t have much time." He placed a hand on his sword hilt, rubbing the rounded pommel with his thumb. "Don''t you find it strange why I''m training you instead of Polota, who has a style more similar to yours?"


    At first, I didn''t realize Qana meant he would personally guide me, but I didn''t understand why the arrangement was made. The master''s feigned indifferent tone made me think further inquiry might not be wise, so I maintained a grateful silence, submissively accepting the master''s decision.


    "Is Piqsirpoq also receiving private instruction from a master?" I asked in a respectful tone, softly.


    "You really have no interest in what''s happening in the Senate, do you?" Qana snorted lightly and asked. I didn''t know how to respond, as the description was quite accurate. "Young wolves of sufficient potential will undergo initial group training, eventually selecting a five-member team plus reserves to represent the faction in the Selection." He paused at a fork in the path, then continued down one. "The Selection is the best chance to showcase oneself and greatly affects the possibility of becoming a prince-elector candidate--and Piqsirpoq is a hot favorite for this year''s Snow."


    Before I could respond, Qana led me to a platform carved out from the mountain. The entrance was well-hidden, impossible to find unless one was familiar with the terrain.


    "Qana Snow," the master said to a seemingly indistinguishable rock wall at the end of the platform, and the black shale silently parted to both sides.


    Qana didn''t waste time explaining anything to me, simply walking inside. I had to follow quickly, unsure of when the wall would close again.


    "Welcome, Sword Master." As we stepped through the opening, a neutral electronic voice sounded, and when the entrance silently closed behind us, soft light filled the interior, illuminating our surroundings.


    Alright, that was pretty cool.


    While Qana was operating a terminal on the black wall, I surveyed the room--it didn''t take long because there was nothing in the small space. The floor, ceiling, and walls were made of the same smooth black material, and I couldn''t determine the source of the light.


    "Choose a weapon that suits you," Qana said, walking to my side and pointing to a wall that slid open to reveal various swords. "I''ll have one custom-made for you later."


    It took me a moment to understand Qana''s intention.


    Suppressing my surprise and excitement, setting aside my countless questions, I couldn''t care less about whether I deserved such a gift. I could only think of the sword that would belong to me--my sword.


    Is this what it means to be overwhelmed with joy?


    As I picked up and tested different swords, feeling their balance, I noticed something peculiar--the vibration. Just like the military saber in the armory, each sword here resonated subtly under my touch.


    I momentarily forgot about the idea of having my own sword and looked at Qana with a questioning expression, tilting my head and folding one ear for answers, but he remained unmoved.


    Unable to read anything from his poker face, I changed tactics and expanded my consciousness, trying to interpret his thoughts from the waves he emitted.


    "Stop." As soon as my consciousness touched Qana, he spoke.


    The authoritative command in his voice made me immediately withdraw my consciousness, lowering my gaze and tail. I didn''t know if he had detected what I was doing or how he knew.


    "Although the number of psychics is very small, their existence and capabilities are not unfamiliar within the Canine Empire or even other parts of the solar system. But except for significant figures, the general public either hasn''t heard of psychic-related information or treats it as unreliable folklore. This is true even for wolves, who have relatively tight-knit communities." With Qana''s explanation, I began to understand something--there are forces deliberately concealing the existence of people like me, and there are others like me out there.


    Others who can do those seemingly impossible things--my kind. I looked up at Qana.


    "You are still very weak now, and the waves you emit are not easily noticeable, unless you send out probing waves that touch other psychics." Qana sighed and slightly slumped his shoulders. "I initially thought I could wait until you reached the age of eligibility for the Selection before worrying about this, but clearly, I misjudged many things."This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    He drew his sword, the broad sword with a slanted guard matching its owner, devoid of any decoration or unnecessary structure, yet a mere glance at the unadorned blade revealed its brilliance.


    Although he always used a blunt practice sword when sparring with me, Qana occasionally demonstrated moves with his own sword, so this wasn''t my first time seeing it up close. However, it was the first time I noticed the waves radiating from it.


    "You need to quickly learn the technique of shielding your own waves. Before you can quietly use your abilities, do not expand your consciousness outside this room." Qana circled the room with his sword, and I seemed to see a faint white glow. Was it an optical illusion or just an afterimage? "Simply expanding your consciousness to sense waves is fine; it won''t leave detectable ripples in the conscious domain. But actively expanding your field or further manipulation is a completely different matter. I will teach you how to differentiate between these two later, but for now, we must prioritize."


    After Qana finished speaking, I felt a certain...stagnation, as if encased in amber. I slightly moved my limbs and tail, like trying to swim with all my fur soaked.


    "All minds, outside their ''circle of existence''--the body--have ''circles of consciousness'' of varying range, structure, and density, depending on the strength of their will and other factors. Most circles of consciousness are too weak to cause any physical waves or effects. Those strong enough are the psychics." Qana tapped his chest twice with his thumb and then pointed at me. "They can do all sorts of miraculous things within the domain controlled by their consciousness."


    I felt that stagnation grow stronger, making it hard to even breathe, as if submerged in deep water, with an invisible force pressing on my chest.


    "But in most cases, different individuals'' circles of consciousness repel each other, so when strong circles of consciousness come into contact, it will be like this." Qana pointed to my hand. "Reining in your constant circle of consciousness and hiding it within your circle of existence is the basic way to avoid detection. Once you can skillfully retract and release it, we will discuss the advanced techniques."


    I tried to follow Qana''s instructions, retracting my consciousness. Like the reverse of expanding my consciousness, I... retracted it inward. I realized this might be easy for me because--hiding, not attracting attention--these were things I had practiced for over a decade.


    When my consciousness was fully retracted, that heavy stagnation disappeared. I raised my hands, flexing my fingers to confirm my movements were back to normal.


    "Very good, just as I expected, this part should be quite easy for you," the master said with a slight nod of approval, a common sign of praise from him. "If your abilities are discovered, it will pose a significant danger to you, so you must master the art of concealing your fluctuations." Qana''s gaze met mine, his tone becoming more intense. "I trust I don''t need to remind you never to reveal the content of our training sessions here, aside from the swordsmanship."


    Once the constraints of action were lifted, I took down the half-sword I had been eyeing earlier, holding it in my hand, feeling the perfect balance and the resonant hum.


    "I was a bit worried you might choose a rapier," Qana said with a shrug, walking back to the terminal and pressing a few buttons to retract the blade rack, which was once again covered by the black wall. "But..." he tilted his head slightly and glanced at me from the corner of his eye. "You didn''t choose the half-sword to make a statement, did you?"


    "I just think it suits me," I said, turning the sword in my hand and listening to the sound of the blade slicing through the air. "What would a half-sword signify?"


    "Although the name is a bit odd, simply put, a half-sword is also known as a hybrid sword," Qana explained, removing his dark brown cloak and hanging it on a black cylindrical object that had appeared at some point. "It refers to swords that cannot easily be classified as either single-handed or two-handed."


    The master approached me, his cloakless figure revealing his rugged muscles beneath his white shirt, and his nearly two-meter height gave me a powerful sense of intimidation that I hadn''t noticed outdoors.


    "Is it because I''m a mutt?" I flinched slightly at the term. "My status has turned my abilities into..." I mulled over the irony. "...a danger?" I realized how most Snow, even the entire Senate, would view me--a powerful anomaly--as an unstable, uncontrollable threat.


    "That is only one small part of it. Psychics are too precious to be dismissed, even the most conservative and outdated individuals cannot deny this. There are many dangers in this world that you are not yet aware of." Qana''s deep blue eyes flashed with a cold glint, his expression darkening. "Not just that--there are many who will seek to suppress you simply because of your innate traits or status. Often, the things that come with your abilities can be deadly--or worse."


    As soon as the master finished speaking, he executed a smooth slash that seemed mismatched with the enormous sword he wielded. I quickly raised my sword to block the attack, ear keen for any further moves, and shifted my stance into the "Frost", preparing for the next offensive.


    "Good, keep it up," he said as I dodged his chop and immediately closed in to strike at his abdomen. The master withdrew his sword and changed to a reverse grip, lifting the sword to his ear in the "Icicle" stance, creating an arc that lifted my blade and caught it with the guard, pulling it away.


    "In a crisis, an untrained psychics will instinctively extend their awareness to protect themselves, much like a startled insect. You must transcend this level; psychic are not just survival instincts."


    Unable to retract my sword, Qana used his left hand to forcefully push the sword''s end, relying on his strength and height advantage to drive the attack from above.


    I tried to block the attack with the guard, but Qana''s immense strength forced me to retreat a few steps to maintain my balance. He relentlessly pressured me, leaving no room for respite.


    Straining all my muscles to resist, I managed to halt Qana''s sword for a moment. I immediately withdrew my resistance to disrupt my balance, sidestepping and causing the master to stumble slightly forward. Seizing the opportunity, I raised my leg and aimed a kick at Qana''s nose.


    I hoped to at least disrupt his rhythm, but Qana, with a casual smile of ease, caught my left foot with his massive left hand.


    I didn''t stop; using the leverage from his grip, I bent my left leg and spun my whole body off the ground, using all my strength to kick at Qana''s face with my right foot.


    As I exhaled sharply, I found myself lying on my back, my mind racing through what had just happened. Qana''s reaction was faster than I was used to; during our usual practice, he hadn''t used his full strength--he had immediately grabbed my foot and slammed me to the ground as soon as he detected my intent.


    But my sword was still in hand. I curled my body, aiming for Qana''s ankle with a slash. Qana, moving so quickly that I barely saw an blur, performed the "Icicle", knocking my sword from my grip. I still refused to give up, tensing my entire body from the ground and leaping up, but a rough, hard object met the tip of my nose, halting all my actions.


    "Don''t freeze up," Qana said, his breathing still steady and calm. "Immediately lean back to somewhat mitigate the impact. The pain from a direct strike to the nose is unbearable for any canine creature. In a death match with similar skill levels, a precise hit to the nose will determine the outcome."


    I pressed my ears flat against my head and looked up at the master.


    "In the domain of a psychic''s consciousness, there are many disadvantages when fighting against him." Qana withdrew his foot and extended his hand to help me up. "But you performed well, and most importantly, you didn''t instinctively expand your awareness out of fear."


    I picked up the fallen sword and stood back in front of Qana, lowering my gaze to listen quietly.


    "Or rather, did you not actually feel the real danger?" The master rarely used a joking tone, but it was not laced with much sarcasm. Still, I kept my eyes on the ground, not changing my posture.


    "I think I did..." I recalled the sensation from earlier. "I thought you might really break my nose."


    "Then you should have reacted, not frozen." Qana scolded, though my ears were already pressed flat and could not droop further. "Maintain the retracted consciousness state and stay vigilant." I followed the master''s command, lifting my gaze and focusing on him.


    Qana held the sword in his right hand, fully extended parallel to the ground. A strong resonance emanated from the sword, followed by a wave of vitality that pierced through me.


    "This is a sword technique specially designed for psychics by the Snow faction," he said, his voice resonating in sync with the sword''s hum, almost like a chant. "You will continue practicing from the basic stance until you can perfectly conceal your vibration before I teach you the ability-related aspects." Qana made no other moves, but I already felt the immense pressure from him bearing down on me. It was as if the air became dense and heavy, with waves of impact shaking the room.


    I tried to control the reaction of my hair, but my adrenaline surged, my heart raced, and I could even hear my arteries pounding next to my eardrum--this was the truest sense of facing fear. I ignored the tingling sensation crawling under my skin, knowing it was my instinct urging me to extend my protective field. But I also knew I could surpass this level.


    "Snow," Qana''s voice floated through the space, and my vision was filled with countless white afterimages.