Noah's POV
I spent the rest of my time training under the Headmaster in the Sanctuary of Origin—a place where time slowed to a crawl and reality thinned to its core. I didn't even get to say goodbye to anyone. Though, to be fair, he did inform them before he kidnap—I mean, took me from the mansion.
Still… I missed them.
Every night I lay down, staring into the empty void above, the weight of silence pressing into me. I had grown used to the warmth of others—Scarlett's comforting breath beside me, Layla's ever-looming clinginess, and Lyra's cold but strangely soothing presence, her hand often resting near mine in the dark. Now, my nights felt hollow. I couldn't sleep properly.
I'm sure they must be feeling the same way too. And without this intense training, their growth will slow. We could have all reached mid A-rank together… but now, naturally reaching that level without divine intervention? Impossible.
Maybe my parents will notice when I return—how far ahead I've leapt, and the shadows of those I left behind.
Still, in the two months under the Headmaster's brutal and genius tutelage, I learned something few ever glimpse.
Time spells.
Real ones. Not mimicry.
My Eclipse Blade Art now has six forms, though I still can't use the last two without serious consequences. Maybe once I reach S-rank, I'll be able to wield them properly… without bleeding out my soul.
But today—today was different.
Today was the final lesson.
The one he promised to give me himself.
I walked across the ancient stone platform, high above clouds that swirled like restless oceans. The air here carried a weight—thick, timeless, filled with silence that echoed louder than screams.
There, standing at the edge, was the Headmaster. His back was to me, hands behind him, his long silver hair flowing with the wind as though it remembered the passage of centuries.
As if sensing me, he spoke—his voice like thunder held in a whisper.
"You came at last."
"Yes," I replied quietly.
"Ready for the final lesson?" he asked, still facing the shattered sky.
"I'm ready," I said, more to myself than him.
He turned, eyes glowing faintly.
"Watch carefully. I will only show it once."
The sky above us was fractured—half-day, half-night. A horizon frozen between moments. This was no battlefield. No classroom. It was something more sacred. A place that existed outside of existence.
He raised his hand, and from it, a blade emerged—slender, timeless, humming with a resonance beyond mana.
"Time is not a river," he said, taking slow steps forward, "it is a tapestry. And every second… is a thread."
Then he slashed.
No flash. No sound.
Only silence—and distortion.
The air cracked open. Golden strands poured from the void, shimmering like silk woven by gods. They curled, twisted, then faded, as if they had never been.
My heart stopped. My Divine Eyes surged, but even with their power, I barely caught the technique.
"That…" I breathed, stunned. "That wasn't a spell."
"No," the Headmaster said, turning toward me. His gaze was fierce—unyielding. "This is beyond magic. Beyond the system. This is truth."
"Time Fibre Splitting," he continued, "is the act of seeing the individual strands of reality—and choosing which one to sever… or protect."
Then, he pointed the blade at me.
"You must learn not just to move through time, Noah. You must learn to rewrite it."
The world trembled beneath us.
I blinked. "How… how can you split time and not destroy everything?"
"If your heart wavers, you will destroy everything. That's why the blade must carry your will, not your fear." His voice lowered, solemn. "Now… feel it. I won't guide you anymore."
I stepped forward, drawing my sword.
Silence.
Then—vibrations.
Tiny pulses in the air. Threads shimmered, faint and distant. Each one a different version of me—standing, falling, laughing, dying.
I reached for one.
My sword trembled. The moment I brushed the thread, my mind fractured—dozens of memories, choices, possibilities slammed into me. Pain. Love. Failure. Triumph.
I stumbled back, barely breathing.
The Headmaster caught me.
"Too soon," he whispered. "You see them now. But to split them—you must first accept the weight of infinite regret."
I collapsed to one knee, gasping.
"But… if I can split time…" I whispered, staring at the threads. "I can rewrite fate itself."
The Headmaster's expression softened.
"That is the burden of gods, Noah. Be sure you want it."
Above us, the world remained still.
Below, life went on—unaware that in the clouds, a boy and a legend stood at the edge of eternity.
To be continued…