Accidental Ascendance



Kaid Montclair's childhood was far from a life of privilege. Born into a prestigious mage family, he was the younger brother of Celt, a promising student at the Magi Academy. While Celt was off pursuing his magical studies, Kaid faced the cold and distant attitudes of the family's servants. They saw him as a disappointment due to his small mana reservoir. Their eyes held contempt whenever he tried to participate in magical discussions, making him feel like an outsider in his own home.

In the sprawling Montclair estate, the servants whispered in hushed tones, casting disdainful glances at the young Kaid. To them, he was a blight on the honorable Montclair name, a boy who lacked the magical prowess that defined their prestigious lineage. They exchanged knowing looks, their words dripping with contempt.

"Did you hear? The young master couldn't even conjure a basic spell," one servant sneered, her voice laced with mockery.

"Such a shame. To think he's the brother of the promising Celt Montclair," another replied, shaking his head in faux sympathy.

Kaid, oblivious to their whispers, pushed through the double doors leading to the Montclair estate's vast training yard. Determination burned in his eyes as he hefted a wooden practice sword, ready to prove himself through a different means. Magic might not be his forte, but he would master the art of the sword and carve his own path to greatness.

As weeks turned into months, the servants watched with bemused expressions as Kaid's training routine became a daily ritual. Rain or snow, he would be out there, drenched and shivering, his muscles aching from the constant drills. Push-ups, sword forms, running laps—each movement was a testament to his unwavering resolve.

In the dim light of dawn, Kaid labored, sweat mingling with dirt on his skin. He winced through push-ups, his arms trembling as he struggled to lift his body. The sword felt like a heavy burden, but he swung it again and again, refusing to back down. As time passed, his strikes grew less clumsy, his swings more fluid, and his stamina increased.

Seasons shifted rapidly, As Kaid trained, a testament of his efforts. Kaid's silhouette against the backdrop of the estate, muscles straining with every movement. He ran around the lake, the wind biting into his skin, but he pushed through the exhaustion. Each sunrise brought him closer to his goal, even as the servants dismissed his efforts with derisive chuckles.

One day, the sun hung low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the training yard. Kaid's breath misted in the cold air as he swung his sword, his form growing more controlled. Suddenly, the training yard's atmosphere shifted, an imposing presence filling the space. Kaid's eyes widened as his grandfather, Cidmire Montclair, arrived, his presence commanding the attention of all who saw him.

Cidmire's gaze settled on Kaid, his eyes sharp and discerning. The servants exchanged glances, their disdain momentarily forgotten as the estate's patriarch observed the youngest Montclair's efforts. Kaid swallowed hard, his grip on the sword tightening as he braced himself for what was to come.

Without a word, Kaid's frustration boiled over, and he couldn't contain the challenge that erupted from his lips. "Grandfather, do you even see me? Or do you just see a reflection of my failures in your precious magic?"

Cidmire's eyebrow quirked up at Kaid's audacity, and an intrigued smile touched his lips. "A challenge, then?"

Kaid's eyes blazed with determination, and he nodded. "Yes, a challenge. I want to see if anything I'm doing is worth it. Can I even stand up to the Archmage? Or am I just wasting my time?"

A contemplative silence hung in the air as Cidmire considered Kaid's words. Then, with a flick of his wrist, a burst of mana surged through the air, and the duel began. Cidmire's control over magic was precise and calculated. Each burst of energy sent Kaid's sword clattering against the cobblestone, and he struggled to keep up.

Kaid's heart pounded, sweat streaming down his face as he parried and dodged, his every movement a desperate attempt to close the insurmountable gap between them. His strikes were feeble compared to Cidmire's powerful bursts of mana. He felt small, insignificant, and the weight of his lack of magical ability bore down on him.

Cidmire's attacks were relentless, each one a testament to his mastery of magic. Kaid's frustration grew, and his swings grew wilder as he tried to land a single attack on his grandfather. Yet, it was like trying to catch a breeze with his bare hands.

Finally, a final strike from Cidmire sent Kaid's sword flying from his hand. Kaid stumbled, falling to the ground, defeated. He panted, chest heaving, his body battered and bruised. Cidmire stood over him, his eyes a mix of sternness and understanding.

"You aim for a different path from mana—you seek to aim towards the sword, a dead art these days," Cidmire's voice was calm yet piercing. "However, if you take it, it will be filled with nothing but hardships. There are some spells you can't beat with the blade alone. You will always have to work harder than everyone else. It is a fool's route."

Kaid's expression darkened as he absorbed his grandfather's words. But before he could speak, Cidmire continued. "However, if that is the route you seek to take and if you endeavor to struggle and bite back harder than anyone else, you could be better than anyone. So, what is your answer, Kaid Montclair?"

Kaid's determination flared in his heart as he stood up. "I choose the sword!"

A small smile tugged at the corner of Cidmire's lips as he turned away, beckoning for Kaid to follow. "Then there is someone I want you to meet..."

And so Kaid, once deemed the weakest member of the Montclair family, set out with Cidmire Montclair to forge his own destiny. One where he would go on to be hailed as the Raven of Death, the Black Knight, the King's Sword. With every strike of his sword, every bead of sweat shed in training, he carved his path through a world dominated by magic.

His journey was one of relentless determination, where he tirelessly honed his swordsmanship, pushing his body beyond its limits and his spirit beyond what anyone thought possible. Through challenges and adversities, he learned the true meaning of resilience and the strength that comes from within.

The once-disparaging servants soon watched in awe as Kaid's prowess with the sword grew, their skepticism transformed into respect. His every move was a testament to his unwavering dedication, a reminder that one's strength was not solely defined by magical abilities.

Years passed, and Kaid's name resonated through the land, becoming a legend that even the mightiest mages would speak of with reverence. He stood as a living embodiment of perseverance, a beacon of inspiration for those who dared to tread a different path.

In time, his journey would intertwine with the fate of his nephew, Cedric, and together, they would reshape the course of their world. But those were tales yet to be told, stories that would ripple through history and leave an indelible mark on the annals of time.