Chapter 80: The Price Of Power

By the next morning, Raymond had decided that watching Jonathan’s sword get caught between two fingers was not enough.

It had been impressive, humiliating, and deeply satisfying in a way he would never admit in front of Jonathan, but it had not actually told him what he needed to know.

Cassian had reacted once, with one hand, against a single controlled strike.

That proved the Gold Knight was stronger, certainly, but Raymond needed to understand the scale of the difference if he was going to build Althoff’s military around these people instead of simply staring at their ranks and assuming higher numbers meant better results.

That lesson had already nearly gotten him killed once. So shortly after breakfast, Raymond ordered a small group to leave through the northern gate and travel a few kilometers away from the settlement, far enough that nobody would panic if the ground started breaking.

Boris came along, as did Jonathan, Garret, Tristan, Cassian, Bram, and Silas.

The System have already given thw exact ranks for the three Gold Knights: Cassian was a 7-Star Gold Knight, Bram a 5-Star Gold Knight, and Silas a 3-Star Gold Knight. Which made Silas the weakest of the three, a sentence Raymond found increasingly ridiculous every time he thought about it.

They eventually stopped in an open stretch of hard ground between the outer farms and a low rocky ridge where winter grass was beginning to show through the retreating snow.

There were no houses nearby, no workers, and no livestock close enough to be frightened.

Raymond looked between Jonathan and Silas, then raised one finger before either man stepped forward. "Before we start, I want to make something very clear. This is a test, not an excuse for either of you to prove something stupid. No killing techniques, no attacks aimed at the neck, heart, eyes, or anything else Marianne would make me explain afterward. If one of you is clearly beaten, it ends."

Jonathan gave a calm nod, though Raymond could see the seriousness in his expression. Silas was less readable, standing several paces away with one of his narrow blades resting loosely against his shoulder.

"Understood, Family Head," he said.

Boris crossed his arms beside Raymond and added, "You should probably tell that to Jonathan twice.

He has looked personally offended since yesterday."

Jonathan glanced over without turning his head. "I was not offended."

Tristan smiled. "You stared at Cassian’s hand for half an hour."

Jonathan replied, "I was thinking."

"About being offended?" Tristan asked.

Jonathan stopped answering him.

Raymond stepped back with the others until there was enough distance between them and the two fighters.

Jonathan drew his sword and settled into a familiar stance, weight balanced, shoulders relaxed, the same posture Raymond had seen him use dozens of times through winter.

Silver mana rose from his body gradually, coating his limbs and weapon in a faint pressure that Raymond could feel from where he stood. Jonathan was not merely some talented young Knight.

He was a 5-Star Silver who had survived the Beast Tide, fought the Blackstone Ursar, commanded other summoned Knights in battle, and spent years of System-given experience mastering his rank.

Against Bronze opponents, he might as well have been untouchable. Silas, meanwhile, drew one blade and did almost nothing else.

There was no dramatic release of mana, no visible stance beyond the slight lowering of his center of gravity, and that difference somehow made him look more dangerous rather than less.

Raymond frowned and focused his eyes.

"Is he suppressing himself?" he asked quietly.

Cassian answered from beside him. "Yes. If he released his full reinforcement at the beginning, the comparison would become less useful."

Boris slowly looked toward Cassian. "That is him suppressing himself?"

Cassian nodded once. Boris turned back toward Silas and muttered something Raymond did not quite catch, though it sounded religious despite Boris not being especially devout.

Jonathan moved first.

The ground beneath his foot cracked as he launched forward, crossing the distance with enough speed that Raymond’s eyes immediately struggled to follow. He caught the first impact only because the sound reached him, a sharp metallic snap as Silas turned Jonathan’s blade aside with a small movement of his wrist.

Jonathan pivoted immediately, cut low, reversed the angle, then drove another strike toward Silas’s shoulder.

Three attacks came almost together. Silas blocked the first, stepped away from the second, and allowed the third to pass so close to his chest that Raymond thought Jonathan had landed it until Silas was suddenly standing at Jonathan’s side.

His blade touched Jonathan’s ribs without cutting.

Jonathan twisted away, Silver mana surging harder around his legs, and the two separated.

Raymond exhaled only then, realizing he had been holding his breath. "I missed half of that."

Garret’s expression remained grim. "So did I."

The exchange resumed before Raymond could say more. Jonathan increased his pace, no longer testing. His sword movements became heavier and more precise, each step feeding directly into the next attack as he forced Silas backward across the field.

To Raymond’s Bronze-ranked vision, Jonathan became a blur interrupted by occasional flashes of steel and silver mana. Yet Silas was still faster.

Not dramatically faster in the sense of vanishing and appearing a hundred meters away, but fast enough that every time Jonathan committed to a strike, Silas had already read the movement and chosen his response.

He slipped outside the effective angle, redirected instead of blocking head-on, and repeatedly touched Jonathan with the flat of his blade at places that would have been fatal in a real fight.

Shoulder. Kidney. Thigh. Side of the neck. Each time Jonathan escaped before the blow became a strike, but each time everyone watching understood what had happened.

Raymond narrowed his eyes and tried to focus on the mana rather than the bodies.

That made the difference clearer. Jonathan possessed a large amount of mana compared with any Bronze Knight Raymond had ever seen, but Silas’s mana felt different even while restrained.

It was denser, more compressed, threaded through his muscles and weapon with far greater efficiency. Jonathan had to release more power to accelerate, defend, and change direction, while Silas seemed to achieve the same result with smaller movements and tighter reinforcement.

Cassian must have noticed Raymond studying them because he spoke without being asked. "Advancing into Gold Rank is not simply an increase in strength. The body’s ability to contain and circulate mana undergoes another refinement. Mana becomes denser, reinforcement becomes more efficient, perception improves, and the Knight can support techniques that would overwhelm a Silver body. Reaction speed, durability, control, recovery, and output all rise together. A stronger Silver can overpower a weaker Silver because his numbers are higher. Against a Gold Knight, the difference is more fundamental."