NOVEL WEB Chapter 4: I TOLD YOU NOT TO CRY
In the early winter morning, the sun's rays were being reflected on the frost settled on the grass and leaves, creating a serene and beautiful scene.
But while the world outside looked calm enough to soothe the mind, the atmosphere inside the Smith family was different.
Because of the constant tension, the air always felt just a little heavy.
Logan was nine now.
Four years had passed since his mana core was sealed.
Four years of silence and pretending.
But while others slept and grew soft on luxury and ignorance, Logan trained. He continued his cultivation with Void Soul Sutra technique in the dead of night and rigorous physical training at dawn. He wouldn't stop until he had no more strength.
And not once—not once—did he touch mana.
Darius, now fourteen, was the pride of the Smith household. With the Enlightenment Ceremony behind him, he had formed a brilliant mana core. The affinity crystal orb radiated red, white, and purple colors when he touched it after baptism. That meant he awakened fire, air, and gravity elementals—just like Rudeous.
The affinity crystal orb shows different colors for different elemental affinities: red is for fire, blue for lightning, green for healing, white for air, sky-blue for water, grey for earth, and purple for gravity. Most people had one. The talented had two. A rare few had three—but more than that? It's so rare that even in two or three generations, only one person might be born with more than three. Practically a myth.
So Darius was already considered a genius for awakening with three elemental affinities.
"Just like Father," the court mage had said proudly. "A destined heir. A true prodigy of this era."
Servants started bowing deeper whenever Darius would walk past them. Nobles visited more frequently. Even Rudeous felt proud.
But none of that satisfied Darius.
Because Logan still existed.
Logan, who walked silently. Who never flinched when glared at. Who trained without teachers, without magic—and yet whose presence cast a long shadow across Darius's pride.
And that pride couldn't tolerate it.
One fine morning, as frost still clung to the training grounds, Darius stood waiting, a wooden practice sword resting on his shoulder. His friends were also there—all from noble backgrounds who were used to gloating about their strength and look down on others.
Logan had just finished lifting stone slabs twice his size. Sweet drops were dripping from his forehead in the cold air.
"You've been lifting rocks again," Darius sneered. "Trying to become a beast instead of a mage?"
Logan didn't answer. He reached for a towel calmly.
"I asked you a question, you dwarf," Darius said louder. "How dare you ignore me? Or are you afraid to speak in front of your older brother—who you can never catch up to now?"
The other boys chuckled. "Ignorance knows no bounds," they thought.
Logan met his gaze. "If you're trying to provoke me, it's working. But it's unwise."
"Unwise?" Darius scoffed. "You can't cast magic. Your mana core is sealed. You're nothing compared to me. Just a parasite hiding under our roof. And you still dare to say something like that?"
"Maybe you do need some lessons. You need to know your place," said Darius.
He tossed the practice sword at Logan's feet.
"Prove me wrong. Fight me."
Logan didn't move.
"You scared?" Darius mocked. "I am not even using a real sword. You shouldn't be that afraid, right?"
His friends burst into laughter.
"If I take the sword, then you wouldn't even have the right to duel me," Logan said in a calm, but confident tone.
"You! okay, fine… If I don't make you taste dirt today, I am not even a man," said Darius.
"Fine," Logan said feeling a bit amused hearing Darius's claim. "Just don't cry when it's over."
They formed a circle. Even the guards stopped to watch. Some smirked—this was going to be over quickly. After all, one boy had tri-elemental affinities and the full backing of a noble household. The other? Just a strange, silent child with a sealed mana core and no future.
"Begin!" shouted one of Darius's friend.
Darius moved first, fast—his wind magic flaring to boost his speed. He swung downward, a strike aimed at Logan's neck.
Everyone thought Logan was done for. A single strike should have been enough for a newbie like him.
But the scene in front of them shocked everyone.
Logan sidestepped and dodged the strike smoothly, letting the sword whistle past.
"Though my body has grown stronger over time, I will still feel pain if those attacks infused with mana land a hit on me," Logan thought to himself.
Darius snarled and attacked again, this time with a burst of fire dancing along the blade. He used gravity as well to pin Logan down so the attack wouldn't miss its target.
But still, reality proved all his efforts to be mere child's play in front of Logan. He ducked. The fire blade brushed past his shoulder but didn't touch him.
Logan stepped in. Clenching his fist, he slammed a punch squarely at Darius's chest. A crack sounded.
Darius staggered back.
Someone gasped. "Was that—did he break something?"
"Impossible," muttered another. "Darius has fire reinforcement. His body's enhanced."
Darius's eyes widened. "You little freak!"
He unleashed a wind burst in his legs for a speed boost. The ground cracked as he sprinted toward Logan with enhanced speed, slashing his sword obliquely, fire magic enhancing its offensive capability.
Logan waited patiently letting his opponent close in.
And then….
Suddenly…
he moved.
One fluid twist to dodge the slash.
What followed next was a devastating blow across Darius's wrist.
Clang! The sword dropped.
Another strike to the leg—Darius's knee buckled.
Then Logan's palm landed squarely on Darius's chest sending him flying like a rag doll.
Darius crashed into the snow bouncing once.
All of Darius's friends fell silent.
Darius groaned, trying to rise, but his arms trembled. He coughed—and blood painted the snow beneath him.
His smirk faded—not from pain, but something else. Recognition.
No one moved. No one knew what to say. They felt like they were hallucinating. Was it for real? Or were they just witnessing some illusion? They questioned themselves.
How had a boy with no magic—no visible power—defeated the future heir?
The sudden uproar stirred the silence, and the sound of combat brought dumbfounded spectators from every direction.
The court mage rushed in, followed by two healers.
Rudeous also appeared a moment later.
"What happened?" he asked in confusion.
No one answered.
Logan was standing straight, the sword in the ground by his side. His breathing was calm despite the duel he just had.
"He challenged me," he said plainly. "I accepted."
Darius, humiliated, tried to shout something, but Rudeous raised a hand to silence him.
"Enough."
He looked at Logan. For a moment—just a moment—there was a glint of excitement in his eyes.
Then he turned to the others.
"This matter will not be discussed outside this estate."
"But, Lord Rudeous," the court mage protested, "this boy… he has no mana, and yet—"
"I said enough," Rudeous snapped.
Mirena arrived then, her fur-lined cloak sweeping across the snow.
She took one look at Darius's bruised body and screamed, "He tried to cripple my son! Arrest him!"
"No one's being arrested," Rudeous growled. "They dueled. Darius lost."
"He has no magic!" she shrieked. "Then how?! He sure used some underhanded tri…."
"He used strength. Skill. Discipline," Rudeous said tightly. "Things you clearly haven't taught your son."
Mirena scoffed but didn't find any words to refute him.
Rudeous walked away, leaving the rest in a dilemma.
The gathering also dispersed slowly.
Mirena left with Darius, Abraham helping, in an angry mood.
Later that night, in his chamber, Logan sat by the frosted window once more.
The moonlight bathed his face.
He closed his eyes.
Circulated his Qi.
And whispered…..
"I told you not to cry."