Sturma, the capital of Count Bayezid.
There, in a vast mansion, a white-haired man and an elderly man with a long white beard were having a conversation.
"They say a group of pilgrims is passing through our city of Sturma."
"Shall we welcome them?"
Ragmus the Counselor shook his head in response to Fether's question.
"I don't think they'd want that. They say they're going to literally sneak by and trace the dragon's trail."
"Very classic."
Fether nodded, listening to Ragmus's words.
The voices of gods that want for nothing.
It had been a long time since he'd seen faithful pilgrims.
"I hope you don't mind if I take care of it... without them knowing."
"I knew you would say that."
You get what you deserve.
Ragmus, who knew Peter's disposition and character well, nodded and said he would handle it.
"And my second son, and... Vlad."
And here were the other worthies.
Fortunately, they were within themselves, so no one would complain if they took care of them.
"I heard they did a good job."
"Yes. There were words in the report that made even an old man's heart skip a beat."
"Hmm."
Fether nodded, listening to Ragmus's words.
The first discipline of the Sword Master.
Fether genuinely smiled at the nostalgic words he hadn't heard in so long.
"It must have been a rare sight to see in a time when knights were so scarce."
"It must have been nice to be there."
Though he didn't say it, Fether agreed with Ragmus.
Knights were precious, and they were also a strategic weapon that required a lot of resources and investment.
That's why most Houses had provided elite training for knights from the start, selecting those of proven noble blood or exceptional talent.
Stones are carefully controlled.
Young knights and young squires whose behavior never reaches extremes that require the discipline of a Sword Master.
Some of the older knights grumbled about the situation, but times change.
But that day in Deirmar, there was a ray of light that defied time.
For some, it was a welcome light.
"There must be people who like it."
"I'm reminded of Bayezid's Golden Generation."
"At this rate, the old ones will come with treats in hand for the newcomers."
Fether put down the papers he was holding and sank into his chair.
"Still, they belong to my son, and I'll need his permission."
"I'm sure Lord Joseph would be delighted for you to do so."
"...That's a problem."
Fether couldn't help but frown even as he smiled.
Heaving and thinking he would give up at any moment, but then he felt around in the mud and brought something shiny.
"I have a lot on my mind."
Thinking of his second son, who wouldn't hesitate to roll in the mud to win, Fether was lost in thought.
Both are very good sons.
Too good to be true.
In the end, I had to choose one.
***
"Why do you keep blinking your left eye, is there a stone in it?"
Back in Sturma, during my first training session with Jager.
There, Vlad had grand dreams and wanted to focus on confirming his achievements.
"I'm sure I told you not to try doing something you can't."
And that's exactly what his master had told him not to do.
The boy had just ignored the rule Jager had set.
"Stop!"
Vlad rolled heavily as he looked at the suddenly looming sky.
Jager's strike was as fierce as ever but lacked any consideration.
"Get up."
"Out."
The blow hurt so much that Vlad didn't easily come to his senses, but when he saw Jager's eyes on him, he straightened up hastily.
Jager had always looked at the boy with something fiery, whether it be anger, passion, or anticipation.
"After having a duel with a knight in Deirmar, do you think you're something now?"
Now there was a cold disappointment in his eyes.
"..."
If you don't expect it, you won't be disappointed in the first place.
So, for the boy, it was the first time in his life that an adult expressed the emotion of disappointment.
And it stabbed deep into the boy's heart.
The disdain, insults, mockery of his insignificance were so familiar that they didn't even hurt.
But now, Jager's disappointment pierced deep into the boy's heart.
It was the tip of a hot needle piercing the frozen heart of the boy.
Vlad was defenseless, feeling the coldness emanating from the warmth.
"You should leave."
"Yes, sir..."
Knowing Jager well enough to know that once a decision was made, it wasn't easy to reverse it, Vlad had no choice but to lower his head and leave.
His training for the day was over.
It was due to the boy's clumsy attempts to manifest aura.
The boy's impatience did not prevail.
[I told you to focus on the basics.]
"..."
While the voice spoke, Vlad sheathed his sword somberly and without emotion.
[I would have been angry too.]
Jager had been very sensitive with the boy since Vlad awakened aura.
He seemed so precarious.
Of course, the things the boy had built were bright and grand, but the level he was at was like sand on a beach.
Unusual things that could be swept away at any moment by a big wave.
Jager didn't want the boy to be like that.
"I just wanted to... manifest it again."
[It was just a manifestation of a possibility; it's better to move on.]
And the voice was also concerned about the boy's state.
Do all knights use aura?
It wasn't the case.
So, are knights who can't use aura inferior beings?
That wasn't the case either.
Being able to wield a sword with aura is just a manifestation of the potential to rise above other knights.
You could only truly say you used aura if you could make it your own and use it skillfully in combat.
[Don't forget that you've just learned with the sword; great things can only blossom from a solid foundation.]
"..."
But the voice was understanding.
A boy in the prime of life has a shining sword in hand, and, of course, he wants to wield it.
Anyone would.
[Think again about Jager's words; he wouldn't have been angry with you if you didn't deserve it.]
"Okay."
So, you can only hope he understands what you're saying.
That the boy who has just blossomed will be able to resist the many temptations that will come his way and keep his head held high towards the sky.
A bitter feeling rose in his stomach, but Vlad pressed his lips without flinching.
Anyway, today's training had been a failure.
And crap.
Forget it for now.
The boy who had lived in a block of frustration was a man trying not to be defeated by false emotions.
The world, everywhere, does not extend a kind hand to those who fall once.
On the contrary, it is this world that puts you on your knees.
The boy who had lived at the bottom was very aware of this harsh aspect of the world.
"I'm going to have lunch."
Vlad ruffled his blond hair and headed to the dining room.
The squire entered the dining hall with unsteady steps, carrying a sword and the shirt the countess had gifted him.
"....."
"....."
After nearly a month on the mission, Vlad's reaction was one of incomprehensible silence and a slight nod.
Some quick-witted squires had already heard about Vlad's work in Deirmar through their own families.
So everyone present knew with certainty who had become the most valuable and accomplished squire.
It no longer mattered whether the family was good or bad, whether the status was high or low.
The street fights of the children had ended.
With the appearance of a single person with a different world at his feet.
From now on, the true leader of this place was a blond boy, a newly rolled stone.
"Hey."
"Did you get beaten up while I was away?"
"No, no one hit me."
Portly greeted Vlad with a stack of sausages higher than the food on the table.
"I've missed this so much. These meats."
"Eat."
Vlad grabbed the sausages with his hands, not bothering with the fork.
The salty sauce washed away his depressive feelings, and Vlad looked incredibly satisfied.
"That's it."
When he was in Deirmar, he had eaten salads with lemon sauce and healthy bread.
Obviously, they had been specially prepared by Alicia for her distinguished guests, and Joseph had been very pleased to eat them, but Vlad hadn't liked them.
They weren't tasteless, but they were frankly bland.
Nothing tastes like meat for a growing child.
"After all, flavors are salty and sweet."
"That's right, that's the truth."
Vlad took a big bite of the sausage, listening to Portly's sincere agreement, and then looked around.
"....."
Everyone was staring at him.
"Does everyone know?"
"More or less..."
Portly scratched his head with a subtle smile.
He hoped that what he was about to do wouldn't seem like a superficial favor expecting something in return.
"..Yes."
Vlad sucked the sauce off his fingers, lost in thought.
The squires' attitude made him feel like he was sitting in a place where he shouldn't be.
Still, he had no intention of leaving.
"What are you going to do on this holiday anyway?"
"Holiday?"
Vlad had nowhere to go.
There were places he missed, but it would take a lot of determination to go back there.
After a moment of thoughtful silence, Portly continued.
"...Would you like to come to my house, then? My father would like to formally invite you."
"To your house?"
Some squires who were far from home went to a friend's house instead of traveling in a group.
The idea was to create connections.
"The truth is, I've never invited a friend before, so I've never been to..."
"You have no background."
Vlad nodded, thinking about Portly's situation.
He had been pressured to make contacts somehow, and all he had received were bitter news.
So the interest of the head of the Kannor family in the blond boy, now in the public eye, was greater.
Not only from the family head's perspective but also from the father's perspective, who was desperate to see the boy named Vlad.
"We certainly know how to treat guests in our house."
"Mmm."
Vlad began to seriously consider Portly's offer.
The mission to Deirmar had been tense.
Now he wanted to eat freshly roasted meat, not sausages.
"Did you say you were looking for a horse?"
"Eh?"
And Portly knew what Vlad wanted besides meat.
"Like I said, my family is involved in livestock farming. We may not be the best family in the north at it, but at least we can get horses better than some around here."
"Oh."
That's it.
It's hard to say no to this.
"Really?"
"Yes. I heard there are better horses than the one Mr. Jager has."
"I can ask and try to get you one."
Joseph can surely get him one, but it doesn't hurt to be prepared.
It's better to find the right one in person than to have it handed to you.
"Phew!"
Vlad smacked Portly on the back of the head with a flourish.
"Alright."
"Are you sure? I'll make sure to have the holidays."
Vlad just laughed, whether Portly was embarrassed or not.
It was a reserved greeting for those close in the alleys.
The boy was reminded of something he hadn't thought about in a long time.
Sturma, the capital of Count Bayezid.
There, in a vast mansion, a white-haired man and an elderly man with a long white beard were having a conversation.
"They say a group of pilgrims is passing through our city of Sturma."
"Shall we welcome them?"
Ragmus the Counselor shook his head in response to Fether's question.
"I don't think they'd want that. They say they're going to literally sneak by and trace the dragon's trail."
"Very classic."
Fether nodded, listening to Ragmus's words.
The voices of gods that want for nothing.
It had been a long time since he'd seen faithful pilgrims.
"I hope you don't mind if I take care of it... without them knowing."
"I knew you would say that."
You get what you deserve.
Ragmus, who knew Peter's disposition and character well, nodded and said he would handle it.
"And my second son, and... Vlad."
And here were the other worthies.
Fortunately, they were within themselves, so no one would complain if they took care of them.
"I heard they did a good job."
"Yes. There were words in the report that made even an old man's heart skip a beat."
"Hmm."
Fether nodded, listening to Ragmus's words.
The first discipline of the Sword Master.
Fether genuinely smiled at the nostalgic words he hadn't heard in so long.
"It must have been a rare sight to see in a time when knights were so scarce."
"It must have been nice to be there."
Though he didn't say it, Fether agreed with Ragmus.
Knights were precious, and they were also a strategic weapon that required a lot of resources and investment.
That's why most Houses had provided elite training for knights from the start, selecting those of proven noble blood or exceptional talent.
Stones are carefully controlled.
Young knights and young squires whose behavior never reaches extremes that require the discipline of a Sword Master.
Some of the older knights grumbled about the situation, but times change.
But that day in Deirmar, there was a ray of light that defied time.
For some, it was a welcome light.
"There must be people who like it."
"I'm reminded of Bayezid's Golden Generation."
"At this rate, the old ones will come with treats in hand for the newcomers."
Fether put down the papers he was holding and sank into his chair.
"Still, they belong to my son, and I'll need his permission."
"I'm sure Lord Joseph would be delighted for you to do so."
"...That's a problem."
Fether couldn't help but frown even as he smiled.
Heaving and thinking he would give up at any moment, but then he felt around in the mud and brought something shiny.
"I have a lot on my mind."
Thinking of his second son, who wouldn't hesitate to roll in the mud to win, Fether was lost in thought.
Both are very good sons.
Too good to be true.
In the end, I had to choose one.
***
"Why do you keep blinking your left eye, is there a stone in it?"
Back in Sturma, during my first training session with Jager.
There, Vlad had grand dreams and wanted to focus on confirming his achievements.
"I'm sure I told you not to try doing something you can't."
And that's exactly what his master had told him not to do.
The boy had just ignored the rule Jager had set.
"Stop!"
Vlad rolled heavily as he looked at the suddenly looming sky.
Jager's strike was as fierce as ever but lacked any consideration.
"Get up."
"Out."
The blow hurt so much that Vlad didn't easily come to his senses, but when he saw Jager's eyes on him, he straightened up hastily.
Jager had always looked at the boy with something fiery, whether it be anger, passion, or anticipation.
"After having a duel with a knight in Deirmar, do you think you're something now?"
Now there was a cold disappointment in his eyes.
"..."
If you don't expect it, you won't be disappointed in the first place.
So, for the boy, it was the first time in his life that an adult expressed the emotion of disappointment.
And it stabbed deep into the boy's heart.
The disdain, insults, mockery of his insignificance were so familiar that they didn't even hurt.
But now, Jager's disappointment pierced deep into the boy's heart.
It was the tip of a hot needle piercing the frozen heart of the boy.
Vlad was defenseless, feeling the coldness emanating from the warmth.
"You should leave."
"Yes, sir..."
Knowing Jager well enough to know that once a decision was made, it wasn't easy to reverse it, Vlad had no choice but to lower his head and leave.
His training for the day was over.
It was due to the boy's clumsy attempts to manifest aura.
The boy's impatience did not prevail.
[I told you to focus on the basics.]
"..."
While the voice spoke, Vlad sheathed his sword somberly and without emotion.
[I would have been angry too.]
Jager had been very sensitive with the boy since Vlad awakened aura.
He seemed so precarious.
Of course, the things the boy had built were bright and grand, but the level he was at was like sand on a beach.
Unusual things that could be swept away at any moment by a big wave.
Jager didn't want the boy to be like that.
"I just wanted to... manifest it again."
[It was just a manifestation of a possibility; it's better to move on.]
And the voice was also concerned about the boy's state.
Do all knights use aura?
It wasn't the case.
So, are knights who can't use aura inferior beings?
That wasn't the case either.
Being able to wield a sword with aura is just a manifestation of the potential to rise above other knights.
You could only truly say you used aura if you could make it your own and use it skillfully in combat.
[Don't forget that you've just learned with the sword; great things can only blossom from a solid foundation.]
"..."
But the voice was understanding.
A boy in the prime of life has a shining sword in hand, and, of course, he wants to wield it.
Anyone would.
[Think again about Jager's words; he wouldn't have been angry with you if you didn't deserve it.]
"Okay."
So, you can only hope he understands what you're saying.
That the boy who has just blossomed will be able to resist the many temptations that will come his way and keep his head held high towards the sky.
A bitter feeling rose in his stomach, but Vlad pressed his lips without flinching.
Anyway, today's training had been a failure.
And crap.
Forget it for now.
The boy who had lived in a block of frustration was a man trying not to be defeated by false emotions.
The world, everywhere, does not extend a kind hand to those who fall once.
On the contrary, it is this world that puts you on your knees.
The boy who had lived at the bottom was very aware of this harsh aspect of the world.
"I'm going to have lunch."
Vlad ruffled his blond hair and headed to the dining room.
The squire entered the dining hall with unsteady steps, carrying a sword and the shirt the countess had gifted him.
"....."
"....."
After nearly a month on the mission, Vlad's reaction was one of incomprehensible silence and a slight nod.
Some quick-witted squires had already heard about Vlad's work in Deirmar through their own families.
So everyone present knew with certainty who had become the most valuable and accomplished squire.
It no longer mattered whether the family was good or bad, whether the status was high or low.
The street fights of the children had ended.
With the appearance of a single person with a different world at his feet.
From now on, the true leader of this place was a blond boy, a newly rolled stone.
"Hey."
"Did you get beaten up while I was away?"
"No, no one hit me."
Portly greeted Vlad with a stack of sausages higher than the food on the table.
"I've missed this so much. These meats."
"Eat."
Vlad grabbed the sausages with his hands, not bothering with the fork.
The salty sauce washed away his depressive feelings, and Vlad looked incredibly satisfied.
"That's it."
When he was in Deirmar, he had eaten salads with lemon sauce and healthy bread.
Obviously, they had been specially prepared by Alicia for her distinguished guests, and Joseph had been very pleased to eat them, but Vlad hadn't liked them.
They weren't tasteless, but they were frankly bland.
Nothing tastes like meat for a growing child.
"After all, flavors are salty and sweet."
"That's right, that's the truth."
Vlad took a big bite of the sausage, listening to Portly's sincere agreement, and then looked around.
"....."
Everyone was staring at him.
"Does everyone know?"
"More or less..."
Portly scratched his head with a subtle smile.
He hoped that what he was about to do wouldn't seem like a superficial favor expecting something in return.
"..Yes."
Vlad sucked the sauce off his fingers, lost in thought.
The squires' attitude made him feel like he was sitting in a place where he shouldn't be.
Still, he had no intention of leaving.
"What are you going to do on this holiday anyway?"
"Holiday?"
Vlad had nowhere to go.
There were places he missed, but it would take a lot of determination to go back there.
After a moment of thoughtful silence, Portly continued.
"...Would you like to come to my house, then? My father would like to formally invite you."
"To your house?"
Some squires who were far from home went to a friend's house instead of traveling in a group.
The idea was to create connections.
"The truth is, I've never invited a friend before, so I've never been to..."
"You have no background."
Vlad nodded, thinking about Portly's situation.
He had been pressured to make contacts somehow, and all he had received were bitter news.
So the interest of the head of the Kannor family in the blond boy, now in the public eye, was greater.
Not only from the family head's perspective but also from the father's perspective, who was desperate to see the boy named Vlad.
"We certainly know how to treat guests in our house."
"Mmm."
Vlad began to seriously consider Portly's offer.
The mission to Deirmar had been tense.
Now he wanted to eat freshly roasted meat, not sausages.
"Did you say you were looking for a horse?"
"Eh?"
And Portly knew what Vlad wanted besides meat.
"Like I said, my family is involved in livestock farming. We may not be the best family in the north at it, but at least we can get horses better than some around here."
"Oh."
That's it.
It's hard to say no to this.
"Really?"
"Yes. I heard there are better horses than the one Mr. Jager has."
"I can ask and try to get you one."
Joseph can surely get him one, but it doesn't hurt to be prepared.
It's better to find the right one in person than to have it handed to you.
"Phew!"
Vlad smacked Portly on the back of the head with a flourish.
"Alright."
"Are you sure? I'll make sure to have the holidays."
Vlad just laughed, whether Portly was embarrassed or not.
It was a reserved greeting for those close in the alleys.
The boy was reminded of something he hadn't thought about in a long time.
