A sharp knock on the door jolted me awake.
— "Young master… your instructor awaits in the courtyard." — the butler's voice came from the other side.
I dressed quickly. The Ducal training uniform was simple yet elegant—black fabric with gold accents. Light. Flexible. Designed for movement.
As I walked through the hallways, one thought echoed in my mind:
"So… this is it. I have food now. Clothes. A place to live. And money. All I have to do... is please the Duke."
Simple… right?
When I arrived at the courtyard, a man was already waiting. Grey hair, stern face, thin but built like iron. A sword hung at his waist, and his eyes were those of someone who had seen more blood than sunlight.
— "Clint, correct?" — His voice was sharp and cold. — "From today forward, I will be your instructor in swordsmanship and basic Mantra control."
I nodded in silence.
— "First lesson. Posture. Straighten your back. This isn't a filthy alley. You walk like a man here… or die like a rat."
And so it began. Basic techniques. Stances. Balance. Breathing.
It was... weird. My body was used to running, dodging, hiding. Not this.
For what felt like hours, he corrected me over and over. His patience wore thin fast.
But then... something shifted.
A presence. Heavy. Oppressive.
The air itself felt heavier with each approaching step.
I turned my head slowly... and there he was.
Darius.
Arms crossed, shoulders relaxed… but his eyes? Razor sharp.
He stood there. Silent. Watching. Unmoving. Like a predator observing prey.
The instructor didn't notice. Too focused on scolding me again.
— "No! Not like that! Your grip is wrong—"
— "You call this... training?"
The voice hit like thunder.
The instructor spun around, face draining pale.
— "S-Sir Darius! I... I was just—"
Darius walked toward him. Slowly. Each step heavier than the last. His eyes half-lidded, filled with nothing but contempt.
Then, without warning, he grabbed the instructor by the throat.
A gasp escaped the man's lips. His feet lifted off the ground.
— "Pathetic. Disgraceful. You think this is teaching Mantra? This? This wouldn't even pass for training farmers to plow fields..."
Darius tightened his grip.
— "You know what you should do? Open a little school for princesses. Teach them how to waltz. That's more your speed."
— "P-Please... sir... I—"
— "Shut up."
With a flick of his arm, he hurled the man several meters away. His body crashed onto the ground, rolling until it stopped near a group of guards who immediately rushed to him.
Without even glancing back, Darius said,
— "Take that trash to the infirmary. And tell the Duke… if he wants a real warrior… I'll handle it."
Then… he turned to me.
Slowly. No smile.
Eyes cold. Lifeless. But glowing with... expectation.
— "You…" — He walked until he was just a step away. — "You're lucky. And unlucky. Lucky… because I'm willing to teach you. Unlucky... because I don't teach failures."
He took a step back, cracking his shoulders.
— "Let's see something first."
Before I could even react, his fist smashed into my face.
Pain exploded. My body flew backward, hitting the ground like a broken doll.
— "Get up." — His voice was empty. Soulless.
Coughing. Blood filled my mouth. My limbs trembled.
— "Get up. Or die."
Hands trembling, I pushed myself up. Legs shaking. Chest burning. But... I stood.
Darius cracked his neck.
— "Again."
He vanished from sight.
A kick slammed into my ribs. Something cracked. I rolled across the ground, gasping for air.
— "You don't even know what Mantra is, do you?" — He paced around me like a wolf circling prey. — "Then learn. In this world... if you don't fortify your body… you're just meat. Meat waiting to be cut down."
I tried to stand. My hands failed. My legs trembled.
"No... no..."
"I can't... die..."
"I will survive. No matter what it takes."
That voice. That cursed voice inside my head.
The same one from the alleys.
The same one that kept me alive this long.
"Stand. Survive."
My body… burned. Pressure surged from my chest, spreading through my limbs. My heart pounded. My skin... tingled.
The air around me distorted.
A thin, almost invisible layer shimmered—like heatwaves bending the air.
Darius grinned.
— "Heh... look at that..."
— "The Duke told me you'd done this before… and it looks like... it wasn't luck."
I stood. Barely. Gasping for air. But standing.
Darius crossed his arms.
— "Good. Now\... we can actually begin."