"How much is he going to eat..?"
"You know he's a war orphan. Probably never had a meal like this a day in his life."
"Training's going to suck for him later…"
Solomon could only half hear the chatter surrounding his habits. The internal sounds of his frequent chewing more than drowned out the gossiping of children.
Cadets in the barracks have diets tailored to their individual needs and tastes. At the beginning of the semester, they sit down with the head chef and explain to him exactly the kind of physique they want to build, and their meals are planned accordingly.
However, in Solomon's case, the chef made his own judgment call.
He didn't ask the boy a single thing and just started loading food onto his plate. The only words exchanged were 'don't be afraid to ask for seconds'.
For someone like Solomon, who had been living on the streets for two years, this experience alone made getting beaten up this morning worth it.
He barely remembered the last time he got to eat something that he didn't steal out of the trash or that had been gifted to him. And he took full advantage of the cook's generosity.
He ate until his body audibly demanded that he stop. And even then, he had two more bites of egg and cheese bagels before calling it quits.
At some point between his agony and wondering if this qualified as the best day of his life, he remembered that he still had afternoon training after this.
Regret flooded all of his synapses.
Ordinarily, cadets partake in a period of self-study for a few hours in the library. But Emmanuel decided that Solomon's pace would be a little different.
Finally, the boy stood up and resisted the urge to groan at the excess food sloshing around in his stomach.
While everyone else headed off to the library, Solomon waddled back to the training grounds alone and miserable.
Moving past the sand pits, he walked through a set of heavy doors and entered a large gymnasium.
Inside, there were two things. Weights and soldiers.
The younger cadets' training hall was sometimes used by the seniors when it was free.
The room full of fifteen and sixteen-year-old squires on the cusp of knighthood had naturally heard about the outside child who'd been brought in by the eccentric youngest master.
They were just as amused by the sight of Solomon as everyone else in the castle had been. If not more so.
"Jeez, kid... What the hell?"
When Emmanuel walked over and saw Solomon's distended stomach, he knew the boy had taken serious advantage of the meal program.
"I told you to eat your fill, not eat your body weight."
Solomon did not hear a difference.
"You're early too..." Emmanuel sighed and pointed at the far wall. "Take a few laps and digest. Walk, do not run. If you throw up in here, I'll rub your nose in it like a dog."
"Are you sure I shouldn't-"
"I. Will. Hit. You."
Solomon started walking.
As Sir Emmanuel had suggested, he moved at a more controlled pace and didn't overexert himself.
While walking, Solomon paid close attention to the exercises that the knights were doing.
They lifted huge round stones to build their muscles and carried or tossed them great distances.
Solomon was honestly impressed by just how much strength they wielded. He became envious.
"Watch where you're going, war baby!"
Solomon was lapped by several knight cadets who carried the stones on their backs while running at full speed.
As they rushed past him, he noticed that each cadet seemed to be covered by a wispy blue shroud. The energy coming from their bodies made his skin prickle.
'So that's aura... cool.'
Solomon knew that knights used aura to make themselves living gods, but he had never seen it in practice before.
He wondered if the cadets were at a level where they could cut the moon and stars like the legends spoke of.
Solomon was so fascinated by the sight that he didn't even see the two shadows approaching him from behind.
"Well, now, isn't this something. You can see it, can't you?"
Solomon turned around and found two individuals staring down at him.
One was a young woman with tanned skin and a rough appearance.
The visible parts of her body were littered with scars. Though none of them was quite as severe as the eyepatch over her left eye.
In comparison, the young man beside her was picturesque.
He had unblemished, fair skin and the physique of a highly trained knight. His black hair was neatly tousled to give him a roguish, charming look.
He was the near spitting image of Raizel. Just because of that, Solomon was tempted to step away.
Just one Olethros was crazy enough. He couldn't imagine a second.
"You can see it, can't you?" He asked again.
Solomon was good at feigning ignorance. He was even better at it when he actually had no idea what he was being asked about.
"…I'm not sure what you mean, young master." He was glad he'd remembered to speak with the honorifics he'd been taught.
Raizel's brother wasn't fooled.
"Those young knights' aura. You could see it."
Now more than before, Solomon was convinced he was being tested for something.
"…I believe that everyone can see aura, young master."
"You cheeky brat." He scoffed. "Of course, everyone can see that flashy stuff at higher levels. But you think those fledglings are at a point where they can do that?"
Solomon honestly hadn't put much thought into it.
He was still new to the ways of knighthood. This interaction was a perfect reminder that Solomon's body wasn't the only thing he would have to work on strenuously.
"Ah, pardon me. I'm Uriel, and this is my vassal, Rena. You can consider her your senior."
Rena glared down at Solomon like he was two inches tall. "If you ask me for anything, I'll kill you."
Solomon felt a wave of unidentifiable emotion.
Uriel clicked his teeth disapprovingly. "Now that's not nice, Rena. The youngest went out of his way to bring in such a unique talent from outside. We should do our part to make sure that he feels welcome."
"Hmph." The girl turned her head.
Uriel started to wrap his arm around Solomon's shoulders. "You've got some free time, right? Why don't you and I-"
"Cadet! Times up!"
Knight Emmanuel appeared beside Solomon like a gust of wind. His eyes hadn't even noticed him arrive.
"Muscle training starts now. Welcome to your first taste of hell, Cadet."
The next thing Solomon knew, Emmanuel was dragging him away by the scruff of his neck like he was a small dog.
When they were a good distance away, Emmanuel spoke in a low tone that only he could hear.
"Look, Cadet. I don't know how many of the dos and don'ts you've been briefed on about how things work around the castle, but interacting with any of the young masters is number one on the 'don't' list."
"...May I ask why?" Solomon uttered quietly.
"This place is a viper's nest, kid. All of the young masters want the Patriarch's position. They will do anything they have to do to get it, just shy of killing one another out in the open.
If you plan to stay here, you're going to have to learn the game of politics and learn it well. Otherwise, you're going to end up with a knife in your stomach at the very least.
In Olethros, a sword hand is required for succession so that the patriarch can properly split their focus and ensure the clan stays at a certain standard. That's what you are to the young master.
If something happens to you, then young master Raizel's chances of succeeding his father drop to almost nothing. Similarly, any fraternization will make you look disloyal, and you'll probably be killed."
Solomon listened to the entire warning with a grim expression.
A sudden thought occurred to him, and his face became even more serious.
"...I have a question."
"You better make damn well sure it's a good one." Emmanuel grumbled.
Solomon nodded firmly and proceeded to ask something Emmanuel never would have expected.
"Am I allowed to interact with that girl Rena?"
Emmanuel stopped dead in his tracks and turned around slowly. "...Cadet, why are you asking me that?"
"She's hot."
"..."
After that day, Solomon wasn't allowed to ask any more questions during training.