"Head of House…" William Kael called out as he walked behind Vitra.
"I told you," Vitra replied without turning around, "you can call me 'brother' when no one's around."
"Brother, why don't you ever say anything to your second son?" William asked.
"Why do you ask?" Vitra responded, his gaze fixed ahead.
"I mean… it's one thing for him to act that way in front of others, but shouldn't he at least show some respect toward his father?" William's brows furrowed.
"It doesn't matter if he doesn't," Vitra said with an unwavering tone. "He's always been like that."
"But isn't it a bit too much? He's neither talented nor has anyone backing him. If it's just youthful arrogance, that's one thing—but if left unchecked, it could be detrimental in the future," William warned, his voice calm but concerned.
Vitra slowed his steps slightly. "You're not entirely wrong," he admitted. Then, in a more solemn tone, he continued, "But don't assume he's naive or without ambition."
"He may lack talent, but his efforts surpass even those of the eldest and youngest. Every day, he wakes up before dawn to train his body. After working hard all day, he spends whatever energy he has left on cultivation. He doesn't say much, but I see it all."
"Although he has no real chance of succeeding the throne," Vitra said, "if he continues to put in that kind of effort, then at the very least, he can live a peaceful life."
He paused for a moment, then added, "Also, there was an engagement offer—for him. It came from House Draken."
"Engagement?" William's eyes widened in disbelief. "From House Draken? But why? He doesn't have that kind of talent."
Vitra gave a slow nod. "I heard from an envoy recently. Apparently, the current patriarch's youngest daughter saw him... and expressed her wish to marry him."
He looked over his shoulder briefly. "If Vern accepts the proposal, it could be good for him. It might give him some stability—maybe even protection."
"But, brother..." William's tone grew cautious, "do you think they're trying to tie up all the successor candidates? Just in case?"
Vitra shook his head. "No, I don't think that's the case. If they wanted to play that kind of game, they could've offered their daughter to the eldest. Judging from his nature, he would've accepted without hesitation."
He exhaled slowly, his voice turning more thoughtful. "Besides, I've heard their youngest daughter—Salena—is quite beautiful for her age. If they wanted to make a political move, they would've aimed higher."
"Brother… these things aside, have you heard the news regarding the Holy Alliance?" William asked, shifting the topic.
"What news?" Vitra turned his head slightly, curiosity flickering in his eyes.
"Apparently, there's a new Saintess candidate," William said. "They say she possesses more holy mana than anyone in the history of the Alliance."
"More than anyone in their history?" Vitra raised a brow. "That sounds exaggerated. Did you verify it yourself?"
"Yes, I have," William confirmed. "Though she's only ten years old, her mana reserves surpass even a Third Severance swordsman or mage."
Vitra narrowed his eyes, intrigued. "Do you know what path she's chosen? A warrior's or a mage's?"
"She's chosen the path of a mage," William replied solemnly.
"Hmph," Vitra mused, folding his hands behind his back. "If her talents are nurtured properly, she might even reach Fifth Severance... perhaps even True Severance." He paused, thinking deeply. "Send them congratulatory gifts and…"
He trailed off.
"…" William waited, but no words came.
"…Nothing," Vitra finally said, the moment of silence lingering.
"Yes, Brother," William responded quietly, not pressing further.
After a brief pause, Vitra added, "Also, he will be in charge of training the youngest."
"Ronan?" William asked.
Vitra nodded. "He might become the strongest among them. And if that happens… he could secure our position for a long time."
*****
I opened my eyes.
That was a good sleep—good enough to wash away all the fatigue I'd carried from yesterday.
Hmm?
Am I forgetting something...?
I muttered to myself as I tried to recall a lingering sensation—something I had seen or felt. But no matter how hard I tried, nothing came to mind.
Giving up, I turned toward the window.
The soft sunlight of dawn was streaming in, bathing the room in a warm, reddish hue.
I sat up in bed, stretching my limbs as I admired the quiet beauty of the morning.
Then something caught my attention.
Hmm?
I hummed softly as my gaze shifted to my body.
Though I was only around twelve years old, my muscles had begun to show definition. My arms and legs bore the subtle but unmistakable signs of growth—evidence of the training I had done in the past.
It hadn't been long since my regression, but it was clear my former self had worked hard. The traces of that effort were etched into every inch of my growing frame.
"I should begin my morning training. There's not much time left before I reach First Severance," I muttered, a surge of excitement rushing through me.
But before that, I needed to push my body to its limits. Mastering Footless Steps would demand nothing less—and once I attained First Severance, I'd finally be able to wield sword aura again.
Though I had reached Fourth Severance in my past life, this time… things would be different.
Now that I've been given this opportunity, I will definitely reach True Severance.
Still, I knew the path wouldn't be easy.
Breaking through to Third Severance would be the hardest. It required mana of extremely high purity—something a mid-tier mana core simply couldn't generate. That's why most people with mediocre talent, like myself, never make it past Second Severance, no matter how desperately they try.
I had struggled for thirty long years just to reach the Third Severance. Ironically, I reached the Fourth in less than half that time.
But now… now I knew better.
I knew methods—rare techniques—to surpass that wall. This time, I wouldn't make the same mistakes.
No more reckless crimes.
No more attention-seeking blunders.
I've regressed. That means I have the chance to do it all over again.
And this time—I'll get it right.
While thinking about what to do next, I got out of bed and changed into my training clothes.
"Hmm… even the training gear is expensive," I whispered to myself, running my hand over the high-quality fabric.
That's House Kael for you—the richest among the Five Great Powers.
I tied my black hair into a knot and left my room.
The gymnasium wasn't far, so I walked at a relaxed pace. After a few minutes, I arrived at its entrance—and even though I had seen it before, the sheer scale of it still made me pause.
As expected of House Kael.
Their gymnasium was massive—so vast it could easily rival the ceremony grounds of the Holy Alliance, which were renowned for their size.
If one were to guess, this place could easily hold over fifty thousand people at once.
I entered the gymnasium and made my way straight to the equipment room, where weapons and training gear were neatly stacked.
It was strange—despite having stepped into this place after several decades, I could still remember every corner of it. The familiarity settled into me like instinct.
The room was spacious, filled with everything a warrior might need for training.
There were sandbags of various sizes, weights, and shapes lined against the walls. Though House Kael primarily focused on the sword, it didn't shy away from other weapons—spears, axes, hammers… even a whip caught my eye. That one made me pause for a moment; whips were rare and notoriously difficult to master.
Still, I ignored the weapons and walked over to the sandbags that had caught my attention. Their varying sizes made them ideal for combat conditioning—I used them to tie across my arms, legs, abdomen, and even my sword.
Hmm?
Even with the added weight strapped tightly to my limbs and core, it didn't feel uncomfortable. Almost like… my body was used to this.
Ah… that's right.
I had trained this way from the beginning to compensate for the gap in my talent. Weighted training, balance conditioning… all of it was to level the playing field.
"Not bad," I murmured, giving a rare compliment to my past self.
Without wasting another second, I began running laps across the massive gymnasium floor—each stride heavier than the last, but strangely familiar.
Pant... pant...
After completing the twentieth set, I paused, panting heavily as I tried to catch my breath.
Not bad for the first day.
Honestly, it was surprising that a twelve-year-old body could endure twenty full laps around this enormous gymnasium—especially with all this weight strapped to it.
After resting for a few seconds, I walked over and picked up the sword—still weighed down with the sandbags. It was heavy, far heavier than before. But I raised it regardless and began swinging.
I didn't go into advanced forms or complex techniques. I had plenty of high-grade sword styles from my past life—manuals stolen from prestigious families, each filled with refined killing techniques. They had served me well on my path of survival and strength.
But now wasn't the time to use them.
Instead, I focused on the basics.
Horizontal slash.
Downward strike.
Upward cut.
Stab.
Step and pivot.
Strike again.
Again and again, I swung the sword, repeating the fundamentals until my arms burned and my breathing turned ragged. Hours seemed to blur together in that relentless rhythm. When I finally paused and glanced out the window, I saw the sun had reached its peak.
Around 10 a.m., I guessed.[1]
I sheathed the sword, removed the weights, and carefully packed everything back where it belonged. Then, without a word, I left the gymnasium.
Strangely, I hadn't seen anyone else enter during my entire training session.
Do they all have private training grounds?
Well… whatever.
I dismissed the thought and made my way back to the main estate. On the way, several swordsmen and servants passed by—heading toward their own duties. Some greeted me with respectful nods.
I returned the gesture with silent nods of my own. I didn't have the strength to speak anyway. My body was drenched in sweat. Even my black hair clung wetly to my skin.
And before I realized it, I had already reached my room.
________
Author's Note:
In this world, the sun reaches its peak earlier than in ours—around 10 in the morning instead of noon. This is due to the way time is measured and how the world's rotation works. So when the sun is at its highest point in the sky, it's considered the tenth hour of the day.