The morning was yet to peak, but inside a room, one with a large bed and quality furniture, a young man lying on the bed slowly opened his eyes and sat up.
He took a few breaths and then swung his legs off the bed, standing up to reveal his naked form, but before he could move, he noticed movement on the bed, a bundle of long, luscious black hair rising to reveal caring black eyes.
As the woman rose, the sheets over her fell, revealing bits of her fair, smooth skin, but before she could fully sit up, the man shook his head.
"Go back to sleep."
The woman paused, her gaze conflicted, then rested her head back on the bed, watching as the man dressed, leaving just his upper body exposed, and eventually departed.
Leaving the room, the man passed through a long corridor and then stepped out into the cold of the early morning.
Despite the darkness, there were torches lit around the building, and he picked up one, lifting it so the flames were nearly in the sight of his eyes, and began moving.
The man's journey did not take long. He passed by a few men armed to the teeth who bowed to him and then stopped before a long but simple building.
Knock!!
Knock!!
The door was quickly opened, an old woman with a scarf around her head appearing behind it.
"My prince," she immediately bowed, stepping back and opening the door wide.
Nodding to her, the two of them made no further exchange as the young man walked deep into the building, only pausing when he arrived before a door.
Standing outside, a chill went through the man, and he trembled, as had become his daily routine.
He took in a few breaths to calm his mind, and before apprehension could claw at his will, he pushed the door open.
Stepping into the room, the young man came face to face with a mature woman dressed in large white robes, the torches lit around the room revealing her concentrated face. He bowed.
"Master."
The woman's eyes opened almost immediately.
"Don't you think you should take a break today?"
"It affects nothing."
Nodding, the woman stood and, leading the young prince into a room beside it, walked before an altar, one whose top was embedded with hundreds of nails, their pointed ends facing upwards.
Asking no further questions, the young man walked toward the altar, discarding his trousers on the way.
His body shuddered as he approached it, memories flashing through his head, but he shook them away.
Gripping his fists, with practiced ease he climbed onto it, carefully resting his back on the nails, all of his form laid upon the altar. Then he looked at the woman.
"An extra hour today."
The woman was taken aback, uncomfortable with his request, but his firm gaze made her nod. She put a piece of cloth in his mouth, which he readily bit on, then placed her hands on the side of the altar, channeling her mana into the stone.
For the first few seconds, nothing happened—just the feel of dozens of needles poking at his back. Then, as always, it came. The nails on the altar all seemed to penetrate his body, poking deep into his flesh.
The young man immediately bit down hard on the cloth, his eyes widening, his forehead straining as a deep groan left his mouth.
He tightened his fists as he fought to keep himself in place, overpowering the voice that begged him to get off the altar and escape this hell.
"This is nothing," he told himself. "If I can't do this, I am nothing," he berated himself.
From the side, the mature woman watched impassively, knowing that they still had two more hours to go, her only task being to channel energy into the stone and control the movements of the artifact.
The young prince might feel like his body was being bored into, but what was really happening was that sharp tendrils of mana were being ejected from the tips of the nails into him.
...…
"Why did you agree to his request?" a very beautiful woman with red hair exclaimed, glaring at a woman with shaved hair dressed in black combat pants and a jacket.
"I'm his teacher. I can't turn him down."
"Today is the awakening ceremony, you know that," the redhead gritted.
"His training doesn't affect the outcome."
The redhead pointed a trembling finger at the woman opposite her, then turned and marched toward the line of horses and carriages, coming to a stop before a particular black one.
Its door was open, and the woman looked inside at her son, care and worry flashing in her eyes as he sat bent over.
Her gaze moved to the woman sitting close beside him, and anger threatened to burst forth, but she held it down.
If the boy could get to his master, then blaming the woman would be unfair.
"Take care of him," she fixed her gaze on the woman inside.
"I will, Chief," the answer came swiftly, accompanied by a bow.
Satisfied with the reply, the woman turned to the man. She wanted to say a few words to him but hesitated and, in the end, turned away.
"I'll be fine, Mom."
The woman paused, then eagerly nodded.
"Please be."
The group escorting the prince quickly got ready, and soon his convoy was moving, his mother at the back glancing to the side at his master.
"You should have gone with them."
"I'm your protector first before I am his master."
Inside the caravan, the prince sat upright, piercing pain shooting through his body, though it was far more manageable compared to what he had endured earlier that morning.
He rested his head back and looked up, thinking about the events of his life since he transmigrated into this world and the events about to unfold.
His name was Cloud Outsborn. He was the prince of Dakurt Village, his mother, Elva Outsborn its Chief.
Beside him sat his concubine and personal guard, Dina Frolsburg, a woman assigned to him since he was thirteen.
They both shared the same master, and at some point over the years, Dina had sworn loyalty to him.
The world he had transmigrated into was one of fantasy, where magic was not a myth but the norm.
Power belonged to the strongest, and the strongest were decided by who could wield the most powerful magic.
Awakening one's magic and, most importantly class, played a major role in determining how far someone could go on their journey of strength.
Failing to awaken his class for the past four years, tomorrow, when he turned twenty, was his last chance. His mother had managed to bargain for him a slot at Leonasia's kingdom awakening ceremony, hoping its more advanced methods would succeed.
A military general in his past life, Cloud was far more aware of the village's external affairs than his mother believed.
His slot in the Leonasia awakening ceremony had not come cheap, and it spoke volumes about how much not just his mother, but the entire village needed him to become powerful.