I groaned and buried my face deeper into the pillow. My body felt like it had been fused to the mattress—every single muscle ached in that special way that reminded me I wasn't safely tucked away in the Celestial estate anymore.
"Young Master."
Lyra's voice was quiet and gentle, but it did the job of dragging me out of sleep anyway.
I forced my eyes open and stared at the ceiling. Same as last night. Gray stone, mana-lamps dimmed to their soft morning setting.
"Come in."
The door slid open and Lyra stepped in, already dressed and looking way too put together for this hour. She was holding a fresh set of clothes that I honestly hadn't even thought about yet.
"Good morning, Young Master. It's 6:30 AM. Breakfast is in an hour."
"Thanks," I muttered, dragging myself upright. My body didn't scream quite as loud as yesterday, which I guessed counted as progress. Barely.
She set the clothes on the desk. "I took the liberty of having these warmed. The cold here is... aggressive."
I snorted. "That's one word for it."
She gave me that small, real smile of hers and stepped out to wait.
I dragged myself to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face. The guy in the mirror stared back at me with dark circles under his eyes and hair that looked like a bird had nested in it overnight. Same face as yesterday. Same mess.
You're really doing this, huh? I asked myself.
[Apparently.] Nova's voice was groggy, which made no sense since he didn't actually sleep.
[It's too early for philosophical questions, Host.]
Since when do you sleep?
[I don't. But I can still be annoyed by your morning thoughts.]
...Ugh, this bastard.
I could practically feel him smirking in my head, that smug damn expression he always had when he thought he was being clever.
I sighed, washed up properly, and changed into the warmed clothes Lyra had brought. Honestly, that woman was a lifesaver. I didn't know what I'd done to deserve her, but I wasn't about to question it.
I ran a hand through my hair, gave up on making it look presentable, and headed for the door.
Lyra was waiting in the hallway just like always.
"Ready, Young Master?" she asked.
I yawned and looked at her with a slight smile. "Not really. I still wanna sleep for like, another five hours. But let's go anyway."
She smiled that quiet smile and fell into step beside me.
The corridors were busier now compared to last night. Soldiers moved with purpose, carrying equipment and barking orders at each other.
Somewhere in the distance I could hear the clang of training starting up, metal against metal, mixed with shouts and grunts. And floating through it all was the smell of breakfast cooking, which was really the only thing motivating me to keep moving.
We followed the signs to the dining hall—same one as last night. The moment I walked in, the warmth hit me like a wall. Fire crackling in the hearth, mana-lamps glowing soft and warm, and the smell of actual food making my stomach growl.
Uncle Theron sat at the head of the table, already eating like he'd been up for hours. Aunt Seraphina sat beside him, looking elegant even at breakfast. And the twins—Roran and Eira—were poking at their plates like the food had personally offended them.
Theron glanced up when I walked in and gave me a small nod. I nodded back and sat down.
Lyra hesitated by the door, but Aunt Seraphina waved her over before she could disappear into the background.
"Sit, Lyra," Seraphina said, gesturing to an empty chair. "You're part of this household while you're here."
Lyra looked at me for a split second, checking, and I just shrugged. If Aunt Seraphina wanted her at the table, who was I to argue?
She sat down quietly.
Breakfast was actually loud. Not Mia-level loud, where you couldn't hear yourself think over her chattering, but close.
Roran and Eira argued about something—some game they'd played yesterday, who won, who cheated, who definitely did not push who into a snowdrift. Seraphina tried to mediate between them while also eating. Theron just ignored all of it and focused on his food.
I focused on my food too. It was good. Hearty. The kind of meal that actually stuck to your bones and made you feel like you could survive the cold for at least a few more hours.
Suddenly, Eira poked my arm. I looked down to find her staring up at me with those big curious eyes that reminded me way too much of Mia.
"Big brother Leo," she said.
I raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"
"Do you miss Mia?"
That question caught me completely off guard. I blinked at her for a second, not really sure how to answer.
"...Yeah," I finally said. "I do."
"Does she miss you?"
"Probably." I thought about last night's call, the way her face had lit up when she saw me on the screen. "She made me promise to call again today."
Eira's eyes went wide and sparkly. "Can we talk to her? Roran and me? Can we?"
Roran stopped his argument with his sister mid-sentence and looked at me, suddenly very interested. Both of them stared at me with those matching silver-blue eyes, and I felt my resolve crumble.
Ugh, when they make that face it's impossible to say no. Damn it. They really do remind me of Mia.
[Me too, Host,] Nova spoke up quietly. [I missed her and Mom too.]
Hey, how many times do I have to tell you she's not your mom and sister?
[I'm not listening.]
I sighed and looked at the twins. "Maybe I'll call Mia. If you two behave and finish your breakfast first."
They immediately started shoveling food into their mouths like they hadn't eaten in days. Seraphina hid a smile behind her cup, and I swear I saw Theron's lip twitch. Just a tiny bit.
_
After breakfast, I headed back to my room, but I barely had time to sit down before a familiar face appeared at my door. The young soldier from yesterday stood there, looking official.
"Young Master," he said with a slight bow. "The Count requests your presence in his office."
I nodded. "Lead the way."
I glanced at Lyra, who had followed me back, and she gave me a small nod. I'll be here.
The soldier led me through more corridors, past the training yard where soldiers were already hard at work despite the cold, and up a flight of stairs. We stopped at a heavy door—wood, but reinforced with thick metal bands that looked like they could survive a siege.
The soldier knocked.
"Come in."
He opened the door and gestured for me to enter.
Theron's office was... simple.
That was the only word for it. A desk, neat and organized. Bookshelves filled with reports and tactical maps instead of decorative nonsense. A large window overlooking the training yard, probably so he could watch his soldiers suffer while doing paperwork. No decorations, no trophies, no fancy paintings. Just work.
"Sit," Theron said, gesturing to the chair across from him.
I sat.
He leaned back and studied me for a long moment, his eyes sharp and assessing. I tried not to fidget under that gaze.
Then—
"You really want to train under me?"
I met his eyes without looking away. "I do."
"Why?"
I blinked. "What do you mean?"
"Why me?" He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing just a bit. "Your father is stronger than me. Your grandfather is a living legend. Your own family has its own sword styles that have been passed down for generations. You could have asked any of them for help."
I was quiet for a moment, thinking about how to word this right.
"My father is stronger," I finally said. "That's true. But in terms of pure swordsmanship? You surpass him. Everyone knows it. There are very few people in the whole Human Domain who can match you with just a blade—no arts, no tricks, no fancy techniques. Just sword against sword."
He didn't say anything, so I kept going.
"I want to learn pure swordsmanship first. Before any arts, before any techniques. I want to understand the foundation, the basics, the stuff that actually matters when everything else fails. And for that..." I met his gaze again. "You're the best person I could possibly ask for."
Silence stretched between us.
Then—
"And?"
I sighed. This was the hard part.
"And I want to fix things between us."
His expression didn't change, but I caught it—his jaw tightened just a little. Like he was forcing himself to stay still.
"I know what I did five years ago," I said quietly, looking down at my hands.
"I was a brat. An angry, stupid brat who threw your gift at your feet and called your kindness fake because I was too busy drowning in my own self-pity to see what was right in front of me."
I swallowed hard. "I can't take that back. I know I can't. But I can try to be better now. And I want you to see that. I want to show you that."
The silence that followed was heavy, thick, like the air before a storm. Theron leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling for what felt like forever. I sat there and waited, heart pounding.
Finally, he let out a long sigh.
"I see." He looked at me again. "I'll teach you."
My eyes widened. "Really?"
"But."
Of course. There was always a but.
I waited.
Theron's lips twitched—almost a smile, but not quite. "You need to convince me that you really want to change."
I frowned. "How?"
He pressed a button on his desk.
The door opened and a man stepped in.
He was huge. Not fat—pure muscle. Broad shoulders that barely fit through the doorframe, scarred knuckles that told stories of countless fights, a face that looked like it had been used as a punching bag one too many times.
He wore the standard soldier uniform, but with more pins on his chest. More authority in the way he stood.
I recognized him. He was the one screaming at the recruits in the snow yesterday, the one who looked like he ate nails for breakfast.
Theron gestured toward him. "This is Commander Vex. He's responsible for training new recruits. Soldiers who survive his regimen are the ones who actually live through their first hunt in the Wild Zones."
I looked at Vex. He looked at me. No smile. No nod. Just a flat stare that made me feel like he was already judging me and finding me lacking.
"Leo," Theron said. "You want to train under me. Fine. But first—fifteen days with Vex."
I blinked. "What?"
"Fifteen days of recruit training. The same training every soldier here goes through. If you survive that—if you keep up, if you don't quit, if you prove you actually have what it takes—then I'll train you myself. And I'll teach you one of my original techniques."
My eyes went wide.
His original technique?
That wasn't just training. That was... that was insane. Learning a technique from the Storm Blade himself? Even one technique could change everything. Could give me an edge I didn't have. Could actually help me survive the trial.
I looked at Vex again. He was still staring at me. Still not smiling.
"Fifteen days," I repeated, mostly to myself.
"Fifteen days." Theron nodded. "But understand this—our soldiers don't train for tournaments or glory. They train to survive the Wild Zones. The cold, the monsters, the complete hell of fighting things that want to tear them apart. Vex's training is brutal. People have broken under it. Good people, strong people, people who thought they could handle anything."
I swallowed hard.
Then I met Theron's gaze.
"I'll do it."
Vex's eyebrow rose. Just slightly. Probably the most emotion he'd shown all morning.
Theron studied me for a long moment, searching my face for something. Hesitation, maybe. Doubt. But I kept my expression steady, even though my heart was pounding.
Then—he smiled. Just a little.
"Good."
He looked at Vex. "He's yours. Train him well."
Vex nodded. "Yes, Count. I'll train him to the fullest of my abilities."
He turned to me, and that smile still wasn't there. But something else flickered in his eyes. Respect, maybe? Interest? I couldn't really tell with a face that looked like it had been carved from stone.
"Tomorrow morning. 5 AM. Training yard. Don't be late."
He turned and left without waiting for a response.
I sat there, heart pounding, mind spinning.
What did I just agree to?
[Something stupid.]
...Yeah.
Theron leaned back in his chair. "You might want to reconsider. It's not too late to change your mind."
I shook my head. "No. I said I'd do it. I'm going to do it."
He looked at me for another long moment, and something in his expression shifted. Softened, maybe.
"Your mother always said you had stubbornness. I guess that part of you didn't change."
I almost laughed at that. Almost.
"Go rest, Leo. Tomorrow, your real training begins."
I stood up and walked to the door. My hand was on the handle when I paused.
"Uncle."
"Yes?"
I didn't turn around. "Thank you. For giving me this chance."
He didn't respond right away. But just as I was about to leave, I heard it—a quiet sound, barely there.
I glanced back and saw him nod. Just once.
That was enough.