The rest of the day passed with agonizing normalcy. Breakfast with the family, where I played the adorable toddler while my mind raced with thoughts of mana and cores and awakening. Lillian and Juan discussed household matters. Julian talked excitedly about his upcoming training session with Father.
"Can Quin come watch?" Julian asked suddenly, his black eyes bright with enthusiasm. "I want him to see what real warriors look like!"
I perked up immediately, not having to fake my interest.
Juan considered this, his stern features softening slightly as he looked at me. "He's very young to be watching combat training."
"Please, Father?" Julian pressed. "He should learn early. You always say the Baker family legacy is important."
Juan's lips quirked into an almost-smile. "Using my own words against me. You'll make a fine strategist someday, Julian." He turned to me. "Would you like to watch your brother train, Quin?"
"Yes!" I said, clapping my hands together. "See Julian fight!"
Lillian laughed. "I think that settles it."
An hour later, I found myself being carried by a servant to the training grounds. The Baker estate had a large courtyard dedicated to combat practice. Weapon racks lined the walls, holding wooden training swords, spears, and other implements. The ground was hard-packed dirt, marked with scuffs and indentations from years of use.
But what caught my attention was the people.
A dozen men stood in formation, all wearing simple training clothes. These were knights, I realized. Warriors sworn to House Baker. Their bodies were lean and muscular, their postures perfect, their eyes focused and alert.
And standing before them was Juan.
My father looked different here. At home, he was gentle, patient, the loving parent who smiled at his children's antics. Here, he radiated authority and power. His white hair seemed to gleam in the sunlight. His black eyes were sharp, assessing. He moved among his knights with the confidence of a man who knew exactly how dangerous he was.
Julian was already there, holding a wooden practice sword that looked almost too big for his eight-year-old frame. But he held it properly, his stance solid, his focus absolute.
The servant set me down on a bench at the edge of the training ground, far enough to be safe but close enough to see everything clearly. I sat very still, my eyes locked on the scene before me.
"Begin!" Juan's voice cracked like a whip.
The knights exploded into motion.
I'd seen martial arts before. Watched MMA fights, boxing matches, even attended a few tournaments in my past life. But this was different. This was something else entirely.
The knights moved faster than humans should be able to move. Not superhuman in an impossible way, but enhanced. Refined. Their practice weapons clashed with sounds like thunder. They spun and struck and parried with precision that went beyond mere training.
And then I saw it.
A faint shimmer around one knight's body as he struck. A brief glow that pulsed with his movements. It was so quick I almost missed it, but once I'd seen it once, I saw it everywhere. Every powerful strike, every enhanced movement, was accompanied by that shimmer.
Mana.
They were using mana to enhance their physical abilities. Drawing on their cores to push their bodies beyond normal human limits.
Juan stepped into the sparring circle with one of the knights, and the difference was staggering. Where the knight was enhanced, Juan was transcendent. He moved like water, like wind, his wooden sword a blur of motion. The shimmer around his body was brighter, more constant. His strikes carried weight that I could feel even from the bench, the impact of wood on wood echoing like drums.
The knight defended admirably but was clearly outmatched. Within seconds, Juan had disarmed him and placed the practice sword at his throat.
"Good effort, Marcus," Juan said, helping the knight to his feet. "But you're telegraphing your overhead strikes. Keep your shoulder steady."
The knight, Marcus, bowed respectfully. "Yes, my lord."
Juan turned to Julian. "Your turn, son."
My brother stepped forward, his face a mixture of nervousness and determination. He held his wooden sword in both hands, assuming the stance that had clearly been drilled into him countless times.
"Attack me," Juan said simply.
Julian hesitated for just a moment, then charged. His form was good, his strike properly executed. But he was still just a child who hadn't awakened. He had no mana to enhance his body, no power to draw on.
Juan deflected the strike easily, using Julian's momentum against him to send him stumbling. My brother caught himself, recovered, attacked again. Juan deflected again, this time countering with a light tap to Julian's shoulder.
"Dead," Juan said without emotion. "You dropped your guard after the stumble. Never assume you have time to fully recover during a real fight."
Julian nodded, breathing hard, and attacked again. Over and over, he threw himself at Father, each time getting deflected, countered, defeated. But with each attempt, I could see the tiny improvements. A better recovery. A faster strike. A more solid defense.
And Julian never stopped. Never complained. He just kept trying, kept learning, accepting each loss as a lesson rather than a failure.
I felt something unexpected: respect. Julian was eight years old, facing a Seventh Star warrior, and he didn't back down. He didn't make excuses. He just worked to get better.
After what must have been dozens of attempts, Juan finally called a halt. "Enough. You did well today, Julian."
My brother was drenched in sweat, his hair plastered to his forehead, his chest heaving. But he smiled, that genuine smile of someone who'd given their all. "Thank you, Father."
Juan placed a hand on Julian's shoulder, and for a moment, the stern warrior disappeared and the proud father returned. "You have the heart of a Baker. That matters more than talent or strength. When you awaken next year, that heart will serve you well."
Julian's smile grew wider, and he ran over to me, dropping onto the bench beside me. "Did you see, Quin? Did you see me fight?"
"Julian strong!" I said, reaching up to pat his shoulder in a gesture that probably looked adorable but was meant as genuine acknowledgment.
"I'm going to be a great warrior," Julian said, not with arrogance but with simple determination. "Just like Father. Just like all the Bakers before us."
I watched as the knights continued their training, as Juan moved among them offering corrections and praise. I watched the way mana flowed through them, that faint shimmer I could now recognize. I watched and learned and absorbed every detail.
This was what awaited me after awakening. This was the power I would have access to. But only if I succeeded in my plan to awaken early. Only if I could crack the code and actively fill my mana core.
The challenge felt immense, but I'd never been more motivated.