Lekan stirred awake, his body still adjusting to the luxury of the feather-soft mattress beneath him. As warm sunlight filtered through the curtains, he sat up and stretched, wondering what the day would hold. Is this really my life now? He thought. For the first time since arriving in this world, a spark of excitement flickered in his chest.
A knock sounded at the door before it creaked open. A maid entered, her hands full with neatly folded clothes.
"Good morning, sir. Please prepare for your bath. You'll be dining with His Highness shortly."
Without waiting for a response, she placed the garments on a chair and bowed politely before exiting the room. As the door clicked shut, Lekan's mind wandered back to the previous night. He frowned. Who was listening to us? And why?
He shook the thought away. There was no point obsessing. Instead, he took a deep breath and headed off to wash and dress, determined to make a good impression.
Some time later, Lekan found himself walking through the marble corridors of the estate, accompanied by two quiet attendants. He was led to an elaborately carved door, which was opened for him with practiced formality.
Inside was the prince's private dining room.
Lekan stepped in and offered a respectful bow. "Good morning, Your Highness," he said carefully, making sure not to use the prince's name.
Prince Leo gestured for him to sit. "Come. Join us."
Lekan took the seat across from the prince, next to Rowan, who greeted him with a small nod. But it wasn't just the two of them. To Lekan's surprise, a stern-looking woman in gleaming silver armor was already seated at the far end of the table. Her presence was imposing, her expression unreadable.
As servants entered and placed breakfast dishes before them, Lekan stole a glance at the woman. She didn't seem like someone to cross.
Once the final plate had been served, the maids bowed and quietly left the room. Prince Leo raised his hand, and a faint ripple shimmered through the air—he had erected a sound barrier.
"Now that we're in private," Leo began, "allow me to introduce the woman beside you. This is Bella, a former Paladin of the Church of Solara. From this day forward, she'll be your instructor."
Lekan blinked. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he said, bowing slightly. "I'll be in your care."
Bella turned her steely eyes toward him. "Hmph. For an otherworlder, you seem... timid. And weak."
Lekan clenched his jaw, his eye twitching slightly. He muttered under his breath, "Stupid meathead."
She heard him.
Before he could react, Bella stood from her chair with a smirk. "Change of plans. We're skipping breakfast."
"What?" Lekan's eyes widened.
Rowan sighed, lowering his fork. Prince Leo calmly sipped his tea, but his expression was laced with pity.
"Come," Bella said, grabbing Lekan by the collar as if he were a sack of grain. "Let's see what kind of spine you actually have."
"Wait—hold on! I haven't even—!"
But it was too late. He was hoisted out of the dining room, his protests echoing uselessly behind him.
As the doors closed, Rowan shook his head. "Poor guy."
Leo smirked into his cup. "He'll thank us. Eventually."
Bella led Lekan to a large private outdoor training ground tucked behind the estate. The space was surrounded by high stone walls and shaded by tall trees. Training dummies were lined up neatly across the field, some armored, others scarred and splintered from years of use. Weapon racks filled with swords, spears, staffs, and shields. The sun beat down gently, casting long shadows on the dirt track that circled the grounds.
"Run at full speed. Now," Bella said, standing with her arms crossed.
Lekan blinked. "Uh... why?"
She didn't answer. Instead, her hand slid down to the hilt of her sword, resting there just long enough to make her message clear.
"Okay! Got it," he muttered, already jogging away.
To his surprise, his body moved fast—faster than he thought possible. His feet pounded the dirt, and the wind rushed past his ears. But the excitement didn't last.
By the second lap, his lungs were already on fire. Sweat dripped from his forehead. His legs burned. On the third lap, he began to wheeze, struggling to catch his breath. Halfway through the fourth, his body gave out, and he collapsed onto his knees, panting hard.
Bella walked over slowly, staring down at him like he was a failed experiment. "Pitiful."
Lekan groaned and wiped sweat from his eyes. "Can I rest now?"
"No," she said. "Restore your strength and pray."
He raised his hand weakly and began to pray, gasping between words. "Great Solura… guide my hands with your warmth…"
Bella rolled her eyes. "Wrong. That's not the prayer for stamina or physical recovery. You really know nothing."
Lekan blinked up at her, still breathing hard. "What? How many different prayers are there?"
"Quiet. Now repeat after me: Solara, kindle my spirit and let your dawn rise within me."
As she spoke, a soft golden light shimmered around her chest, calm and warm, like sunrise.
Lekan stared at her in awe, distracted by the glow and the graceful way she carried herself. She looked like she belonged in a painting.
"Stop daydreaming. Say it."
He snapped back to reality. "Right. Uh… Solara, kindle my spirit and let your dawn rise within me."
A sudden warmth surged through his chest, spreading down his arms and into his legs. His breath steadied. It was like being filled with fresh air.
"Run again," Bella said, already walking back toward the starting line.
"Seriously?" Lekan sighed but obeyed.
Again and again, he ran. Each time he collapsed, Bella forced him to pray and start over. His body ached more with each lap, but he couldn't deny it; he was recovering faster and running farther. He was learning. As the sky began to shift into orange and purple, Bella finally raised her hand.
"Enough, it's time for dinner."
Lekan slumped over, grateful. As they walked back, Bella glanced at him with narrowed eyes.
He's got too much divine energy for someone untrained… interesting.
As they reached the estate, Lekan lifted his hand again. "Great Solura, guide my—"
"Stop!" Bella barked.
He froze.
"What are you doing now?"
"My legs are killing me. I was gonna—"
"If you heal that pain, you'll undo all the muscle growth from today. That prayer heals your body, but it doesn't let it grow stronger. You'll stay weak."
Lekan stared at her, shocked. "So I almost erased an entire day's training?"
She nodded. "Exactly. Let your muscles recover the normal way."
He gave a sheepish nod.
"Go clean yourself up. You have thirty minutes to get to the prince's private dining hall."
"Later That Evening… "
The bath was incredible. Warm water filled a giant marble tub, steam rising into the lit room. The scent of lavender and citrus oils hung in the air, and for a moment, Lekan felt like royalty. He sank into the tub, letting the heat melt the soreness from his limbs. His eyes slowly drifted closed.
Then he heard it.
Tap.
A light sound. Almost too light.
He sat up quickly, ears perked. Tap… tap…
Like soft footsteps. A cat? A maid?
Curious, Lekan climbed out of the bath and wrapped a towel around his waist. His bare feet padded across the warm stone floor as he moved toward the hallway.
That's when he saw them.
A masked figure in black stood over the body of a maid, a small blade still slick with blood. Another servant was slumped nearby, lifeless, her throat cut clean. The hallway was quiet, eerily still only the sound of dripping blood filled the air.
Lekan froze. The masked intruder slowly turned his head.
Their eyes met.
Lekan's heart stopped.
Then he screamed.
The figure lunged.
Lekan turned and ran, his towel barely holding on, feet slapping against the marble as panic overtook him. He didn't look back, but he heard it. The rush of boots behind him. The whisper of steel.
Then pain exploded in his chest.
A blade pierced through his chest, and blood began bursting from the wound. The force spun him around. He crashed to the floor, the breath knocked from his lungs. His towel slipped, but he didn't care. All he could feel was the cold.
The masked figure said nothing.
With a swift, silent leap, they vanished into the shadows, slipping through the open window like a ghost.
Lekan's hand instinctively reached for the wound in his chest, his fingers trembling as he felt the warm and sticky blood. The pain throbbed deep, sharp, and unrelenting. His heartbeat echoed in his ears, drowning out everything else.
Blood… there's so much blood…
He gritted his teeth. Panic was clawing at the edge of his mind, but somehow, he remembered. The prayer. He had to try.
"I—I can do this…" he whispered through clenched teeth.
Clutching the gash, he shut his eyes and raised his other hand toward the ceiling. His voice was weak, shaky, but full of desperate conviction.
"Great Solura… guide my hands with your warmth… and bring healing to the wounded…"
A soft glow flickered in the air, barely visible in the dim hallway. Warmth surged through his palm, gentle like morning light cutting through a cold fog. He felt the searing pain begin to fade, the wound slowly closing as the magic took hold.
Lekan let out a breath of relief.
But the effort had drained him.
His knees gave out, and he slid to the floor, his back pressed against the wall, his breath still shallow but steady. The glow faded. His hand dropped to his lap.
I did it…
That was his last thought before everything finally went dark—and he slumped to the floor in silence.