Two years had passed like a flowing river—sometimes turbulent, sometimes peaceful, but
always in constant motion.
Arthur was now five years old.
Five years old, and he stood in his room, observing his reflection in the mirror with a
thoughtful expression.
He'd grown. His childish features had refined themselves, revealing a troubling beauty that
promised to become devastating in adulthood. His black hair fell elegantly around his face,
framing his scarlet red eyes—those eyes that always seemed to see too much, understand
too much.
Today marked the beginning of a new stage.
Today, he was going to join the First Training Camp.
The Two Years Gone By
These past two years hadn't been easy.
After Marquoc's spectacular intervention at his birthday, everything had changed—subtle at
first, then increasingly obvious.
His father, Aldric, had started paying attention to him. Not affection—no, Aldric Berher wasn't
the affectionate type—but practical attention. Calculated.
He'd personally selected an instructor for Arthur—an austere old tutor named Master
Cornelius, specialized in educating young nobles.
The first day, when Master Cornelius had tested Arthur's knowledge, the man had been
speechless.
"You… You can read? And write? At three and a half?!"
Arthur remembered the old man's dumbfounded expression when he'd not only read a
complex passage from a historical treatise but had also commented on it with a depth of
analysis that would have honored an educated teenager.
"How is this possible? Who taught you all this?!"
"My mother,
" Arthur had simply replied with an innocent smile.
But the shock hadn't stopped there.
Over the weeks, Master Cornelius had discovered that this extraordinary child possessed
knowledge that far exceeded what a single tutor could have taught. Advanced mathematics.
Detailed continental history. Political geography. Even basic notions of military strategy.
"This is… This is a prodigy. A true genius.
"
The news had spread like wildfire through the estate. The bastard—that despised and
ignored kid—was actually an intellectual prodigy.
This had prompted not only his father, but also several members of the main family to pay
more attention to him. Not necessarily with kindness—jealousy and distrust were still
present—but at least with respect.
Reluctant respect, sure. But respect nonetheless.The System and Its Exploits
During these two years, Arthur had also intensively exploited his system.
He'd understood the mechanism: every time he actively practiced something new, the
system granted him accelerated skills or talents in that area.
And Arthur had been methodical.
[Skill acquired: Equestrian Mastery (Rank: Adept)]
He'd trained in horseback riding—an essential skill for any noble in this world. In a few
months, he rode with the ease of an experienced rider.
[Skill acquired: Divine Culinary Art (Rank: Master)]
His passion for cooking, initially born from the desire to make his mother smile, had
transformed into genuine talent. Even the estate's professional cooks sometimes came to
ask him for advice—an absurd situation where a five-year-old child taught adults.
[Skill acquired: Artistic Calligraphy (Rank: Expert)]
[Skill acquired: Strategy and Tactics (Rank: Intermediate)]
[Skill acquired: Noble Etiquette (Rank: Master)]
And many others still.
But despite all this progress, one statistic remained desperately stuck:
[Mana: 0]
That zero mocked him every time he opened his status panel. Without mana, he couldn't
form a core. Without a core, he couldn't become Awakened.
He remained, technically, a simple ordinary human.
For now.
The Departure
"Arthur? Sweetheart, are you ready?"
His mother's voice pulled him from his thoughts.
Arthur turned around. Anastasia stood on his room's threshold, dressed in a simple but
elegant gown. But what struck Arthur was the expression on her face.
She's… serious. Really serious.
For the first time since he'd known her, his mother wasn't wearing her usual gentle and
reassuring smile. Her face was grave, almost solemn. Her blue eyes—ordinarily sparkling
with tenderness—shone with an intensity he didn't know she had.
She approached and knelt before him, placing her hands on his shoulders.
"Listen to me carefully, Arthur,
" she said in a firm voice.
"You're leaving for the training camp.
You know it won't be easy.
"
She squeezed his shoulders slightly.
"You'll be the only… the only child of your status there. The others are all from the main
family. They'll see you as an intruder. An impostor.
"
Arthur nodded silently.
"If they insult you,
" she continued, her voice trembling slightly,
"if they provoke you, if they
say horrible things to you… stay quiet. Don't react like them. Be a big boy. You understand?"
Her eyes began to shine with contained tears.
"Don't let yourself get drawn into anger. Don't give them the satisfaction of seeing you lose
your cool. Keep your dignity, always.
"
She took a deep breath.
"Listen, my child… Life is unfair. Terribly unfair, sometimes. But this opportunity you've been
given? However difficult it may be, never let it go. You hear me? Never.
"
Arthur felt something tighten in his chest.
This is the first time I've seen her like this.Anastasia—his gentle, smiling, always protective mother—now looked like a warrior sending
her son into battle. A mother who knew her child was going to face a cruel world but had to
let him go anyway.
She understands. She knows exactly what awaits me there.
Arthur placed his small hands on his mother's and smiled—a mature, reassuring smile.
"Don't worry, mom,
" he said in a calm voice.
"Now I'm a big boy. I'll know how to react.
"
Anastasia hugged him with an almost desperate strength, as if she wanted to engrave this
moment in her memory.
"I know,
" she murmured against his hair.
"I know you're strong. Stronger than any child your
age. But…
"
Her voice broke slightly.
"
…you'll always be my baby.
"
Arthur closed his eyes and returned her embrace.
I promise you, mom. I'm going to come back stronger. And one day, nobody will dare
disrespect you anymore.
A discreet knock at the door interrupted their moment.
A servant rushed in, her face slightly breathless.
"Madam,
" she said, bowing respectfully,
"someone has come to fetch young master Arthur.
"
Arthur's heart tightened.
It's time.
He stood up, adjusted his tunic embroidered with the Berher clan colors, and took a deep
breath.
Let's go.
The Meeting
Arthur descended the stairs, his mother walking beside him in silence. When they reached
the entrance hall, he spotted a man he'd never seen before.
The man was tall—not as much as Marquoc or Aldric, but imposing nonetheless. His hair
was a surprising emerald green, cut short in a strict military style. His eyes, icy blue,
scrutinized Arthur with disturbing intensity.
He wore light reinforced leather armor, marked with the Berher clan insignia. A longsword
hung at his belt.
A guard? No… An instructor, probably.
The man looked him up and down with an indecipherable expression, then let out a small
grunt.
"So you're the prodigy,
" he said in a deep, unfriendly voice.
It wasn't a question. It was almost an accusation.
Arthur held his gaze without blinking.
"I'm Arthur Berher,
" he replied calmly.
The man snorted—a humorless sound.
"Arthur Berher, huh? We'll see if you really deserve that name.
"
He made a sharp hand gesture.
"Come on. Follow me. We don't have all day.
"
Arthur turned one last time toward his mother. She was smiling—a trembling but brave smile.
"I love you,
" she mouthed silently.
"Me too,
" he replied the same way.
Then he turned around and followed the green-haired man out of the estate.
On the RoadThey walked in silence for several minutes, crossing the estate's immaculate gardens. Arthur
discreetly observed his escort.
Who is this guy? A camp instructor? A guard assigned to watch me?
He mentally activated his special vision.
Instantly, green particles—a deep green, almost forest—appeared around the man. They
were dense. Very dense. Much more than ordinary servants'
, and even more structured than
his twin brothers'
.
He's powerful. Probably Master rank, maybe Prime.
"You gonna stop staring at me like that, kid?" the man suddenly growled without turning
around.
Arthur startled slightly.
Shit. He sensed my gaze?
"Sorry,
" he said politely.
"I was just wondering… who are you?"
The man stopped abruptly and turned around, crossing his arms over his massive chest.
"My name's Gareth,
" he said in a gruff tone.
"Chief instructor of the First Training Camp. And
incidentally, the one who's going to make you regret accepting this invitation.
"
A nasty smile stretched his lips.
"I hope you're ready, prodigy. Because where we're going…
"
His blue eyes gleamed with an unsettling light.
"
…spoiled brats like you usually don't last long.
"