External POV
The twins, who were training with their own group of seven-year-olds, couldn't help but cast repeated glances toward the field where the younger children practiced. When they saw Arthur—their beloved little brother—wielding his sword with such impressive fluidity, their faces lit up instantly.
"Whoa! He's so strong!" Dyson exclaimed, hopping with excitement.
"Arthur is amazing!" Ericson chimed in, his eyes shining with pride.
The twins exchanged a knowing look, radiant smiles stretching across their faces.
"Our little brother is the best!" they shouted in unison.
The Interrogation
Crâne de Feu, who had been observing Arthur for some time, suddenly stopped and approached him.
"Hey, kid."
Arthur looked up, wiping the sweat from his brow.
"Where did you learn that?" Crâne de Feu asked bluntly. "Where did you learn to handle a sword like that? Did you have a tutor? Did someone teach you before you came here?"
Arthur blinked, slightly taken aback by the intensity of the questioning.
"No. No one has ever taught me anything."
Crâne de Feu furrowed his brow, visibly skeptical. "No one? How do you expect me to believe that?"
Before Arthur could respond, two familiar voices rose from behind him.
"It's true! He never learned!"
"We're with him all the time! No one taught him a thing!"
The twins had rushed onto the field and planted themselves in front of Arthur, forming a protective wall between their little brother and the instructor. Dyson crossed his arms, looking defensive, while Ericson narrowed his eyes, ready for a verbal showdown.
Crâne de Feu raised his hands in a calming gesture, realizing he might have been a bit too aggressive.
"Ah, sorry, sorry. I was just... surprised by his mastery. It's truly impressive." He placed a hand on Arthur's shoulder with a sincere smile. "You've got real talent, kid."
Iode's POV
Iode, watching the scene from afar, clenched his fists so hard his knuckles turned white.
That bastard... He always attracts attention. Everywhere I go, everything I do, he's always there. Always better. How is this possible?!
He shot a dark look toward Arthur, then stepped forward with determination.
"Fine. Let's duel. You and me. Now."
Arthur turned his head toward Iode, looking perfectly indifferent. But before he could answer, the twins intervened again.
"Hey, Cousin Iode!" Dyson said, holding up his hands. "Now isn't the time! Arthur just started! He's only just beginning!"
"You've been training for years," Ericson added. "He's never had a teacher. Wait at least a week, and I'm sure he'll beat you!"
Iode opened his mouth to protest, but Crâne de Feu stepped in.
"Alright, that's enough. Back to training." He pointed a finger at the twins. "You two, back to your group. Right now. Or you'll face punishment."
The twins hesitated, casting one last protective glance at Arthur, before reluctantly obeying.
Arthur's POV
Arthur continued his sword practice, chaining movements together with almost mechanical regularity. Every gesture felt anchored in his bones; every strike became more natural.
I love this.
I love this feeling of evolving. Of progressing. Of becoming stronger.
A satisfied smile touched his lips. This was exactly what he was looking for.
Beside him, Iode was also training, thrusting his spear with a desperate, almost rhythmic intensity. He was strong and technically competent.
Not bad, Arthur thought, watching him out of the corner of his eye. He has solid foundations. But he lets his emotions dictate his movements too much.
End of Class
"Alright, that's it for today!" Crâne de Feu announced, clapping his hands. "Back to the dormitory, kids."
The dormitory?
Arthur frowned. "We're not going home?" one of the children asked, clearly surprised.
Crâne de Feu raised an eyebrow. "Did no one tell you?" He crossed his arms. "The moment you set foot in this camp, you are destined to stay until your mana core is formed."
A stunned silence fell over the group.
"You can only go home to see your parents during special events. Other than that, leaving the camp is forbidden."
Arthur felt his heart tighten slightly. Mother...
He thought of Anastasia—her gentle face, her words of encouragement before he left. I won't be able to see her for years? For the first time in a long while, Arthur felt a pang of sadness.
No. Focus. You are here to become strong. To protect her. So she never has to suffer humiliation again.
He clenched his fists. I will return. And when I do, no one will ever dare despise us again.
The Dormitory
Arthur, Iode, and Nicolas—the stout boy with the axe—were assigned to the same room. Three beds. Three wardrobes. One window.
Iode entered first and froze. "What?! I have to share a room with... him?!" He pointed at Arthur, looking horrified.
Arthur rolled his eyes. Honestly, this is getting exhausting...
Nicolas entered timidly, clutching his bag awkwardly. Iode turned toward the door as if considering leaving.
"This is impossible. I can't—"
"Planning on breaking the rules already, little Iode?"
Crâne de Feu appeared in the doorway, a mocking smile on his lips. Iode opened his mouth, then snapped it shut.
"But... but..."
"Just do it and shut up." Crâne de Feu patted his shoulder condescendingly and left.
Iode ground his teeth, visibly fuming. "You," he said, pointing at Arthur and Nicolas. "You'd better stay on your side of the room."
He headed for the bed by the window. "I'm taking this one. You two can sleep wherever you want. I don't care."
Arthur shrugged. Take whatever you want. It's all the same to me.
He looked around. Wait... This camp only accepts children from the main line of the clan. So why am I here? I'm a bastard. Ah, right. The Head of the Family personally authorized it. That's why I'm here. But that means Nicolas... he must have a specific reason for being here, too.
Arthur's POV
Arthur turned his attention to Nicolas, who had sat on his bed looking embarrassed.
This boy... He's strong. Much stronger than he looks. But he seems shy. Why would a child this powerful be here?
Arthur approached him. "Hello. My name is Arthur Berher. And you?"
Nicolas looked up, startled, glancing left and right as if checking if Arthur was actually speaking to him. "You... you're talking to me?"
"Yes."
Nicolas blushed slightly. "I... I'm Nicolas. Nicolas Trödster."
Trödster?
Arthur raised an eyebrow. I don't know that name. Not a noble name from the three clans, at least.
"Nice to meet you, Nicolas," Arthur said with a friendly smile.
Nicolas seemed to relax a little. "I... I saw you using the sword earlier. You were really strong. Truly... impressive."
Arthur smiled. He seems kind. A good kid.
"Well, I'm a bit tired," Nicolas said, standing up. "It's been a long day. I'm going to sleep." He lay down on his bed and closed his eyes almost immediately.
Arthur glanced at Iode, who was pointedly ignoring him, staring at the ceiling with his arms crossed. Well, at least he's not bothering me. He lay down on his own bed and closed his eyes.
2:00 AM
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Arthur slowly opened his eyes, pulled from sleep by a rhythmic sound. He turned his head to the left. Nicolas was sound asleep, snoring lightly. He turned his head to the right and froze.
Huh?
Iode was on the floor, doing push-ups. He was shirtless, sweat dripping from his forehead, his jaw clenched in concentration.
One. Two. Three. Four.
He performed the repetitions with methodical consistency. Arthur stared, surprised.
He's training... at two in the morning?
This kid... he's truly determined. He really refuses to lose.
Arthur felt something shift in his perception of Iode. I thought he was just an arrogant brat. A noble relying on his name and resources. But... he trains in secret. Even at night. He works hard.
Arthur closed his eyes and lay back down.
I see. I understand now. He's not just weak. He's... frustrated. Frustrated at not meeting expectations. Frustrated at seeing someone else succeed where he struggles.
A faint smile touched his lips.
Fine. Keep going, Iode. Get stronger. Because I'm going to get stronger, too.
He rolled over in bed. Today, I was tired. But tomorrow... I'm going to take my training even more seriously.
Because now, I have one more reason to progress. To show this stubborn kid that talent and hard work can surpass noble blood.
And with that thought, Arthur fell back asleep.