POV: External — Marquoc's Office
Night had fallen over the training camp hours ago. Inside Marquoc Berher's private office, four figures stood around a massive black oak table. Spread across the surface were training maps, handwritten reports, and detailed evaluations of every child.
Marquoc sat in his leather chair, his red eyes fixed on the documents. His expression was grave. To his right stood Gareth, arms crossed. To his left, Liora leaned against the wall, looking thoughtful. Near the fireplace, Fire-Skull stared into the flames, shirtless despite the night chill.
The silence lasted several minutes before Marquoc spoke. "Well? Your reports."
Gareth was the first to answer. "The five-year-olds are progressing. Some remarkably so." He skimmed a report. "Iode trains with a determination unlike anything I've seen. His spear technique is impressive. Nicolas has developed raw power that rivals seven-year-olds. Teresa masters stealth with a disturbing natural talent. She moves like a shadow."
He paused. "But..."
Marquoc looked up. "But?"
Gareth sighed. "Arthur surpasses them all. By far. He just beat Marcus, an eight-year-old, without even breaking a sweat."
Liora added, "I confirm this. During meditation, Arthur absorbs mana at a speed that defies logic. Most five-year-olds are just beginning to feel mana. Arthur actively absorbs it. At this rate, he could form his mana core in two or three years—years ahead of schedule."
Fire-Skull turned with a predatory grin. "In pure combat? The kid is a monster. He actually touched me during an exercise. Me—a Prime-rank fighter. He anticipated my dodge and trapped me. At five years old."
Marquoc nodded slowly. "So, Arthur is exactly what I hoped for. But that poses a problem, doesn't it?"
"What problem?" Gareth asked. "He's progressing perfectly."
"The problem, Gareth, is the gap," Marquoc said, pointing at the reports. "Arthur is so far ahead that he is creating a fracture. The other children are starting to realize they will never catch him."
Liora nodded. "I've noticed it too. Some children look at him with fear or jealousy. Even Iode is showing signs of growing frustration."
Fire-Skull chuckled. "So what? Arthur is better. The weak always quit."
"No," Marquoc cut him off sharply. "That is exactly what we must avoid. If the others give up, Arthur becomes an isolated genius surrounded by mediocrity. We cannot afford to lose Iode, Nicolas, or Teresa just because Arthur is too strong."
"Are you suggesting we slow him down?" Gareth asked.
"Never," Marquoc shook his head. "Arthur must progress at his maximum speed. But we must ensure the others don't lose hope. We will do this by creating cohesion."
The Strategy
Marquoc turned to Gareth. "From now on, you will organize team exercises—tasks where Arthur cannot win alone. I want him to learn to rely on others. Arthur is strong individually, but he has never had to protect someone or coordinate a team. In these scenarios, the others will shine. Iode as the strategist, Nicolas as the shield, Teresa as the scout."
Liora understood. "You want to show them they have value, even if they can't beat him in a duel."
"Exactly," Marquoc said. He then looked at Fire-Skull. "You will organize a training camp in the forest. Three days, two nights. The forest is unpredictable. There, Arthur's raw strength won't be enough. He will need Iode's strategy and the others' skills. Forced teamwork."
"Interesting," Fire-Skull smirked. "I like it."
Marquoc concluded, "We need Arthur to become a leader people admire and follow, not just someone they fear. If we succeed in bonding Arthur, Iode, Nicolas, and Teresa, we will have an elite core that can carry this clan for decades."
POV: External — Elsewhere in the Mansion
In a distant wing of the Berher mansion, a blonde woman stood by a window in the shadows. Seraphine Berher, Aldric's wife and Arthur's stepmother, stared into the darkness with cold rage.
She held a crumpled report in her hand: Arthur Berher defeated Marcus (8 years old). Exceptional performance.
"How..." she whispered through gritted teeth. "How can this bastard progress so fast? He is five years old!"
She emptied a cup of wine, but her anger remained. "My children, Nyssal and Eric, have trained since they could walk. If this continues, Arthur will eclipse them completely. Marquoc will favor him, and my true children will become mere shadows. No. Never."
She walked to a desk and opened a secret drawer, pulling out a parchment sealed with black wax.
The Man in Black
A few minutes later, there was a secret knock at her door. A man entered, dressed in a black cloak that hid his face. Only his steel-gray eyes were visible.
"You have a mission for me," he said.
"Yes," Seraphine replied coldly. "The clan is organizing a forest training camp. There is a zone in that forest that has been forbidden for decades—the Deep Forest. Awakened monsters still lurk there. Creatures even Masters hesitate to face."
The man narrowed his eyes. "You want me to lure the monsters to the camp?"
"No," Seraphine corrected. "I want you to lure them to Arthur. I want you to use blood baits mixed with herbs. When the monsters attack, Arthur must be on the front lines. Fire-Skull is strong, but he can't protect every child at once."
"If Marquoc finds out..." the man hesitated.
"He won't. It will look like a tragic accident. A monster attack on a camp of children. Who could be blamed?"
"And if Arthur survives?"
Seraphine scoffed. "He is five. Against high-rank awakened monsters? He will die. Or at least, he will be crippled for years. My sons will take their rightful place while he is out of the way."
She tossed a heavy bag of gold coins to the man. "A downpayment. You get the rest when it's done."
The man weighed the bag. "One last question, Madame. What if other children—children from the main clan—die in the attack?"
Seraphine offered a smile that made the man's blood run cold. "Collateral damage is inevitable. As long as Arthur is among the dead... I can live with a few sacrifices."
The man nodded. "Understood."
As he reached the door, he added, "If Marquoc does find out, even I can't protect you."
"He won't," Seraphine sneered. "Because you are the best at what you do."
The man slipped away into the night. Seraphine took the report about Arthur's victory and held it over a candle flame. She watched it turn to ash.
"Soon, Arthur," she whispered into the darkness. "You will be nothing but a bad memory."
She blew out the candle. Darkness swallowed the room.