The first rays of dawn painted the sky, a soft orange bleeding into pale blue. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves outside, carrying the distant chirping of early birds. Inside the quiet house, a figure stirred. It was Lucian. He slowly opened his eyes, the events of the previous day still lingering in his mind, a knot of unresolved tension tightening in his chest.
He sat up, the worn blanket sliding off his chest, revealing the lean muscles beneath, honed from countless hours of training. He paused, taking a deep breath of the cool morning air, the faint scent of dew and earth filling his lungs.
He went through his morning routine, a series of actions performed with a quiet efficiency. He splashed water on his face from a basin, the coldness making him wince slightly, a shiver running down his spine. Then, he dressed in simple, practical clothing.
There was no wasted movement, no hesitation. Each action flowed into the next, a testament to his discipline and focus.
The aroma of food drifted from the dining room, a silent invitation. Lucian made his way there, the wooden floorboards creaking softly under his bare feet.
As he entered, Leora's voice cut through the stillness. "Well, well," she said, her tone laced with a sharp edge, a flicker of irritation and playfulness in her eyes.
"If it isn't the Lord of the house, we commoners are humbled with your presence. I was beginning to think you'd taken up permanent residence in the red-light district." Her words hung in the air, thick with sarcasm, a challenge laid down.
Lucian turned, his gaze softened and smile appeared in his face. Instead of replying immediately, he performed a subtle action. His tongue moved, a barely perceptible touch against the roof of his mouth. He was connecting with the System, a silent, internal communication.
Can you show me her status window? he asked, his thoughts clear and focused, the question edged with a hint of urgency.
A voice echoed in his mind, the System's reply. "Wait until tomorrow, and I will be able to do it."
Okay, Lucian responded, the exchange brief and efficient, a mental nod of acknowledgment.
Leora's eyes narrowed, her expression hardening, a slight furrow appearing on her brow. "Now you've even learned to ignore me," she accused, her voice rising slightly, a tremor of hurt underlying the anger.
A small smile touched Lucian's lips. It wasn't a smile of amusement, but something more thoughtful, a subtle curve that hinted at understanding. "How about we train today?" he suggested. "I get the feeling a simple 'sorry' won't quite cut it, right?"
Leora shook her head, a hint of weariness in her eyes, her shoulders slumping slightly. "No need," she said. "I don't know how, but you're stronger than me."
"Oh," Lucian replied, the word carrying a weight of understanding. Her mental state seems stable, he mused internally. She probably just needed someone like Ylva to vent to, to share her grief. She's only Rank-2, so the mental effects won't be too severe. Once she recovers from the trauma, she should be fine. Right, System?
"Yes, that is the case," the System confirmed. "But if she consumes the destructive mana potion, the mental effects will disappear, and she will recover faster."
Lucian's thoughts shifted, turning inward. A flicker of determination ignited in his eyes. I should also learn how to use magic and spells, he decided.
He turned back to Leora, his expression neutral. "I'm going to the nearby warrior quarters to practice magic," he announced.
Leora raised an eyebrow, a question forming on her lips. "Why not use our own training ground?"
"You should practice there," Lucian explained. "Besides, I want to get to know our neighbors."
Leora's lips curved into a teasing smirk, a playful glint returning to her eyes. "Do as you like," she said, a playful lilt in her voice. "But try to stay away from the brothels."
Lucian nodded, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Of course," he replied. "And if you get bored with training, you should also explore the city. It might help clear your head."
With that, Lucian finished his meal and left the house. The morning air was crisp and cool against his skin. He walked at a steady pace, the sounds of the city slowly growing louder. After some time, the imposing structure of the warrior quarters came into view.
A man stood at the gate, his eyes following Lucian's approach. The man took in Lucian's expensive-looking clothes and the confidence in his stride, a flicker of greed sparking in his eyes. This kid must be rich to live in a place like that, he thought. I should be polite to him.
As Lucian reached the gate, the man stepped forward, a practiced smile on his face. "What does our new neighbor need from us?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral, yet with an underlying tone of curiosity.
"I was thinking of using the magic training room in your building," Lucian replied, his tone straightforward.
The man's smile widened slightly, a glint of interest in his eyes. "The training room is only for residents," he explained. "But since we're neighbors, I'm sure I can arrange something for you."
He paused, considering his options, a silent calculation running through his mind. "There are two types of training rooms," he continued. "One where many people train together, and one where you can train alone."
"Give me the private one," Lucian said without hesitation.
"It'll cost ten silver coins per hour," the man stated, naming a price. "And you can destroy a maximum of twenty-five training dummies. If you want to destroy more, it'll be one silver coin for every three additional dummies."
Lucian nodded; his expression unchanged. "I'll remember your favor," he said, the words carrying a subtle weight.
The man's heart leaped with satisfaction. He was pleased. This young man was wealthy, and he knew magic. A wide grin stretched across his face. He must be from a powerful family, the gate guard thought.
In Stormhold city, most adventurers without powerful backers struggled for a long time to gather enough money for even a single set of mana potions. It was common for them to only start using magic in their thirties or forties. But Lucian was young and already knew magic what could that mean. He has a strong backer.
The gate guard's mind raced. He's young, handsome, and knows magic. I should have my daughter guide him to the training room. Maybe he'll take a liking to her, and they'll form a bond. Judging by his temperament, he'll be here often.
Even stone can be worn away by constant water. Eventually, he might develop feelings for her. But I need an excuse... An idea sparked in his mind, a cunning glint in his eyes.
"It's my turn to guard the gate for the next two hours," he announced to Lucian. "So, I can't accompany you personally. But don't worry, my daughter can lead you there."
"Okay," Lucian replied, his tone even.
The man beamed inwardly, though his face remained composed. He turned and shouted, calling for his daughter. After a short wait, a young woman approached, her expression clearly annoyed, her brow furrowed in irritation.
"Why are you shouting so early in the morning?" she demanded, directing her irritation at her father. "Just guard the damn gate."
She was tall, easily towering over Lucian. Her hair was a deep, inky black, braided tightly and falling over her shoulder in a thick tail. She was beautiful, with a strong, athletic build that suggested she was also an adventurer.
The man gestured towards Lucian. "This young man wants to use the magic training room," he explained.
The girl's eyes widened in surprise. "But that's only for residents," she protested.
"Hahaha," her father chuckled. "Of course, it is. But we can't refuse a favor to our new neighbor, can we?"
"You want me to be his guide?" the girl asked, her tone flat.
Her father nodded, his smile widening. "You should help this young sir. And since you're the same age, you could become friends." He glanced at Lucian and said with a wink, "Right?"
Lucian caught in this father daughter conflict said awkwardly, "Yeah, of course. We can be friends."
The girl's eyes twitched slightly at her father's obvious maneuvering. "Of course," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'll take good care of him." She shot a glare at her father before turning and gesturing for Lucian to follow.
Lucian and the girl walked through the warrior quarters. The training grounds were bustling with activity. People were practicing their sword skills, some with intense focus, others with a more casual air.
"Can you use magic?" Lucian asked, breaking the silence.
"No, but I will be able to soon," she replied, her voice holding a note of determination.
"How?" Lucian inquired.
"There's going to be a tournament," she explained. "The winner gets a set of potions to start their magic journey."
Lucian raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in his voice. "But isn't the reward a Rank-2 set of potions?"
The girl laughed, a short, sharp sound. "If I have a Rank-2 set, I can easily get a Rank-1 set. Use your brain, fool."
Fool, Lucian thought. A flicker of annoyance crossed his face. This was the second time someone had used that word towards him. He decided to let it slide for now. He would have his revenge as "Mr. Prince" in the upcoming tournament.
"I heard there's an unbeatable champion," Lucian said, changing the subject. "He wears a mask. Could you defeat him?"
"First of all, he's not unbeatable," the girl corrected him. "He lost for the first time last year. And second, do you know who was third last year?"
"You?" Lucian guessed.
The girl laughed, a genuine, amused sound this time. She reached out and patted Lucian on the head, a gesture that made him bristle slightly, his jaw tightening. "Haha," she chuckled. "Even if you are short, you do have a brain."
Lucian's eyes narrowed. Nobody had ever called him "short" before. He gently removed her hand from his head, his expression shifting slightly, a hint of steel entering his gaze.
"What makes you so confident that you can beat the two people ranked above you?" he asked, his tone mocking.
A shadow of regret passed over the girl's face. Her shoulders slumped slightly, and her gaze softened. "Last year, in the semi-finals, I fought against the champion, not that masked man," she explained. "If we had fought in the semi-finals, I would have defeated her."
"Excuses, excuses," Lucian said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
The girl's eyes flashed with annoyance, her fists clenching slightly. She opened her mouth to retort, but Lucian interrupted her.
"How strong is last year's champion?" Lucian asked, his eyes suddenly bright with genuine curiosity.
Her expression softened, replaced by a look of awe and admiration. A soft smile graced her lips. "The champion is everything I aspire to be," she said, her voice filled with reverence. "Cold, ruthless, and precise. No wasted movements."
She continued, her gaze distant as if lost in a memory. "She's elegant, beautiful, and most importantly, her demeanor... She looks like a celestial being, not from this world."
"Will she participate this time?" Lucian asked, his voice carefully casual.
The girl's expression turned slightly wistful. A sigh escaped her lips. "I don't think so," she replied. "Nobody has seen her since the tournament ended last year."
Lucian chuckled, a low, quiet sound. "How lucky for you," he said. "Your position will improve. You'll be second this year."
The girl's eyes narrowed, her gaze hardening. "You think I'll lose to that masked man?" she challenged. "I will carry on her legacy."
No, Lucian thought to himself. A smirk played on his lips. You will lose to me.
"What was last year's champion's name?" Lucian asked, changing the subject.
"Her name is Freya," the girl replied, the name spoken with a quiet reverence.