I woke up peacefully in the morning. My body was still that of a seven-year-old child, so I couldn't push myself beyond its limits. If I was tired, sleep would take me instantly. I still couldn't access the mana inside my body properly. It remained in a dormant, chaotic state—like a storm sealed behind glass—until my awakening.
Even the thought of my awakening made my heart race.
Elemental control, superhuman strength, mana manipulation as part of my very body… I could already imagine the infinite possibilities. The paths to power in this world weren't just roads—they were entire worlds stacked on top of each other. And once I awakened, I would finally step into that world.
While I was lost in those thoughts, someone knocked on my door.
"Come in," I said after turning my head toward it.
A maid entered respectfully, bowing slightly as she stepped inside. "Young master, breakfast is ready. Would you like to eat in your room or downstairs? The young lady has already been informed. The matriarch also said she will not be able to attend breakfast today as she is finishing her duties. She will join your training later."
I sat up properly as I listened, my mind shifting away from fantasy and back to reality.
"I understand," I replied. "I'll have breakfast with my sister. After I wash and change, I'll come down. Tell her if she's hungry, she can start eating without waiting for me. I'll be there soon."
"As you wish, young master," she said, bowing again. "I will relay the message."
"You may go."
She stepped back, bowed once more, and left the room quietly, closing the door behind her.
The moment she was gone, I moved quickly.
I got up, washed my face, brushed my teeth, and took a proper bath. The cold water helped clear my mind, grounding me from the endless thoughts about power and awakening. I chose simple, comfortable clothes—nothing too heavy, nothing restrictive. If I was going to start training seriously, I needed freedom of movement more than anything else.
After getting ready, I headed downstairs.
The mansion was calm in the morning light. The air smelled faintly of prepared food and polished wood. As I reached the dining area, I saw Amy already waiting for me.
She looked up the moment I entered and smiled.
"Good morning, Gray! Are you ready for your training?"
I returned her smile immediately. "Good morning, Amy. Yeah… I think I'm ready. Or at least I hope I can handle it."
I scratched the back of my head awkwardly as I sat down.
Amy tilted her head slightly, studying me with a knowing look. "Don't worry. I know you can do it. Mother is personally training you today. She won't make things too easy, but she also won't break you… probably."
"Probably?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow.
She just grinned in response.
I exhaled slowly and picked up my utensils. "Honestly, I'm mentally preparing for the worst."
"That's smart," she replied. "Training under her is not something people survive by being unprepared."
We both began eating.
The food was warm and fresh, but my mind kept drifting back to what was waiting for me after this—training. Real training. Not play, not imagination. Something that would shape my future.
After a few bites, Amy suddenly spoke again.
"So… what kind of weapon are you planning to use, Gray? I assume you're not going to be a mage?"
That question immediately caught my attention.
I swallowed my food before answering. "Yeah, I'm not planning to be a mage. At least not purely. It depends on what element I get during awakening. That decides a lot of things."
Amy nodded. "Mage paths are boring anyway. Too much sitting, chanting, and controlling mana circles."
"It's not exactly boring," I said slowly, "but it's not what I want either."
She shrugged. "Same thing."
I sighed lightly but continued. "I want to first test what I'm good at. I'll feel the weapons, try them out. I don't think I'll go for archery or heavy weapons like greatswords. Daggers… I don't like them much either."
Amy leaned forward slightly. "So what does that leave you with?"
"A sword," I said without hesitation.
The answer came naturally, like it was already decided long ago.
"I tested it a bit before," I continued. "I think I have some talent for it. If it works out, I'll go with swordsmanship. If not… I'll ask Mother to guide me."
Amy nodded with clear approval. "Swords are the best choice. And Mother uses one too, so it's easier for you to get guidance."
"That's true," I agreed.
For a moment, we just continued eating in comfortable silence. The conversation shifted between small things—training routines, expectations, and Amy teasing me whenever she got the chance.
Eventually, both of us finished breakfast.
I pushed my chair back slightly. "I'm going to the training ground. Do you want to come with me?"
Amy blinked, surprised. "Now? Didn't you want to rest a bit?"
"No," I replied immediately. "If I rest, I'll get lazy. And once laziness catches up, I won't go."
She stared at me for a second, then smirked. "Oh? So you're aware of your own laziness now?"
I gave her a deadpan look. "Are you seriously calling me lazy? I think I'd believe a pig could fly before I believe you're diligent."
Amy gasped dramatically. "Excuse me?!"
I knew perfectly well that she was one of the most disciplined people I knew, but there was no way I was admitting that to her face.
She crossed her arms. "I'll go change into my training clothes. You go ahead and get familiar with the training ground."
"Fine," I said. "I'll see you there."
I waved and left the dining hall.
⸻
The training ground of the main estate was enormous.
As I stepped inside, I immediately felt the difference in atmosphere. It wasn't just a yard—it was a fully equipped battlefield for training. There were rows of training dummies, weapon racks filled with swords, spears, bows, and blunt weapons. Weighted equipment lay neatly organized in sections. A long running track circled the outer edge, and sparring zones were marked across the wide open space.
It was overwhelming.
I walked slowly, taking everything in. Knights were already training in groups, their movements sharp and disciplined. Their swords cut through the air in rhythmic patterns. Others were practicing endurance drills, running or lifting weighted stones.
Before coming here, I had already informed Mother that I would be visiting the training ground. I had also told her I would wait for Amy, or observe training until she was free. She had acknowledged it without objection.
Still, I didn't expect it to be this intense.
As I continued walking, I noticed something important.
This section wasn't just for knights.
There was a separate, more refined area deeper inside—the exclusive training ground for the main family.
I instinctively moved toward it.
But before I could go further, a guard stepped in front of me.
"Hey," he said sharply. "Where do you think you're going?"
I stopped.
He crossed his arms, looking down at me. "I'll let it slide since you look curious, but this isn't a place for kids. Turn around before I kick you out myself."
I blinked once, slightly surprised at how suddenly he appeared.
Before I could even respond properly, he continued.
"I don't have time to deal with games."
I took a breath and steadied myself. "My mother told me I'm being personally trained here. Please move aside."
The guard snorted. "Your mother? Kid, do you think this is a playground? Go home."
I opened my mouth to explain further—but he didn't let me finish.
He reached forward and grabbed my collar.
That was the moment everything changed.
A cold voice cut through the air.
"Stop."
The single word carried absolute authority.
The guard froze mid-motion.
His hand stopped inches away from me, as if the air itself had turned solid.
I turned my head slowly toward the source of the voice.
My mother stood there.
Her expression was calm—but completely devoid of warmth. It wasn't anger. It was something far more terrifying.
Cold judgment.
She walked forward slowly, each step silent but heavy in meaning. The guard immediately released his grip and straightened up, panic flashing across his face.
My mother stopped beside me and looked down slightly.
"Are you alright?" she asked.
Her voice was gentle—but the pressure behind it hadn't disappeared.