In a well-decorated room.
Standing before a crackling fireplace, using the flas as a dramatic backdrop, Saya gestured passionately as he addressed the dozen or so people gathered around him.
"Becoming a mid-tier apprentice is only the first step. We must push ourselves harder. A brighter future still awaits us!"
The crowd echoed enthusiastically, "Yes!"
Seeing this, Saya nodded with satisfaction. He felt proud of the foundation he had built. His ti and effort over the past three years hadn't been wasted.
Not only had he successfully advanced to a mid-tier apprentice during that ti, but he had also gathered a group of talented newcors and ford a faction with himself at its core.
This made him one of the few new students who had truly made a na for himself. He might not walk with a literal air of dominance, but within the circle of apprentices, he was undoubtedly soone of stature.
And for soone like Saya, a prince by birth, appearances mattered as much as breathing. Death might be acceptable, but losing dignity was not.
Given that they were all still under ten years old and excessive drinking might affect their developnt, he picked up the fruit punch the maid had prepared ahead of ti and declared grandly to his companions, "I've prepared so excellent food today. Let's make sure to enjoy ourselves to the fullest!"
And so, the fun began.
Though this group had matured early due to their education and training, when it ca to gas and playti, they were still children at heart.
Especially since their daily lives were filled with rigorous study of arcane knowledge, this rare chance to relax was not sothing they'd let slip by.
As the festivities died down and the group lay sprawled out, full and resting contentedly, Charles picked up a piece of cake, took a bite, and walked over to the balcony. Looking out with Saya by his side, he asked, "What's your next move?"
After three years of recuperation and study, Charles had long shed his forr frailty.
Though he still looked youthful, years of knightly body training had given him a physique far superior to that of his peers.
He wasn't bulging with muscles, but his fra was lean and well-proportioned.
More importantly, the trials he had endured had instilled in him a quiet resolve and resilience. He had, in many ways, been reborn—no longer the sa person from back then.
Hearing Charles' question, Saya smiled. "At the mont, I don't really have a next step in mind. After all, any so-called 'plans' we apprentices make are ultimately aid at one goal—becoming a formal wizard. I haven't figured out how to advance to a senior apprentice yet, so for now I'll just take things one step at a ti."
Charles nodded, having nothing more to suggest. "That's probably for the best."
Looking at Charles' serious expression, Saya chuckled softly. "You've changed so much these past three years. I never expected you to co this far."
He felt a twinge of emotion as he spoke. He had watched Charles grow, little by little.
The persistence and determination Charles had shown had truly moved him. What began as rely recruiting a subordinate had evolved—Saya now saw Charles as his one true friend.
Charles scratched his head with an embarrassed grin.
Even he hadn't expected to co this far.
Perhaps this was the power of having a role model…
Though, he had never said it out loud, he had always viewed Saya as his role model.
He rembered a conversation he had once had with Saya—one that left a deep impression:
"Subordinates and friends are two entirely different things.
One must never live solely for another person's dream.
Unless forced, you must define your own reason for living...
If soone stands in the way of your dream, even if it's yourself, you must go all out to overco them.
To , a friend is soone who stands as your equal."
Maybe, in Saya's eyes, soone like Charles—who had no personal dream and only sought to help him achieve his goal—didn't qualify as a real friend.
Perhaps, with nothing but admiration driving him, Charles had rely been a puppet following behind a brighter figure, lacking the equality that defined true friendship.
After so deep thought, Charles ca to a painful realization:
He wasn't worthy of being called a friend.
This wasn't the first ti he'd wondered whether he had any dream of his own…
Unaware of the complex thoughts swirling in Charles' mind, Saya—having long forgotten the philosophical speech he once casually gave—assud Charles was simply pondering sothing.
With a smile, he said, "I know your knight training has hit a bottleneck. Co with to the study—I've got a gift I think you'll like."
He enthusiastically led Charles to his study.
As both a prince and a wizard-in-training, Saya regularly received generous funding and resources from his royal father. This support allowed him not only to live well at the academy but also to assist many struggling new students, helping him earn loyalty and admiration.
Once inside his large study, he opened a hidden compartnt in the wall and retrieved a finely crafted wooden box.
With a proud expression, he said, "This is a rare treasure. It should've been sealed away in the royal archives, but my father knew every wizard must train in knightly body arts. Worried about my progress, he had a copy specially made for ."
Charles, curiosity piqued, pushed aside his previous thoughts and stared at the box.
What kind of secret technique would be so valued that even an ancient royal family would treat it with such caution?
Saya solemnly opened the box and revealed a beautifully bound book.
"This is a unique knightly body-training technique that's only recently spread in the outside world. It's capable of strengthening fragile joints and purging bad blood from within. It's a top-tier, secret martial art."
Charles took the book with care, flipping it open with serious intent.
Inside were illustrated pages featuring a bizarre-looking bear performing strange movents.
As Charles studied the book, he noticed that the bear's muscle groups and movent patterns were ticulously illustrated, as though the creature was demonstrating the techniques right before his eyes.
Gradually, he realized—this wasn't just a curiosity; it was a high-grade physical technique adapted for human use.
Almost instinctively, he began to mimic the movents.
Before long, he had to stop, gasping for breath.
His body wasn't yet strong enough; so of the movents were beyond his current capability.
Even so, he could clearly feel a surge of vitality coursing through him—this technique was incredibly beneficial to the body.
Excited, he turned to Saya. "This is a high-level secret art I've never encountered before. Its effects are incredible! No wonder your father was so careful with it. We must keep it secret at all costs."
Saya just smiled and waved dismissively, signaling Charles to calm down.
"I understand how valuable it is. But don't worry too much—this is only one-twelfth of the full version. With the Glens royal family shielding it from prying eyes, we won't face much risk."
"One-twelfth?" Charles exclaid. "Then the complete version must be beyond imagination! Do you know what this technique is called?"
"I've no idea how powerful the full version really is. The story goes that these books were initially circulated as ordinary picture albums. One day, a knight noticed sothing unusual, and that's when all the major powers began fighting over them. Since then, the collection has been scattered and never reassembled."
"The na and creator are written on the last page. Apparently, the author was a mysterious wandering artist."
Charles turned to the final page of the book and saw the title:
"By Orsaga: The Unnaable Fist of Form and Intent — The Black and White Iron-Eating Beast Volu."
"What a truly bizarre na…" he murmured in amazent.
_____
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