Looking at Stark's excited expression, Shane was montarily at a loss for words.
"Kid, don't be so anxious. You're still your master's only disciple."
"Who are you calling a kid? You don't look that much older than ."
"..."
Stark studied Shane carefully, a trace of wariness in his eyes. The thought that his master might take on another disciple because he had run away filled him with unease. And the person in front of him—Shane—was handso, polite in both speech and manner…
'Master wouldn't really abandon … would he?'
Seeing Stark's expression, Shane found it sowhat amusing.
A brat going through puberty—always saying one thing and aning another, trying to act deep.
"Relax. You'll always be his only precious disciple. Otherwise, why would he go out of his way to have bring you your favorite dessert?"
Hearing that, Stark glanced at the dessert, still a little doubtful.
"Master… he's really not angry anymore?"
"At the very least, he's never said he was angry with you. On the contrary, every ti he talks about you, Eisen smiles kindly. He especially likes telling stories about how you used to sneak snacks and refuse to eat properly."
"...I eat properly now. I don't sneak snacks anymore."
"He said your favorite is this giant strawberry ice cream. He insisted I find a way to bring it to you."
As he spoke, Shane pressed the dessert into Stark's hands.
Stark froze for a mont. Holding the ice cream in one hand and the spoon in the other, his expression gradually softened.
He raised the spoon, scooped a full bite, and put it into his mouth. The cold sweetness slid down his throat, calming him slightly, and his tone toward Shane lost its earlier defensiveness.
"Sounds like… you really know Master well…"
Shane smiled. "Of course. He even asked to take good care of you in the future."
"I already told you—I'm a coward. I can't go on adventures."
Hearing Stark repeat his self-denial, Shane stopped and looked at him carefully.
Under that gaze, Stark felt uneasy, as if he were being seen through.
"You're not a coward."
Shane's voice wasn't loud, but it was firm.
That simple sentence made Stark stop mid-bite. The cream lted on the spoon and dripped down the back of his hand.
"What do you know—"
"You have nightmares every night. You wake up crying every ti."
Shane cut him off before he could continue putting himself down.
"Eisen said you never talk about your past. You don't want to face monsters, and you don't want to fight anymore… because you don't want to relive that day when you were powerless."
"Stark, you're running away."
Plop.
A large chunk of strawberry ice cream lted and fell to the ground.
The white cream instantly picked up sand and dust, losing its clean, soft appearance.
Shane looked at the fallen ice cream, his voice suddenly low and resonant.
"Stark, real courage isn't about being fearless. It's about stepping forward even when your legs are shaking with fear."
"Just like he did. Eisen believes that one day, you'll be able to do the sa."
Stark gripped the spoon, standing there in a daze, his earlier boldness gone.
Shane didn't rush him.
Whether words worked or not… they needed ti to settle.
With that thought, he stood up, patted Stark on the shoulder, and left with a smile.
After walking quite a distance, Shane glanced back. Stark was still sitting on the rock, completely motionless.
Rubbing his chin, Shane sighed.
Warriors really have such low ntal resistance?
The duration of the [Charm] effect is surprisingly long…
————
Stark remained where he was, thinking over Shane's words.
So Master wasn't angry at … that's great.
So Master always knew what I went through… he's been paying attention all along, just not saying it. What a stubborn old man.
So… I really am an important disciple to him.
Looking at the completely lted strawberry ice cream in his hand, now inedible, Stark suddenly smiled.
All the misunderstandings from before dissolved in an instant.
As he thought about it, a surge of emotion rose within him. He took a deep breath, picked up the battle axe beside him, and turned toward a canyon behind him.
Boom—
Master, even after running away, I've been training every day.
Boom—
The ground shook as the canyon expanded by over a hundred ters.
Clang—
The axe seed to strike sothing hard.
Stark stopped and walked closer. It was a pitch-black, round object about the size of a soup pot.
"What is this… so kind of ore? Or maybe an egg?"
Curious, he reached out and touched it.
In an instant, the black object shattered, releasing a faint black mist.
Stark reflexively closed his eyes and covered his mouth and nose. After a while, the mist slowly dispersed. He cautiously opened his eyes.
One glance—and he froze.
Before him was no longer the canyon he had carved out, but a village he knew all too well.
He had returned to his hotown—the Warrior Village.
"Stark, focus."
His brother's voice rang out beside him.
He stiffly turned his head. His brother, Stoltz, stood beside him, dressed in a pure white robe. In the Warrior Village, white robes were a symbol of pride—untainted white represented strength.
As he stood there in a daze, his brother crouched down and took his hand.
"Your posture is wrong. Use your wrist. Don't think about anything else—focus on the target in front of you."
As he moved, the pristine robe gradually beca stained with mud, spreading outward.
Stark watched the stains, his vision growing blurry.
"Brother… it's been a long ti."
"Hm?"
"Nothing… it's nothing."
Stark raised his small hand and wiped the tears from the corner of his eyes.
Then, following his brother's instructions precisely, he gripped the wooden sword and struck the wooden post in front of him with perfect accuracy.
Boom—
The post split cleanly in two.
Clap, clap, clap.
His brother applauded, eyes filled with approval.
Stark's heart swelled with excitent. The results of his years of training… he could finally show them to his brother.
"Brother, will I… be able to beco a warrior like you soday?"
His brother patted his head and smiled.
"Stark will beco an even greater warrior than ."
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