After a week of vacation and light administrative work, another week passed—and Arvind felt the pressure mounting. Time ticked loudly in his mind, each second scraping against his calm. A vague sense of unrest lingered deep inside.
Sitting at his desk, he called out to the system.
A holographic interface bloomed before his eyes. Without hesitation, he navigated to the Aetheron Knowledge section and clicked into History. Instantly, a list of recommended books appeared—each one curated by the system. He scanned them quickly and purchased the entire list.
Ding. His coin balance plummeted to 200 Aetherion coins.
Arvind winced. Painful. But he gritted his teeth and dismissed the system window. Several thick books materialized on his desk.
He grabbed "The Primordial History of Aetheron" and dove in. The study fell into silence, save for the distant hum of servant activity outside.
"In ancient times, dragons were born favored by the world. Instinctively attuned to Aetherion, they quickly rose to dominance—establishing primitive empires. Though calling them 'empires' might be too generous… Dragons were territorial creatures, each acting like a god in their own lair."
Arvind raised a brow.
"Their arrogance grew unchecked. They wreaked havoc across the Aetheron Enclave—one of the most powerful clans beneath them. High-tier magical beasts became their mortal enemies, while intelligent races, including humans, were enslaved. The dragons demanded worship as divine beings. Humans, it's said, were the most devoted of all."
He nodded thoughtfully and flipped the page.
"Then, from the sky… something came. Survivors described it as a force capable of tearing the world apart. Countless dragons were buried, along with ancient magical beasts. Thus ended the Dragon Era."
That's it? Arvind frowned. He flipped the last page. "Finished? That's the entire account? Damn, system—can't you give me more?"
Frustrated, he grabbed another book: "The Great Human Civilization", authored by the first king of an ancient southern kingdom.
"In the early days, humans lived like frightened prey—hiding in caves, venturing out only to feed. They worshipped anything remotely divine… even stones. The world was saturated with magical beasts and Aetherion-rich flora. Humans were ordinary. Weak."
The tale shifted. Arvind's interest piqued.
"Then came the Flamebearer—a man chosen by the gods. He didn't walk alone. He carried the mission of all failed pioneers before him: to unlock a path for humanity to wield Aetherion."
During a hunting expedition, the Flamebearer encountered a goblin.
"Back then, goblins were barbaric—not the cunning beasts of today. But the sight shattered his belief that only beasts and gods could wield power."
This marked the turning point.
"After countless failures, the Flamebearer invented the Knight Path. Through fighting spirit—a refined form of Aetherion drawn from food and tempered by training and willpower—humans took their first step toward becoming Aetheric."
Arvind paused. The book began praising the Flamebearer endlessly—noble bloodlines, glory, divine approval. He skimmed through the flattery.
The final chapter caught his attention again.
"The dragons vanished. Human empires rose in their place. Millennia passed. The Knight Path flourished, and humans rose to the top of the food chain. Eventually, the great human empire splintered into three powers."
Arvind leaned forward.
The Kingdom of Karnhelm was part of the Knight Empire influence. Nearby stood the kingdom under Mage Empire—rivals locked in war every hundred years. The third? A theocratic empire governed by a multi-pantheon religion.
But then something made Arvind squint.
The system books praised the Knight Empire to the skies… But some facts didn't add up. Discrepancies…
"Man, don't take the reader for a fool," Arvind muttered, tossing the book aside.
He slumped back in his chair, deep in thought. So humanity came from humiliation… and rose to dominance. But even then, it's Aetheric potential that decides a kingdom's fate.
His jaw clenched.
If I don't train, if I stay weak, Ravengarde will always be prey to giants. I'll just be a pawn—my people, sacrifices in a game they never chose.
His father's voice echoed in his mind:
"This coming decade will be soaked in blood."
The words rang like a bell in his bones. His father had seen something. And if he was right, then Arvind wouldn't just be caught in a storm—he would be swallowed whole.
Determined, he picked up a history book about the kingdom he lived.
But as he read deeper, his hands began to shake.
"A level 6 beast can destroy a barony with a single strike—shattering ley lines and ripping the land apart."
It said that entire kingdoms had been destroyed during the great war—when King Arthur, alongside Arvind's Hale ancestors, battled against a magical beast tide.
"Damn…" Arvind broke into a cold sweat. He flung the book back onto the desk.
A level 6 beast is like a walking nuclear bomb.
Even Aldric at level 2 was powerful—but this? This was something else entirely.
Just as Arvind slumped in his chair, lost in turbulent thoughts, the door creaked open.
Anika entered, her brows knit with concern.
"My lord, don't just bury yourself in books. If you're bored, help Faelan and the others with governance. There's never been a noble who became great through reading alone."
Arvind sighed and forced a smile.
"Alright, Mother. I only read for a couple of hours."
Anika raised an eyebrow and pointed calmly toward the window.
"Then look outside—do you see a moon or a sun hanging over the horizon?"
Arvind scratched the back of his head sheepishly. Seriously? Has the day already passed? He swore it felt like just a few minutes had slipped by. But recalling what he'd read—especially about level 6 beasts—he felt an urgency rising in his bones.
He stood, hiding his restlessness beneath a composed face.
"I'm heading out. Sort the books for me, will you?"
Anika nodded and busied herself with the shelves as Arvind stepped outside.
Slap.
He smacked his forehead. Why did I forget? There's also the System Dad… But that module's still locked. He exhaled. Let time do its job. One day, it'll open. This is Aetheron—anything is possible.
Near the training fields, the air buzzed with shouts.
"Two! Three! Come on, more force!"
New recruits hauled massive stone weights across the open ground, sweat pouring as they strained forward. The loads were almost as large as them—and yet they kept going.
Arvind's awe deepened. Even those who haven't awakened as Aetherics can carry this much…
No. I can't fall behind.
He nodded to supervising knights and walked deeper into the camp. On his way, several knights greeted him, their gazes lingering longer than usual. Could it be…?
Further in, his eyes caught the familiar figure of Aldric swinging his sword. Each motion was smooth, calculated—an art form with weight and power. The sword arcs shimmered with visible force.
Arvind watched in silence, captivated. So this is the standard I must rise to…
The echoes of history—and the consequences of weakness—pounded in his chest.
He stepped forward.
"Have you caught up?" Aldric wiped sweat from his brow as three junior-ranked knights nodded in unison. Then he turned—and spotted Arvind.
"My lord? Has the sun started rising from the west?" he chuckled. "I thought the Baron of Ravengarde had forgotten that he owned a sword. Perhaps governance kidnapped him?"
Arvind waved his hands too quickly, then realized his fluster and steadied himself. With a sheepish grin, he replied,
"Mmm… don't laugh, but the Flamebearer scolded me in a dream. I couldn't bear to ignore our great ancestor's expectations. So… here I am. Aldric, would you be my instructor?"
His voice trembled ever so slightly. His mind screamed to flee. This is crazy, isn't it? But the books and history echoed too loudly. This was real.
Aldric blinked. He examined Arvind's face carefully—twice. Then he nodded slowly.
"You're serious?"
"I am."
"Then listen carefully. I won't be merciful. You may regret it."
Arvind let out a breath of relief. Good. I didn't back down. He nodded firmly.
Aldric chuckled, but his tone turned sharp.
"Then we begin now."
He turned to the junior knights.
"You three—continue your training. Follow everything I instructed earlier. Don't skip the breathing exercises afterward."
The knights nodded but couldn't help glancing at Arvind. Their lord, coming to train under Aldric?
Training began immediately.
Arvind strapped a massive weighted stone onto his back—twice the weight used by recruits—and began running laps around the field. With every step, his muscles screamed. Sweat poured like rain. His body begged to stop.
"Come on. First, strengthen your body. No shortcuts," Aldric's calm voice rang out.
Arvind clenched his teeth and forced himself forward.
One lap. Two. Three.
His legs trembled. His vision blurred. Aldric watched quietly, noting the effort. Maybe… just maybe… he's truly made up his mind.
A rare smile bloomed on Aldric's face—so rare that even the two knights watching were surprised. They looked at Arvind again. This is our lord?
The knights exchanged a glance and nodded to themselves. We were just praying to Dues for help making our breakthroughs… but he's setting the example. How could we fall behind?
If they were still in Silverhold City, they'd probably be swarmed by noble ladies—especially now that they'd broken into the junior knight ranks. But their lord? His future stood far above theirs.
Arvind continued.
He swung the training sword again. Again. Again.
His hands blistered. His arms trembled. He couldn't remember how many swings he'd done. Just one more. One more—
CRACK.
His foot landed on a hidden rubble stone.
"Ugh!"
He stumbled and fell. The pain in his shin made him want to scream.
He gritted his teeth, grabbed the sword, and forced himself to his feet, leg bleeding.
He looked up.
Aldric's emotionless eyes met his. This damn instructor! Can't he be gentle? I'm still his lord!
Aldric simply said,
"Good grit. But not enough. You're still far behind your peers."
Arvind glared, eyes full of silent daggers.
Aldric didn't flinch. His voice remained firm.
"Remember—knight training isn't a sprint. It's about discipline. Even when your body turns against you, your will must not bend."
Without resting, Arvind sat cross-legged in the training field, closing his eyes as he began his breathing technique. Strands of fighting spirit slowly flowed into his torn muscles, knitting tiny wounds and washing over his body with a cool sensation. Once upon a time, this feeling was addicting.
But reality slapped him hard.
He'd been training since childhood… and still hadn't condensed a core. The first true step into becoming a junior knight.
"Those earlier exercises broke through your physical limits," Aldric said evenly, observing him. "But remember, my lord—we're Aetherics. We handle an untamed force that devours the weak. Breathing techniques convert trace raw Aetherion—like what was in your dinner—into usable fighting spirit. That's why we need a body like a giant's. Otherwise, it'll tear you apart."
Nearby, the three junior-ranked knights approached, watching their lord silently endure the process. The blond knight spoke first.
"My lord, you've already overcome the first wall. So many pray for this chance but never make it here."
The others nodded in agreement. They remembered the ones left behind during their own training—friends who cried, begged, or were cast aside simply because they couldn't touch Aetheric energy.
Arvind didn't respond. His mind was locked in the battle with pain and exhaustion. He kept circulating his fighting spirit until, finally, he exhaled and wiped the sweat from his brow.
Aldric watched in silence, a quiet respect blooming in his heart. He's taken his first step… but the path ahead is paved in blood and iron.
Once rested, Arvind looked up at Aldric and said calmly,
"Aldric, I'm appointing you as commander of all knights and recruits. You'll answer to no one but me."
Aldric stiffened. His usually steady hands trembled slightly. Arvind noticed. The man who once doubted me… surprised, are you?
He smiled.
"I'm not asking for a favor. I'm just expecting you to be more responsible."
Aldric nodded slowly, this time as a subordinate acknowledging his lord.
"Are there any Aetheric Seeds among the new recruits?" Arvind asked next.
Aldric hesitated, scratching his beard.
"Two… maybe three or four. I haven't checked properly. Let them train first—we'll know soon enough."
Arvind raised an eyebrow. Don't bluff me. But he let it go. His arm strength had grown—something worth celebrating. But… would the castle's food reserve last long under this pace?
He sighed.
"Alright. I leave my precious forces in your care."
Then, after a pause:
"Also, there are still villages nearby who don't even know who their lord is. Take a squad of knights, visit them, and eliminate any beasts on the way. Bring their leaders here. And Aldric—calm your temper."
Aldric nodded firmly, this time bowing with visible discipline.
"Don't worry, my lord. Leave it to us. If anyone resists, I'll make sure they see clearly who they're dealing with."
Arvind groaned internally. He didn't understand the part about calming down… but whatever.
---
Back at the castle, Arvind soaked in a steaming bath, allowing the heat to melt the soreness from his muscles. Weeks had passed since this routine began. The governance of the territory had shifted significantly.
Bramir and his son… are they truly trustworthy?
He shook his head. Let time answer that.
At least they'd gotten their dream—becoming officials under his banner. That alone was something to acknowledge.
When the ache in his limbs faded, Arvind stepped out and made his way down the stone stairs. As he descended, a sour stench struck his nose. He winced and nodded toward the dungeon supervisor.
"Still haven't had time to clean the dungeon, have we?"
Inside, the once-proud warrior sat slumped in a corner—lifeless. His aura, once fiery, now flickered like a dying flame. Arvind's doubt crept in again.
Was I wrong to offer kindness?
He stepped forward.
"Your siblings are being provided for. They won't starve. They only want their big brother to come back."
No response.
"If you become my subordinate, I'll protect you and them. If I eat meat—you eat meat too."
It wasn't pride or empty words—it was a promise rooted deep in Arvind's own soul. Ever since he was reborn into this world, he'd longed for one thing: safety, peace, and a family to share it with.
But the warrior remained still, as if deaf.
Arvind sighed. My kindness met with stone once again.
As his footsteps faded into the distance, the warrior finally looked up. His eyes… flickered.
---
Later, at lunch, Arvind chewed quietly, but the guilt clung to him. I feel like I owe that warrior something… but I can't do whatever I want. I'm not a child noble anymore.
Tearing a piece of bread, Anika's voice echoed in his memory.
"My lord, everyone in Ashford—both the townfolk and those who came with us—they're starting to believe in you. They talk about you like you're one of them."
Her eyes had glowed with admiration as she said it.
"I can't explain it, my lord… but you've grown. May our Mother bless you among the stars."
Anika had been raised under his mother's care—protected from the world's darker sides. Now she looked at Arvind with a radiant smile, happy at the transformation unfolding before her eyes.
Anika stood nearby, quiet and radiant. Her slender figure moved gracefully beneath the candlelight, blue eyes calm yet curious. Her long, straight hair draped over her shoulders, and her snow-white skin gave her the ethereal beauty of an elven maiden. No matter how one looked at her, she was dazzling.
But her low status dimmed that charm in the eyes of the world.
Not in Arvind's.
Even so, he didn't allow himself to linger. He didn't have the energy to be distracted.
His thoughts turned to the high-yield crop the system had rewarded him earlier—a critical asset with winter looming. Snow would soon blanket the land, and with mysterious wolf packs still prowling nearby, going outside to trade or buy was like shooting oneself in the foot.
Bramir had been entrusted with managing it. If he fails… he'll have to be removed. You can't fatten a pig that only knows how to eat. Harsh, but there was no room for mercy now.
As Arvind's mind spiraled through plans, he realized just how many holes still existed. Ashford and the nearby villages lacked proper fortifications. Their resources were already stretched thin. If nothing changes, they'll be food for the wolves.
A cold shudder ran through him. He clenched his fists to still the rising dread.
Then, like a flicker of light, his mother's words whispered in his memory:
"Live life with hope. Face problems head-on."
Later that day, he visited the newly reclaimed wheat fields.
Farmers were already hard at work, planting under the cold sun. He approached, quietly observing. Sure enough—it was the high-yield wheat. Its shoots were strong and healthy, a lifeline for their coming hardship.
Just as he turned to leave, he overheard soft whispers between two farmers.
"Mother Earth… what kind of wheat is this? Did our lord get this from the interior of the kingdom?"
"No… how could people in the capital survive? Elder was right—outside this land, the world's full of leeches ready to eat you alive."
Despite their uncertainty, they moved carefully, planting each bud with reverence.
Arvind smiled. They said 'my lord' with pride. That means something… my efforts aren't wasted.
On his walk back, he passed by a townsperson. The man straightened up and bowed deeply.
"My lord."
Before the man could say more, Arvind gently cut in, nodding in return, but walking on.
Behind him, the farmer watched his back with admiration.
This lord… he's not like the one before.
Yet even as he walked through their gazes of respect and hope, the shadow of magical beast tides loomed in his thoughts. He thought of Anika's optimism, of Shankar's dependability, of the townsfolk giving everything just to plant another seed.
So many now depended on him.
He clenched his fists once more and looked to the distant hills in silence.
---
That night, just before sleep claimed him, a warm vision came into his mind—his younger sister. Perhaps now a proud baroness in her own peaceful land. She was safe, shielded by the power of their father's influence.
And he… he had no regrets about choosing this path.
Wait for me. I'll become a dragon.
Silence returned to the room.
And so ended another day in the rising land of Ravengarde.