"Get up fast. Master Harold told me to wake you since your training begins in an hour."
The middle-aged maid yanked Edoran's blanket off with a scornful glare.
'I can't believe I have to tend to this homunculus brat. I've served the Faulkner family for two decades and this is what I get?'
Edoran felt the resentment radiating off her but said nothing.
'There is no point in making a scene out of this.'
He took a quick shower and got dressed and made his way to the hall.
Harold stood there, hands behind his back, facing two unfamiliar men.
One of them stood out immediately with his tall and thin stature, with long blue hair draped over one side and the other side completely shaved. His sharp features made him look like a noble fallen from grace.
He held a blue briefcase lazily behind his shoulder and scanned the hall like it bored him. His yawn echoed through the marble chamber.
The other was the complete opposite. A red-haired brute of a man with skin stretched tight over corded muscle. His shirt looked like it was about to burst apart at the seams. He was chatting with Harold excitedly.
(One of them looks half-dead. The other could snap your neck with a sneeze.)
"Ah, Edoran," Harold called, waving him over. "Come meet your new instructors."
The blue-haired man barely glanced at him.
The redhead offered a hand and a huge grin. "Name's Gary Gilmond. You've probably heard of the Gilmond Barter House? I'm the eldest son."
"I'm Shin," said the other, adjusting his suit.. "And no, I didn't get here because Daddy paid someone off."
Gary shot Shin a glare. "Really, man?"
Harold chuckled. "They've known each other a while. Don't mind the banter."
"They're both from Nova Star," he continued. "Gary will oversee your physical and combat training. Shin will guide you in mastering your savage transformations."
Shin sighed, bored. "We may look like clowns but I'm a tier-3 minor savage user. I've trained six others who broke past tier-2 in a year. Try to keep up."
"Gary here," Shin added, "once captured a tier-3 lesser savage using nothing but tier-2 strength. Alone. Idiot almost died, but he pulled it off."
Gary grinned. "It's called grit, my man."
"I'm starting first," Gary said, cracking his knuckles.
"Fine by me," Shin replied, stretching his arms. "Edoran—my class is tomorrow. Come hungry. I don't want you throwing up halfway through."
Wings emerged from his back, metallic blue and electric. He soared into the sky and left.
Gary rubbed his hands together. "Heh. Just you and me now."
Edoran gulped.
(You're not ready. He's going to break you.)
The collar reminded him.
'Weird dude.'
"Follow me to the grounds behind the house."
"Huh? Not the training room?"
"Nope. Real fights aren't clean. They aren't pretty. I prefer fresh air. And you won't fight your enemies in some tidy little box, will you?"
They stepped into the backfield. It was overgrown, cluttered with broken statues and rusty junk.
"Why is it such a mess?"
"You ask too many questions." Gary's expression darkened. "Power isn't enough. The most ruthless fighter wins. You fight to win. Not to survive. Not to be the best. Just to WIN."
Edoran sighed. Gary was going to be troublesome.
"First lesson: not how to hit. How to get hit."
Gary charged like a bull.
Edoran did not even comprehend Gary's words when a punch slammed into his gut and before he could get up completely, his legs were swept out from under him.
He hit the dirt hard. Dust clouded his vision.
"Lesson one," Gary said coldly. "Take the pain before you dish it out."
A boot came down—Edoran rolled just in time. It hit where his ribs had been.
He scrambled up, breath ragged. Gary didn't pause.
A brutal left hook. Edoran ducked.
He jabbed out, but it was weak, like tapping a stone wall. Gary didn't even flinch.
"Cute," Gary muttered.
Then came the knee, straight into Edoran's sternum.
He stumbled back, coughing, but another hit came, a backhand that sent him spinning into the dirt. His cheek stung, blood already forming.
"Get up. Again."
Groaning, Edoran forced himself upright. Legs shaky. Arms deadweight.
But he stood.
Gary approached slowly now, measuring him.
Edoran stepped back.
Too late.
An elbow crashed into his temple. Light exploded in his head. He collapsed again.
"That's three times you've gone down," Gary said, voice like gravel. "So much for being special."
Edoran wiped blood from his lip and spat into the grass.
Gary circled like a wolf.
Then he grabbed Edoran by the collar, lifting him. Edoran reacted, shoulder-checking him in the ribs.
Gary grunted. Didn't move.
"Better."
He hurled Edoran back like a ragdoll.
Edoran rolled, coughed, stood again.
This time his breath wasn't heavy from exhaustion, it was fury.
"Come on," Gary taunted. "Fight me like a man."
Edoran roared and charged.
His strikes were wild. Right, cross, missed. Left jab, blocked. Another punch grazed Gary's jaw.
Gary smirked.
Then slammed his palm into Edoran's chest. Edoran flew back.
"Good. Use your anger."
Edoran planted his feet. Gritted his teeth. Focused.
This time, he approached with caution.
Feint.
Gary shifted but it was too late,
His jab landed on his gut.
Gary grunted. A spark of satisfaction bloomed in Edoran's chest.
But his celebration was too early. Gary's fist connected with Edoran's face. He flew back, and crashed into a rusted statue base. His back throbbed.
He slid to his knees as Gary loomed above.
"Still breathing, huh? You're more stubborn than you look."
Edoran didn't wait.
He lunged and tackled Gary.
They slammed into a broken bench. Wood cracked.
Gary elbowed him hard, but Edoran clung on.
They rolled, fists flying, dancing around with no technique, just raw rage.
Gary straddled him. Punched. Once. Twice.
Blood filled Edoran's mouth.
But he wasn't done.
He bit down on Gary's arm.
Gary yelped and recoiled.
Edoran struck fast. Uppercut. Then a wild hook.
Gary did not even stagger.
Edoran shoved him off and climbed to his feet, swaying. His whole body screamed.
But he stood.
Gary laughed.
A deep, almost joyous laugh.
"You're getting it now."
They raised their fists.
Gary lunged.
Edoran sidestepped, pivoted, and slammed a punch into Gary's lower back.
Gary hissed, turned around swinging like his fist like a battering ram.
Edoran ducked.
Crack.
His fist met his ribs. Edoran cried out.
Gary was grinning. Bloodied and wild-eyed.
"At last," he said, breathing hard. "You're learning."
The session ended.
The sun had long dipped past the treetops when Edoran slumped onto the old leather sofa inside the manor.
His arms throbbed. His ribs screamed. Even his breath felt heavy.
Gary had walked off like it was just a warm-up.
(Still alive? How disappointing. I expected you to pass out halfway.)
The collar taunted him.
Harold entered the room, swirling a glass of wine in hand, eyes sharp.
"You did well," he said. "Surprisingly well."
Edoran didn't respond. His bones were louder than words.
Harold sat across from him. "You'll need to recover fast. We're on a tight schedule."
Edoran furrowed his brow. "What schedule?"
Harold leaned forward, voice dropping. "In three months, Greenglow is holding a tournament."
"You will be participating in the tier-1 reverberators bracket."
Edoran's spine stiffened. "I'm participating?"
Harold gave a small nod. "You. Tobias. And Lily."
He raised three fingers. "You're the Faulkner Tier-1 representatives."
Edoran blinked. "They're fighting too?"
(Oh, look. You thought you were the chosen one.)
"Tobias has already begun training under a Nova Star strategist," Harold added. "His tactics are sharp."
"And Lily? She's refining her binding resonance technique. Far ahead in finesse."
(Meanwhile, you just learned how to fall down convincingly.)
Harold stood and walked toward the window. "This tournament isn't for sport."
"It's a marketplace. A stage. All the major families, syndicates, and mercenary houses will be watching."
"The winner gets a savage to kill. A tier-2 minor savage."
"Even the runners-up are scouted. This is the first real step out of the shadows."
Edoran's throat went dry. "So I'm not just fighting to prove myself."
"You're fighting for standing," Harold said. "For the Faulkner name. For your future."
(Correction. You're fighting to not be an embarrassment.)
The room fell quiet, save for the faint tick of the old grandfather clock.
Gary walked in shirtless, muscles still glistening from the brawl. "We start earlier day after tomorrow."
"No more warm-ups. You'll be eating dirt by sunrise."
"And let me give you a spoiler, Shin is bloody ruthless so be careful."
Harold smirked. "Sleep now, Edoran. You'll be earning your bruises again tomorrow."
As the door shut behind them, Edoran stared at the floor in silence.
(So... three months to rise. Three months to prove you're not just a mistake in flesh.)
(Or will you be the one they forget in round one?)
Edoran clenched his fists.
The collar chuckled darkly.
(Prove yourself, runt. Or die trying.)