**Chapter 10: The Victor's Prize**
The training ground sand crunched underfoot as Dorian Veyne pushed himself up from the dirt, his face a mask of humiliation. The once-boisterous crowd had fallen into stunned silence after Ethan's single-spell victory.
Ethan gazed down at the disheveled third-year. "The gold," he said simply.
Dorian's hands clenched into fists. "That wasn't a real fight! I wasn't ready for magic!" His voice cracked with barely contained rage.
Around them, students exchanged glances. Even Professor Dain stood motionless, his usual barking commands forgotten.
"Then you shouldn't have challenged a mage," Ethan replied, his tone as calm as still water. He extended his palm. "500 gold. Unless the Veyne name means nothing."
A muscle twitched in Dorian's jaw. For a heartbeat, it seemed he might refuse—might even attack again despite the consequences.
Then the crowd parted like wheat before a scythe.
Lirien Veyne moved with predatory grace, her silver-threaded robes whispering across the training grounds. Without a word, she tossed a heavy leather pouch at Ethan's feet. The clink of coins was obscenely loud in the silence.
"Take your winnings, Gale," she said, her voice cool as mountain springwater. "My cousin forgets himself."
Dorian whirled on her. "Lirien—"
"Enough." A single glance from her silver eyes silenced him. "You've embarrassed our house enough for one day."
Ethan scooped up the pouch, weighing it in his hand. The sum was correct—possibly more. He met Lirien's gaze evenly.
"No rematch," he said before she could speak.
Her lips curved in something that wasn't quite a smile. "We'll see."
As she led Dorian away, the training grounds erupted in excited chatter. Ethan ignored the stares and whispers, tucking the gold into his robe. He had more important matters to attend to.
---
### **The Path of Steel**
The academy library's first floor smelled of dust and old parchment. Ethan moved past rows of basic spell manuals to the lesser-used knight training section. The System's interface flickered helpfully:
**[Knight Cultivation Manuals Located]**
**[Recommended: "Foundations of Body Tempering" by Sir Galen]**
The book was exactly where it should be, its leather binding worn smooth by generations of aspiring knights. Ethan flipped through the pages, absorbing the basic stances and breathing techniques. Unlike magic, knight cultivation focused on strengthening the physical vessel through rigorous training and meditation.
**[Manual Analysis Complete]**
**[Basic Knight Cultivation Techniques Acquired]**
**[Estimated Vessel Stabilization Rate: +2% per day with proper training]**
It wasn't much, but it was a start. As Ethan turned to leave, a voice spoke from the shadows between shelves:
"Never took you for the knightly type."
Professor Dain leaned against a bookcase, his scarred arms crossed. The combat instructor studied Ethan with an unreadable expression.
Ethan closed the manual. "Just expanding my knowledge."
Dain snorted. "That spell you used today... that wasn't standard curriculum."
"No."
For a long moment, the only sound was the distant scratching of a scholar's quill. Then Dain pushed off the bookcase.
"Dawn tomorrow. East training yard. Don't be late."
Before Ethan could respond, the professor was gone, his heavy boots echoing down the stone corridor.
---
### **The Golden Price**
Back in his dorm, Ethan emptied the coin pouch onto his bed. The gold glittered in the lamplight—more wealth than he'd ever held in either of his lives.
**[Wealth Acquired: 500 Gold Crowns]**
**[Estimated Academy Tuition: 200 Gold/Year]**
The System's calculations scrolled past as Ethan practiced the first knight breathing technique from the manual. Already he could feel the difference—his strained meridians relaxing slightly as physical energy balanced the magical.
Outside his window, the twin moons cast their glow over the sleeping academy. Somewhere in the darkness, Lirien Veyne was plotting. Dorian was nursing his wounded pride. Professor Dain was... whatever grizzled veterans did at night.
Ethan exhaled slowly, watching as his breath swirled with faint golden motes in the moonlight.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges.
But tonight? Tonight he trained.
---