*Timeskip for 2 years*
Two years after his brutal training with General Leonard, Alden had advanced significantly under his Royal Tutelage at Glayder Castle. His mana core reached at the bottleneck of dark yellow stage. Yellow stages was where refinement grew exponentially slower and more arduous than orange stages, testing his patience and discipline. Under Leonard's rigorous guidance, Alden unlocked gravity magic successfully, though the process also reshaped his body dramatically. Puberty and magical strain transformed the once-athletic boy into a muscular, broad-shouldered teenager, his physique almost comically robust for his ten years.
During these same two years, other heirs of Sapin's great military houses also awakened into mages. Bairon was later than Varay by a few months, Aliya Maxwell followed at nine, while Kaspian was last at ten.
By nine, the 4 kids too were dispatched to the Royal Tutelage at Glayder Castle—bound by duty to learn the foundations of rule: politics, economics, history, social hierarchy, diplomacy, marshals and the dratted etiquette lessons their noble parents demanded.
Alden shared those academic classes with them but trained apart. The children of the military houses honed their magic privately under the eyes of their own bloodline mentors. So Alden never crossed weapons and spells with them on the practice field.
Still, proximity bred familiarity. Alden played his part to perfection—a charming, quick-witted, friendly and humourous young lord who won Varay, Bairon and Kaspian over with swagger, jokes, insights and even kindness.
Alden used his fake charisma like a sharp tool to mask his calculated ambition.
Aliya, however, remained cool and distant. She spoke to him only when necessity forced it. Alden noted it, but gave it little weight. He'd already cultivated her father Leonard's respect and friendship, and in his ledger of alliances that was worth far more.
His strategy bore fruit.
Lord Ortis Wykes honored his promise. In return for Alden sharing firsthand accounts of dungeon diving to Bairon and even befriending him, Ortis himself requested the king's permission to help train Alden in lightning deviant. Each time he witnessed Alden's growth, Ortis couldn't deny but to praise the boy's prodigious talent—even as it twisted a coil of envy in his gut. He sometimes wondered whether it might be possible to draw Alden's bloodline into the Wykes through marriage, but a certain truth made that dream impossible, and unspoken.
Lord Gregor Aurae, meanwhile, couldn't hide his delight when Leonard let slip that Alden had unlocked gravity deviant. Gregor personally petitioned King Thane to train Alden to help him unlock ice deviant. Though Gregor was busy and time was limited, his lessons made certain process: Alden learned to manipulate the temperature of his water magic. He was perhaps 20% of the way to awakening the deviant, by Gregor's estimate—a remarkable pace given the scarce hours they could spare.
The king himself was pleased. Alden was growing stronger by days as a military and political weapon—a message to the elves and dwarves.
Master Blacksmith Jorvan finally completed a vast steel-fenced dome, giving the captured pregnant Deathblade Unicorn space to move around but also sturdy and limited enough to stop it from breaking out and escaping. In these new conditions—under the patient, consistent efforts of Alden's horse trainers—the unicorn's stress eased. It stopped thrashing and sulking and at last delivered a healthy male foal.
Alden returned home at once when the letter came. He inspected the result himself, noting the foal's bright eyes and vigorous legs. Satisfied, he ordered it separated from the mother, then spent hours alone in a stable room with the creature. He did not speak or threaten. He simply remained—always blocking the door, always intercepting attempts to flee.
At last, the exhausted foal butted him with its tiny blade-horn, giving a shallow bite that left a small scarred sigil symbol on Alden's hand. That was the mark of a Master-Servant Contract: not a pact between equals, but one of utter submission.
Being bonded to a mana beast means that one possesses a special connection to a certain mana beast. That special connection is through a contract.
There are two types of contracts: An Equals Contract or a Master-Servant Contract.
People who are able to communicate mentally with their contracted beasts have an Equals Contract(like between Arthur and Sylvie). An Equal's contract is a relationship based on mutual agreement while an Master-Servant Contract is a relationship based on obedience.
Alden couldn't mentally communicate with this Deathblade Unicorn but its obedience and loyalty stayed to him permanently, which was good enough for him.
After one month, the young Deathblade Unicorn grew rapidly, maturing enough to graze on grass and grain without the need for its mother's milk. As soon as it crossed that threshold, Alden gave the order: separate the mare from his new mount.
He killed the mother himself.
With a calm swing of a warhammer, he shattered the unicorn's skull—just as he had done to the Alpha Deathblade Unicorn a year prior. To Alden, it was a matter of practicality. The mare had served her purpose—birthing the foal, nursing it to strength. Now, keeping her alive would only waste coin, space, and food. She had no strategic value.
In truth, Alden considered himself fortunate. Had the foal been female, he would still have bonded with it, but he knew a female Deathblade Unicorn lacked the raw aggression and lasting endurance of a male. Males aged slower, fought harder, and served longer.
As the mare's corpse slumped to the ground, the stable fell into a heavy silence.
The servants and horse trainers who had spent a year taming and taking care of the wild pregnant unicorn stood frozen. Some had flinched at the killing blow. Others had turned away, jaws tight. They had watched over her since her capture—fed her, calmed her rages, clean her cage, wash her, whispered gently when she paced in stress or bled in labor. Some had grown quietly fond of her, forgetting perhaps what she was meant to become.
Not one of them dared speak.
Alden noticed. He said nothing as he calmly carved out the dead unicorn's corpse, looted her mana core, skin and horn to add to his personal stores.
Later that day, he summoned them all again—not to justify his actions, but to pay them.
Everyone of the staffs received a raise. A quiet one, without ceremony or praise. It was not framed as kindness, but compensation: a year of service fulfilled. A debt paid. But more accurately: a bribe for their silence.
And with coin in hand, their grief was quietly buried.
_____________________
When Alden turned 10, he joined in competition of the Continental Tournament, held every four years to showcase the talents of Dicathen's youth across human, elf, and dwarf kingdoms. This tournament also served as a way for the different races to show off their abilities and skills.
Each of the three kingdoms selected their most promising young talents to represent them in the upcoming Continental Tournament, sorting the competitors into two age-based categories: children between 10 and 14, and adolescents from 15 to 24.
In Sapin, King Thane's choice for the children's division came as no surprise.
Alden Valerius—quadra-elemental, lightning and gravity deviants, and a prodigy blessed by the deities and molded by Sapin's finest generals—was the obvious candidate. But the king's decision was not merely about selecting the strongest child. It was a declaration. A spectacle. A calculated message wrapped in ceremony and arrogance.
By sending Alden, Thane wasn't just fielding a competitor—he was flaunting the future trump card weapon of Sapin to the elves and the dwarves.
And in the silent corners of Thane's ambitions, the thought echoed like a blade unsheathed:
'Behold,Alden Valerius —the first and only quadra-elemental with multiple deviants in all recorded history of Dicathen. A mage unlike any your forests or mountains have birthed. And soon, when I place the artifact into his hand and elevate him to the strongest White Core of all time…. none of you will be able to stop what's coming.'
_____________________
The Continental Tournament was to be held in Xyrus City—a floating marvel of spires and mana-forged architecture, where the Grand Arena stood like a crown jewel amidst the clouds. Shaped like an enormous stone Colosseum(from Alden's old world), its polished white arches and silver runes gleamed under the sky, a fitting arena for the greatest young talents of the three races to showcase their prowess.
The representative memebers of children age category competition consisted of Alden Valerius, Varay Aurae, Bairon Wykes and Cassian Flamesworth.
Before departure, the selected child representatives of Sapin were summoned to Etistin, to join the royal Glayder convoy going through the capital's teleportation portal to Xyrus.
Alden showed up wearing a noble rope featured a long, black tunic with a high, ruffled collar and intricate gold embroidery along the front, forming a pattern of ornate medallions. A striking crimson red sash over the left shoulder, adding a bold contrast and a regal touch. The robe was cinched at the waist with a wide black belt adorned with a prominent gold buckle, enhancing its authoritative and elegant appearance. Upon the back of his tunic was embroidered the sigil of House Valerius—a silver sonic hawk mid-screech, wings flared as if to conquer the skies themselves.
Varay Aurae and Bairon Wykes stood nearby, speaking in low tones in some small talks with Alden. Both wore tailored military-style uniforms that bore the hallmarks of their noble houses. Varay's uniform was lined with a snow-white trim and subtle frost motifs near the shoulders, echoing House Aurae's ice cold affinity. Bairon's attire was sharper, darker, had the dull grey color with streaks of lightning insignia threaded along the sleeves that made him look like a walking thunderstorm, signifying house Wykes's powerful deviant.
Cassian Flamesworth, the fourth child and third son of his family (older brother of Jasmine Flamesworth), sported short, spiky hair in a light brown hue, mirroring the color of his mother, Lady Flamesworth, in contrast to his father, Lord Trodius Flamesworth's jet-black hair. His dark gray eyes and slightly tanned skin further reflected his mother's features. Cassian donned a military-style outfit, elevated with extravagant decorations, featuring colors and fire-element symbols that represented his family's name, Flamesworth.
Cassian was older than the rest 3 kids by 4 years, and he was currently studying as a combat mage student at Xyrus Academy.
As the carriage rolled to a stop and the liveried servants swung the doors open, Alden made a show of stepping back and pressing himself to the side.
Varay paused with one foot on the step, giving him a narrow-eyed look. "What are you doing?"
Alden swept into an exaggerated bow, one arm across his chest, voice dripping with solemn mock-formality:
"Ladies first."
Varay let out a tired exhale that was halfway to a laugh, shaking her head:
"Haiz… shush it."
She quickly schooled her features back to their usual calm, but a small, reluctant smile tugged at her mouth before she turned away and climbed in.
Alden straightened, flashing a triumphant grin at Bairon.
"Excellent. Now you too, Bairon."
Bairon's eyebrow twitched. His jaw worked soundlessly for a second. Then a small vein in his temple visibly popped.
"You're calling me a lady?!"
Alden's grin widened. "Well, you said it yourself, not me—AAAA—ACK!!"
Too late. Bairon had already grabbed him around the neck in a crushing headlock using his mana augmentation.
"MERCY! I SURRENDER!", Alden yelled in fake panic.
Ignoring the protests, Bairon hauled Alden up effortlessly despite the his friend's thickened muscular frame, turned, and launched him through the carriage door like a sack of potatoes.
Inside, Varay chuckled as Alden tumbled in, arms and legs flailing before he landed on the plush seats with a solid whump.
Bairon climbed in next with infuriating dignity, adjusting his uniform as if nothing had happened: "Can't believe I have to travel with this clown."
From behind them all, Cassian Flamesworth, who had been watching the entire scene with arms crossed, let out an exaggerated sigh and rolled his eyes.
"Children," he muttered under his breath before stepping into the carriage himself, pointedly ignoring the lot of them.
Alden caught his eye just before Cassian sat down and flashed an irrepressible grin.
"Welcome aboard, young lord Flamesworth. Don't worry. We're perfectly civilized in here."
Cassian just gave him a long, baleful stare, then looked away, settling into his seat with regal indifference.
The ride jolted once as the horses were led into position, but settled quickly as the convoy moved toward the portal.
Alden sat back, watching the city slowly drift by through the small window. He adjusted the crimson sash over his shoulder, then sat next to Varay and Bairon.
Immediately, Bairon's elbow dug into his side.
"For deities' sake! Lord Maxwell really 'padded' you up. Could you not take all the space? Maybe lose a muscle or two?" Bairon grumbled, shifting closer to Varay reclaim breathing room.
Varay jolted a little when Bairon's shoulder touched hers, but she calmed herself.
Alden flashed a grin, flexing an absurdly solid bicep right in Bairon's face. "I take this sculpted physique a badge of honor. Proof of my gravity deviant training. Besides—it helps me look very appealing to the ladies. Don't you agree?"
On the other hand, both Bairon and Varay showed their cringed faces. Yes, even Varay, who usually met his antics with patient silence, actually recoiled a bit, her expression pinched in uncharacteristic distaste.
"What? Getting jealous, Wykes boy?Afraid I'll steal your future fan girls?", Alden asked with a grin.
"Varay, please kill me quickly if this buffon is being serious.", Bairon asked for his other friend's help.
"Bairon...we both know that he will stop me just to keep you alive to suffer his posturing.", Varay sighed and shook her head.
"I hate that you are totally correct.", Bairon closed his eyes in tragic resignation.
Alden clutched at his chest in mock heartbreak. "Varay? You too? How can you both be so cruel?"
Varay pointed out: "You started this, Alden."
Alden sniffed dramatically: "First time we met, you two mocked my eyes, called them 'creepy.' Now I've improved myself—this fine muscular form! Easier to approach! More…presentable. And you still slander me."
"You called that an improvement?Hmm... A monster taking shape of a child with eyes of dead man and a muscular body like a gorilla to strangle its victims easily. That sounds like a good horror story for kids.", Bairon grinned with a heavy slander at Alden.
Varay lost it. She laughed out loud, the sound surprising even herself.
Alden narrowed his eyes and, with a flourish, summoned his magic wand from his dimension ring, pointing it at Bairon, his voice comically threatening:
"I hereby declare war on house Wykes and house Aurae for disrespecting my honor."
Bairon and Varay bursted into chuckles.
"I jest. I jest, my lord.", Bairon said sarcastically.
Cassian, perched stiffly in the far corner, cleared his throat loudly:
"Are you three quite finished with the childish theater? Or must I endure this for the entire journey?"
Alden's eyes gleamed with unholy glee. He slowly turned to Varay and Bairon with a devil's smirk, he had detected his next target.
Varay and Bairon sighed in resignation.
"Well, pardon me for the lousy bickering between the three of us, my lord. Truly untasteful of me to behave so in front of the prestigious young Flamesworth lord right here. Ah, deities curse me, where's my manner? Alden Valerius, an honor to meet you.", Alden gave out his hand for a handshake.
"Cassian Flamesworth. I heard all about your crazy fame and achievements, never expected in person you are like...this. Completely opposite to what ought to be from the public's praises huh?", Cassian's voice cold, didn't even bother to handshake with Alden.
"Well, I have no clues about what people regarded to my character, but I assure you that I am exactly who I am. Never meant to meet with the expectations of outsiders. Although I can say, my achievements are quite precise to the praises however, ehh...except the exaggerated ones.", Alden retracted his hand.
Cassian snorted. "Hmph. The only reason I don't slap that smug grin off your face for running that loud mouth is that I can't sense your core level. Blatantly honest speaking: I will be a dead man trying my luck with it. Which tells me you highly be as strong as they say. But I'll wait for the tournament to see if you live up to the reputation."
At that, Varay and Bairon went very still. Both of them turned slowly to stare at Cassian, their expressions cooling by several degrees.
Yes—they tolerated and teased Alden. But an outsider threatening him with insults? That was different.
Alden saw their tension. He held up a calming palm without looking away from Cassian, his own voice still calm and friendly:
"You gave some personal offensive words right there, my soon-to-be senior student of Xyrus Academy. I'm wondering if your lord father has anything to say about his failed education of his son's manner towards his allied houses."
"If you want to send letter crying your complaints to my dear father about me then be my guest. But add this down for me. A direct response from his son: Go.Fuck. Your.Self. Oldman.", Cassian spat.
".....", Alden, acting as if he was speechless, leened back to his seat.
Bairon let out a low whistle, controlling his anger and simply ignored the Flamesworth as he deemed not worthy of his energy for this guy. Varay's eyebrows however shot up.
"It appears that our lord Cassian Flamesworth here has no mood for polite conversation. I will respectfully leave him some private space.", Alden said before leaning to Bairon, whispering:
"Do you hate your father as much as this guy does?"
"Not enough to say it out loud to strangers.",Bairon answered back with a whisper as well.
Varay, her gaze still fixed on Cassian, spoke with a steady, tight voice:
"We're about to represent Sapin in front of the other kingdoms. Alden's way of socialization might be annoying, but he was trying to get to know you with all of his politeness. So that we can have some trust on each other. To work together. And we might even win."
"You say as if I give a half-shit about this tournament, young lady Aurae. You think I'm being excited to bring glory, honor, fame or other bullshits like so to gift my house?", Cassian replied casually.
Varay's eyes narrowed: "Then why are you even here? Why did you even accept if you don't care about bringing your people pride?"
Alden hissed quietly, "Varay—" but she ignored him.
Cassian leaned forward slightly, his smirk cruel and satisfied:
"I didn't accept. I was forced. But I figured—why waste the opportunity? I can humiliate myself on a grand stage, drag my family name through the mud, and watch my father choke on his own pride in the most pathetic way. Worth it."
Varay's mouth tightened. "So you'll sabotage us for personal revenge?"
Cassian raised both hands, mocking innocence:
"Oh no. I wouldn't dare provoke the mighty Houses of Aurae and Wykes. I'll only sabotage myself. You three prodigies can have all your fame with the audience."
"Y-you...", Varay gritted her teeth.
Cassian's eyes gleamed at her reaction, and his smirk turned downright mocking:
"Oh? Or perhaps are you accusing me of trying to make you lose, my lady? Because I thought we have a literal quadra-elemental mage right here to save the day. Isn't that the entire reason His Majesty chose this Valerius firstborn? To flex on the other two kingdoms with Sapin's demi-god and scare them shitless?"
He spread his hands in an exaggerated shrug.
"If our wise and glorious king has so much faith in him, why should you worry at all? Do you really think there's anyone in our age group, from any race, who could possibly challenge this boy? Might as well throw him alone into a 1 against all battle with the elves and dwarves, why even need for you two huh? Oh, that's if... as long as he lives up to the legend, right?"
Cassian let the question hang, grin sharp as a knife, daring any of them to answer.
"Bairon, hold back Varay.", Alden elbowed Bairon slightly and whispered to him as he noticed Varay's fist was frozen with ice.
" You are asking him to dig into my early grave.", Bairon whispered back.
" I will pay you the medical bill.", Alden replied before saying:
"Alright, you made your point, do whatever suits you. It's not like we have any authority to make you follow us. No need for more unnecessary conflicts here."
Varay turned to Alden:
"Alden, I'm trying to—"
Bairon gently tapped her shoulder, a surprisingly polite gesture from him, signalling her to calm down.
Varay paused, cheeks flushing slightly at the contact, then fell silent with a tight, steely glare.
When the carriage finally stopped before the towering Grand Arena, the servants opened the doors. Cassian jumped down first without a word, striding straight toward the human representatives' waiting room.
Alden followed, stepping down beside Bairon and Varay.
As they walked together, Varay hissed under her breath:
"Why did you stop me? I was going to teach that arrogant runt a lesson."
"Alden asked me to do it.", Bairon shrugged with theatrical innocence.
"I asked him to do it.", Alden confirmed without hesitation.
"I knew you asked Bairon to stop me. Why?", Varay asked specifically at Alden.
"We're about to participate in one of the most important events in the entire continent. You really think it's worth wasting your energy with him? It's not like Cassian can actually do anything with us.", Alden responsed.
"He's planning to humiliate himself, sure—but that still affects all of us. It taints Sapin's image if he acts like a fool.", Varay clenched her teeth.
Alden turned, his expression unreadable.
"Why are you so worried about 'representing the image,' Varay?"
Varay's eyes flashed.
"Because it matters, Alden. We're here as future generations of Sapin. People will judge the whole kingdom by how we act, win or lose."
Alden held her gaze for a moment, then let out a slow breath, shrugging:
"Let's say somehow if I'm happened to commoner participating this tournament, I have commoner's cheap ugly clothes, I act like a commoner lacking noble etiquettes and stuffs. But in the end I won—or at least gave a performance everyone remembered. Would they really care about my image anymore?", Alden asked.
Varay hesitated: "Well… probably a lot of them still would."
Alden's lips quirked in a humorless smile:
"Exactly. Because a lot of them aren't here to appreciate talent—they're here to judge, to soothe their own insecurity at seeing ten-year-olds stronger than most grown men. They'll nitpick anything to make themselves feel better. Clothes. Manners. Bloodlines. Position."
He leaned back slightly.
"But that's not who matters. The real audience is smaller: the royal families, our parents, the smart ones actually paying attention to what we can do. They're the ones who decide our future roles and rewards. The rest? Just noise."
Varay frowned, then let out a slow breath:
"…I can't even argue with that."
Alden's grin softened, friendlier now:
"Relax. Do your best. And there are prizes for winning too. It's not just about impressing the crowd."
Bairon clapped a hand to Alden's shoulder with mock solemnity:
"Finally something we can both agree on."
"But Alden," Varay pressed, her voice hardening. "Earlier, it wasn't just about 'image.' He insulted you. Mocked us. Downplayed me and Bairon, too."
Alden waved a dismissive hand.
"Let the dog bark, Varay. That's what he wants—to stir scandal, drag his name into dirt and make his father squirm with embarrassment. Best way to beat him? Don't give him what he wants. Watch how that'll rile him up even more."
Varay's eyes narrowed to slits:
"No. He got lucky because we're in a tournament. The next time he runs that mouth and insults any of us—I will freeze him solid until he's brittle enough to shatter like cookies."
Alden and Bairon exchanged a look. Then they both shivered, almost in unison, scooting a hair's breadth away from her on either side.
Alden cleared his throat carefully: "Y-yes ma'am."