A sharp voice tore abruptly through the air of the training grounds.
"Stop for today. That's enough!"
The family knights cheered, weapons clanking as swords and spears hit the ground.
Some hugged their companions, laughing and chatting about the day. While Others joked about visiting the brothel
The instructor on the side watched them calmly and smiled. There were no prodigies in this batch, but he was content. After all, the Count's elder son—whose talent had even shocked the capital was a reason to be proud.
Amid the commotion and chatters,
Arvind smiled bitterly, His arm covered with Purple bruises. His hands, blistered and rough looked like a hard labored peasant than a noble son. He had trained the hardest since childhood, and now at 18, a full fledged adult. But still ranked among the last.
If that wasn't tragic, what was?
"Aaaah..."
he sighed, looking up at the sky.
At that moment, the corner of his eyes caught, his instructor suddenly turn back. Arvind dart away, his expression was indescribable. After a second, he raising his head pretending as if nothing had happened.
The instructor shook his head and continued.
Seeing this, Arvind's heart sank. He slapped himself in the face, he judging that even jumping on the river were helpless to wash away his disgraced...
"What a shame"
In his mind, his father's cold and indifferent face resurfaced. He didn't bother to spared him a glance. However he always smiled warmly at the sight of his older brother and sister. Doting.
He clenched his fists. His hands were covered in countless wound, but somewhere inside him, his fighting spirit pulsed silently. A dozen strands lies over his arms and legs. Tried extending toward his heart, where so called core form. A hypothetical space or dimensions.
Arvind smile bitterly and disparaged
Still not enough.
"Let's head back. You heard? A new beauty arrived. I can't wait to feel her delicate skin..."
The voice drifted over. Arvind spotted him drooling as his imagination took over, Arvind couldn't help spat in anger, completely shameless.
"Training's exhausting,"
the other grumbled, rolling his eyes, he slung his arm over his friends shoulder. He glanced at Arvind, who was kneeling and dejected. His expression ranging from pity to contempt.
"Pathetic. Probably a commoner. Perhaps the Count adopted him out of pity. Let's go back and I don't want mud on my boots."
As they left, Arvind somehow caught a glance of hesitation from one of them. Probably he'd wanted to say something. But he didn't in the end.
Arvind closed his eyes for a moment, afterwards he gripped his sword tightly. He didn't retaliate. Not because he was afraid, because he was used to it now.
Since you can't argue with the facts anyway.
After a while, Arvind walk back to his quarters.
On the way back, his thoughts drifted to his previous life. He had sent out résumés every company he could find, chasing the dream of a better life.
"You're not a fit for our company."
That sentence haunted him even in his sleeps. His dream had shattered before it had ever had a chance to bloom.
He had worked hard like an ant since high school — disciplined, tireless and sacrificing time and comfort for the slogan of better life afterward.
Had it all been a lie?
Arvind's sanity returned as he saw the wooden door of the couryard. This place was his mother's garden, it held a pivotal place in his heart.
He opened the door and walked in.
Weeds had overshadowed the beautiful flowers his mother had painstakingly care for when she was alive.
Arvind couldn't stop the tears from come out. As he remembers her and all beautiful moments they share in this garden.
He remembered coming home exhausted from training, only to be greeted by the sad news that his mother had passed. At that time, he couldn't fathom believing it. His mother who had been healthy, could passed away even a goblin can't joke that right.
Regret carved his heart like a blade.
She reminded him of his parents from his previous life — kind, understanding, and always waiting for him with a smile. She never mocked him nor showed disappointment. She always there to comfort him and never let him lack anything. She had been the only person holding his sanity together in this cold place.
Without her...
Arvind dug out the weed and set it aside silently. He remembered kneeling at her grave in the rain, his eyes numb and red from crying.
While, his father had already left.
"I bet he didn't even cry."
"Cold-blooded to the core.
Suddenly, the door creaked open, as a figure stepped inside.
Arvind didn't turn back.
"My lord, please take care of your body. Taking a bath first — then we'll eat okay?"
She look heartache at her lord. She raising a fist cheering:
"You'll reach the sky, my lord."
Arvind sighed for a moment and said,
"I'm not a child. Let them laugh."
Silent,
Arvind couldn't help doubt, he saw anika reddened eyes and cursed himself in his mind.
She didn't deserve it.
After coaxing her for a while, she finally gave him a soft nod and stepped out.
Outside, Anika wiped her eyes and make herself look as if the previous tears had been an illusion.
After few hour later.
Arvind stirred the soup absentmindedly, his stomach protesting unbridled. He came to his senses and tore into the bread like a hungry ghost. His stomach cried out in joy, as today had been exhausting and his body desperately needed energy to replenish its depleted reserves.
What kind of reincarnator looks like this?
At least back then, even when your parents scolded you, it came from care. They were there to help and supported you.
But here?...
The mother who had brought him warmth was gone. This castle although bustling and full of life, luxurious but to him it felt as cold as winter.
He smiled bitterly as the thought set in. All those novels were lies. Where's the golden finger? The supposed power to crush anyone who against...
Reality was different. His previous life, in hindsight was far more better.
Just then,
A commotion sound outside, his attention turned to the door. It sounded like Anika was arguing with his sister.
Compared to him, her life feels like a dream...
She was only seventeen and was already a junior mage. Even in the capital, prodigies reached that rank at twenty. As being a mage required not only talent but also a stable mental quality, a rare sight among the youth.
After all, play with Aetherion was not a joke. A single unintended mistake could take a person life.
Then she walked in.
Her long dress flowed like something out of a medieval drama. She carried herself like a noble's daughter — proud, elegant. But her face lit up when she saw him.
"Brother! Big Brother said you should come to the noble gathering tonight. Father's hosting it for our coming-of-age ceremony! I can't wait to see what territory he gives me!"
She spoke in one breath, as she was shoulder apart from him.
Her eyes sparkled, lost in dreams of wealth and power, where gold coins on one side and magical resources on the other.
"Aren't you still seventeen?" Arvind raised his eyebrow, watching her giggle and continued.
"One year left before your ceremony."
Off to the side, Anika giggled, casting him a mischievous glance.
On the otherhand Arvind wanted to dig a hole and bury himself. So embarrassing. I can't live anymore.
"Mmm, what do you know?" his sister waved him off. "Father loves me! He said I'm mature now, so I get to celebrate with you! Anyway, choose a territory near mine so we can help each other. I'll protect you! My fireball can turn enemies into meat pasta—smash!"
Arvind's anger exploded his mind. Was she mocking me for being weak?. He almost retorted fiercely but stopped at her expectant eyes.
Those weren't mocking words. They were warm, Affectionate and protective of her brother.
Arvind sigh, disparaged, his dignity as big brother now dragged to the ground. His shoulder couldn't help but tremble.
He stepped forward, and ruffled her hair. His thought wandered, his sister now 17, while he was 18 and still not a junior knight. He didn't know what expression he should have now.
Meanwhile his sister smiling contentedly, she shook her head cutely in his arm. She preferred being around him more than their older brother, who wore cold, stern expression and distant demeanor just like their father.
After a while, arvind finished his meal. Then they walked into the grand hall.
The hall was more luxurious than anything this era should allow. The ceiling gleamed with glowing crystals, definitely not a man-made, yet shining like electric bulbs of his past life.
There was a saying that one of those could stay lit for an entire month. What a miracle. But to him it all felt distant and alien. This luxury belonged to the Aetheric — what commoners whispered as "demon-possessed."
Maybe they weren't wrong. Aetheric power wasn't like the flashy magic of novels he read in his past life. They were subtle, invisible and could burn through soul without mercy.
"Brother, my friends are calling!. I'll go first, See you on stage!"
Her cheerful voice tugged him back from his thoughts. He nodded unconsciously. Until now, his mind still drifted to Earth.
He look at his sister smiling and laughing among the noble ladies and sons, she mask herself flawless. That was expected. After all everyone wore masks here.
Arvind walked aimlessly. Around him the nobles laughed loudly yet elegant, etiquette reflect on their every gesture. They took pride in their bloodline, a wolves in velvet.
Their eyes followed him as he walked nearer. Definitely not with respect, but with scrunity and hidden knife behind their smiles. If not for his father, they wouldn't even bother to conceal their naked distain.
He reached a quiet corner and sat down. A servant approached. Arvind waved for wine. As he took the glass, arvind nodded and thank the man.
"Look at me", he mused.
"I'm even thanking servants."
If those nobles saw, definitely they'd sneer and questioning even his bloodline. To them servant is just a tool for pleasure or a dogs to be disposed of at will.
But he didn't care. If he let that get to him, he'd go insane.
"Yo, Arvind! What are you doing in the corner?" a familiar voice called out.
"I've been searching everywhere!, Shouldn't you be at the center?. It's your day, man! You should be hugging a beautiful lady right now... I mean, choosing one! They should feel honored. But instead, you're just..."
His friend gave him a confused look, then clicked his glass.
"Gulp. You know your big brother's already in there like a hero. Man, this is your stage too. You're the son of a Count, right? Hell, I feel injustice for you. Come on — let's go!"
Arvind smiled bitterly. How could I just walk in and accept their contempt so casually? He raised his glass and drank deeply.
"You know he's the heir — everyone flocks to him. But what about me?"
His friend paused, then chuckled awkwardly.
"Anyway, what about you? Managed to snatch heir status from your big brother yet?"
Arvind's smile faded as he remembered those confident words his friend once boasted. He turned, curious and saw his friend's shoulders slump.
Arvind raise his eyebrows.
"What do you know,"
"That was just for show. If I didn't fight, my brother would've taken everything that was supposed to be mine. Becoming a mud-leg... it's hell. I'd rather die."
"Oh!, Yeah," Arvind replied quietly. "Then I congratulate you in advance... Mr. Baron. Are you a junior knight now?"
How ironic was the nobles acting like they don't belong to this world, asking them to be a commoner that they despise. That would be killing them. If that wasn't tragic, it'd be funny.
His friend raised a fist in mock victory, grinning.
In Atheron, noble society wasn't like in his past life, here strength ruled louder than bloodline.
"Almost there. My core's nearly formed. But enough about me — what about you? Have you advanced yet?. I feel both awe and shame seeing how hard you train. Surely you're a junior knight by now."
Arvind shook his head indifferent. He turned toward him, the tension in his chest easing slightly.
"You see me as a failure, don't you?"
His friend stiffened. Clearly he does, arvind wasn't surprised.
"That's not—"
Then a loud voice from afar cut in interrupted them.
"Your father's calling."
Arvind nodded his expression change...