The destination was a plain about an hour away by carriage.
Nothing stood there except a simple hut—more like a guest house than a home—and endless wasteland stretching to the horizon. The sky felt too wide. The wind felt too honest. A place like this didn't exist for comfort.
It existed for training.
According to Youm, only four people lived here.
And I already knew the names.
Razen.
Sare and Grigori, former members of the Three Martial Sages.
And Gadra.
A strange combination—yet when we arrived, they were already lined up to greet us.
What was stranger was the order.
Gadra stood at the front, calm and composed, like a representative presenting a court.
"We are honored that you have come to such a place," Gadra said.
At his signal, the three behind him bowed.
Not to Youm.
To me.
Youm's eyebrow twitched.
"Hey. I'm here too, you know?"
Razen answered him without hesitation, voice sharp, familiarity hiding respect.
"Your Majesty, Sare and Grigori are guests of Farmenas, but they are not bound to you by loyalty. They are paying respect to His Majesty Atem—the lord of Gadra—by their own will."
Youm clicked his tongue.
"I get it. You don't even have to say anything—you're always lecturing me."
Razen rebuked him like that was normal.
And it was.
Razen's true intentions were never easy to read, but his position remained clear: he was a loyal vassal of Farmenas. I had assumed there was no loyalty in him toward Youm at all—but the way he spoke, the way he corrected him… it wasn't affection.
It was guardianship, in his own harsh way.
Still, something bothered me.
Sare and Grigori had never shown this kind of respect to me before.
So I asked the question directly, without softening it.
"If this is truly your will… then answer me plainly. Why are you bowing to me?"
Youm looked just as curious. He'd never heard the reason either.
If they wanted to join Eterna, I could consider it. Hinata had no intention of hunting them down as traitors and executing them.
Sare spoke first, voice controlled, almost stiff
with sincerity.
"There is a clear reason. Master Razen taught us the depth of our inexperience. Master Gadra taught us the greatness of His Majesty Atem. We were shaken to the core. We wish to be accepted—if only at the bottom of your ranks."
Master?
Before I could react, Grigori stepped forward, carried by momentum and pride.
"That's right. Gadra-sama's strength was beyond imagination… yet from what we heard, he is still not even close to you. No—before even that! We heard that under your banner there are warriors so powerful that even Gadra-sama cannot match. We want to test ourselves—"
A sudden presence burst from behind me.
Ranga sprang forward like a storm breaking its leash, mane bristling, eyes bright with hunger for battle.
"Well said! Grigori—your spirit is real. If you wish it, I will grant you a test of strength!!"
Grigori's face went white.
"G-GYAAAH!! That—That dog from back then?!"
Ranga blinked.
"Huh?"
Grigori tried to salvage dignity through panic.
"Ah—no, I meant… Ranga-dono. Yes. Ranga-dono…"
His whole body shook. Sweat poured like he'd seen a nightmare walk into daylight.
He'd been beaten by Ranga before—badly.
So badly his instincts still screamed at him.
I saw it instantly.
And I made a decision instantly.
"If that is your wish," I said, voice calm and final, "then let Ranga answer it."
Grigori's eyes widened.
"Eh?!"
Ranga's tail practically exploded with excitement.
"My king… it would be my honor!"
Grigori stumbled backward, but it was too late.
Ranga took him gently—almost lovingly—by the head in his mouth and dashed off into the
wasteland like a proud hunting wolf showing off prey.
I didn't see Grigori's expression.
But I didn't need to.
The air told the truth.
Not only I, but everyone there watched them go with warm eyes—like they were sending someone to a ceremony.
Sare cleared his throat awkwardly.
"I… would also like to test my skill. But I am still inexperienced, so I wish to start from the bottom."
"That's reasonable," I said. "Ranga is my guard. One of the best. But you're not rushing to prove something foolish."
Youm nodded, relieved.
"Of course. Grigori has a phobia of dogs since losing to Ranga-dono. I think he wanted to overcome it."
Razen pressed his palm to his forehead like he had a headache.
"Even I am not a match for Ranga-dono… What a fool."
Gadra chuckled softly beside him.
"I see. Rough treatment. I don't think I could ever do that."
Razen shot Youm a look.
"Do not. Your Majesty is a king. You do not need to be strong."
Youm's jaw tightened, but his voice stayed honest.
"I've always wanted to be strong. But I know myself. Once you understand His Majesty Atem, you realize quickly—half-strength is meaningless."
"It is not meaningless," I corrected him, firmly. "Even in the worst case, if you live, you may still save someone later."
Youm swallowed, then nodded.
"Right. Then I'll do what I can to protect the people I love."
"That is the correct answer," I said.
Youm was becoming more aware of what it meant to wear a crown.
And I had no intention of losing ground either.
Not through recklessness.
Not through pride.
Step by step.
Razen's expression softened—barely.
"As long as Your Majesty Youm serves this nation, I will help. However…" His gaze sharpened. "Princess Meme is the one I promised Queen Myuran to take as my apprentice. I will protect her before anyone else."
It was an outrageous thing to say so casually.
But I understood the weight behind it.
Farmenas had someone who'd guarded the old kingdom for centuries—whether the kingdom deserved it or not.
Meanwhile, I caught myself staring at Razen again.
His appearance was youthful, but his speech carried the rhythm of an old man. It didn't match. It lingered in my mind like a wrong card in an otherwise perfect hand.
Before I could dig deeper—
Ranga returned.
Grigori dangled limp in his mouth like a rag doll.
"My king," Ranga announced, proud as a warrior, "after a little playtime… this one has stopped working!"
…Too much.
I didn't raise my voice.
I didn't need to.
"Ranga," I said quietly, and the temperature in the air dropped, "you are not Shion. Learn control."
Ranga stiffened at once.
"…Yes, my king."
I checked Grigori.
He had fainted.
Alive. Breathing. Just unconscious.
Youm stared.
"He's that guy, right? Why did he suddenly nominate Ranga?"
I understood what Youm meant.
It didn't look like "bravery."
It looked like suicide.
But Sare spoke carefully.
"No, Your Majesty… I don't think it was revenge."
I turned my eyes to Sare.
"Explain."
Sare hesitated, then said it anyway.
"He was saying he never wanted to fight… never wanted to see him again…"
Youm blinked.
"Seriously?"
Sare nodded.
Grigori might've been trying to overcome fear… or he might've simply panicked and said something stupid in the wrong moment.
Either way—
The outcome was already done.
And as King, I would not allow confusion to control the room.
I spoke as if everything had unfolded exactly as intended.
"He was brave," I said, voice steady. "He faced what broke him once before. That spirit matters. That is why I allowed it."
Then I looked at Ranga.
"Isn't that right?"
Ranga snapped to attention instantly, reading the intent without being told.
"Yes! His spirit was so overwhelming… I overdid it!"
Ranga was adapting.
Too well, honestly.
But the room accepted it.
Youm laughed awkwardly, relieved to have a clean story.
"If His Majesty Atem says so, then that's how it is."
Sare, still stiff, nodded.
"…Yes."
Razen muttered like he was tired of everyone.
"Fine. If that's what you want to call it."
And when Grigori woke up later, he politely declined my offer to call him "Grigori-san," as if that was the most dangerous thing that happened today.
With that, my business in Farmenas was complete.
Youm and I agreed:
Sare and Grigori would be accepted into Eterna and trained there.
I considered whether this would weaken Farmenas.
But the truth was simple:
Gadra remained. Razen remained. And unless a major enemy invasion occurred, Farmenas could still buy time.
And if a major invasion did occur—
Sare and Grigori would be a drop in the bucket anyway.
So I chose the path that strengthened the future rather than comforting the present.
The power ratio among Razen's group was interesting.
By raw magicule volume alone, the order was:
Sare > Razen > Grigori > Grucius.
And Youm…
I didn't say it out loud, but the truth was the truth:
Youm was out of the question in raw power. Even with Hakurou's brutal training and strong equipment, he was barely A-rank.
We couldn't raise him drastically in the short term.
Grucius, however, had grown.
He was an elite of the Beast King's warriors, and thanks to the gift from Karion's awakening, he had climbed to Grigori's level.
Still, he refused to leave his homeland—rightfully so.
A knight commander abandoning his kingdom would be stupidity.
So I didn't take him.
He promised to visit once the crisis passed.
Grigori arrived in Eterna first.
A strong man with the special ability 'Immobility.'
He favored a halberd, but he was also skilled in hand-to-hand combat.
Though Ranga defeated him, he was still "Sage Class," comparable to a Demon Lord Seed.
Stronger than I expected.
If pushed, he could evolve even further.
Sare came second.
Once the first knight of the Imperial Guards. Defeated by Hinata, he abandoned his position. Later he challenged Diablo as one of the Three Martial Sages and ended up here.
Wrong opponents.
Bad luck.
But his ability was real.
His existence value had reached one million.
That alone made him worth watching.
Putting him through the Labyrinth in true combat conditions would be… entertaining.
Razen had only slightly more magicules than Grigori.
Yet his overall ability exceeded Sare's at one point.
When Razen took Shogo Taguchi's body, he gained Unique Skills:
Berserker
Survivor
I asked Solarys, Sovereign of Wisdom about the nature of Skills—where they reside, what can be stolen, what cannot.
«There are Skills rooted in the mind. Skills engraved in the soul. Skills residing in astral, spiritual, or material bodies. Theft is typically possible only when the Skill is bound to the body.»
Then I pressed the key point.
"So it's harder to take what's engraved in the soul?"
Solarys answered without hesitation.
«It is not absolute. But if it is rooted in the heart, it is impossible.»
Copying without taking was still possible—meaning foul tactics like Michael's remained a threat.
But that wasn't today's battle.
Today's truth was simple:
Razen acquired those Skills and used them better than Shogo ever did.
That's how he overwhelmed Sare once—despite Sare having nearly double his magicules.
Then Sare revealed the real monster inside him:
A Unique Skill called 'The All-Knowing One.'
It allowed him to recognize and master an opponent's Arts by seeing them once.
When Razen learned this, he made a ruthless, brilliant choice:
He taught Sare everything.
Every art. Every spell. Every method.
Magic is knowledge made violent.
And Sare learned without complaint.
That was why Sare called Razen "Master."
And that was why, in time, Sare became stronger than Razen—both in reputation and reality.
Even so, Gadra still defeated him.
And I finally understood the decisive factor.
Sare's Unique Skill was dangerous, but it had a weakness:
You could defeat it by fighting in a way that gave it nothing useful to steal.
Or by overwhelming it without relying on Arts.
But Gadra's case wasn't just strategy.
It was the law of the world.
Unique cannot compete with Ultimate.
Gadra had an Ultimate Gift.
And no matter what Sare learned—he couldn't imitate that level.
That alone explained the difference.
And it reminded me again:
The ability to grant an Ultimate Gift to a subordinate… was an unfair power.
A power that could warp the entire board.
By the time the sun tilted low over the wasteland, the path was clear.
Grigori would be conditioned through controlled combat and discipline under Eterna's systems.
Sare would be trained carefully—his learning ability was too valuable to waste, and too dangerous to expose without control.
He would be guided into growth.
And used wisely.
Quietly.
Confidentially.
Because in the end, war isn't won by loud strength.
It's won by the pieces you move without anyone realizing you already set the trap.
And that was how the training plan for Sare and Grigori was decided—under the gaze of the Pharaoh, in a wasteland where even Saints bowed.