"Alaric, how's my kid doing?"
Now in the office, with the amount of paperwork getting significantly fewer with the help of a newcomer, a butler, the Master of the Draconia Household asked his aide, and the man, having a good build albeit appearing a bit thinner on the side given his tall stature, answered with quite the worry in his voice.
"The young master… well, I heard the two of you finished talking early, and he headed straight to his room. He's been there for the entire day; he didn't eat lunch, nor did he search for dinner tonight, Sir Arthur."
Hearing the concern in his aide's words, the father merely smiles as he continues reading through document after document, seemingly not concerned with the fact that his son hadn't eaten for two meals at all.
"He seems to be meditating but…"
Feeling like he should continue with his words, the aide, Alaric, then starts to narrate the things he had observed, only for him to pause as he hesitates about delivering what can only be assumed to be devastating news.
"There's not a single movement of mana in the air around his room, I know."
The father himself finishes the word that the aide doesn't want to say, and the aide can only nod wryly, agreeing with the master's words while admiring not only said master's insight, but also his composure not to feel even just a little bit weak knowing that his treasured son, despite all his talent in the sword, still fails to grasp mana at such matured age.
And yet even then, the aide felt like the father still feels a bit overwhelmed by this news, as silence ensued within his office, only the sound of paper could be heard as the two of them continued to read through every single one of them.
"Sir Arthur, there's no need to think about it too much, the young master is good, no, great with the sword, even if he can't be a student, he can be a respected instructor at—"
Feeling like it is his duty to console the father who appears to be a bit lost, the aide couldn't help but stop his words as he heard this father, his master, exploding into a fit of amused laughter, his loud, powerful voice resounding not only within this room but all across the corridor as well, surprising some guards awake as they already feel a bit sleepy guarding the place in the middle of the night.
"Old friend, it seems to me that this temporary peace we achieved had dulled your once sharp senses, and not only by a little bit, but severely at that."
The master, no, the friend spoke to his aide with a cheerful tone to his deep voice, eyes looking with a tinge of mocking towards the once sharp but now dull senses of his friend, but more than that, a gaze holding a burning pride towards his own child.
"That kid, he might not show it, but his claws and fangs are already grown, and it is still growing, Alaric, and anytime soon, he will spread his wings as well…"
The father told his friend about the son that he had observed during their meeting earlier today, that tinge of pride in his eyes burning into an extreme ember of fighting spirit that cannot be doused by any means one can conceive, seemingly intent on knowing the full extent of his child's strength the moment that they clash tomorrow.
"… who knows, give it just a bit of time in the future and he might just grow into a complete dragon as well, perhaps even greater than this old man."
As he said those words, the aid couldn't help but feel a bit surprised that the master, the friend, thought of the young master like that, and yet even amidst this disbelief, said aide couldn't help but take the young master in a new light as even if the one who said such appraisal is the young master's own father, this father is not something that will give a high evaluation just because it is his son.
Meanwhile, during the time these two friends forged unto the anvils of war talks about a young talent while they continue with their work, said young talent is still deep in meditation, yet different to how meditation and circulation of mana consumes mental prowess bit by bit, this young man maintains such calm, refreshed face as he meditates, the cultivation of spirit energy constantly making it so that he never gets tired and in fact, feels even more refreshed and rested as he continues with his tempering.
The absorption and refinement of spirit energy in the surroundings is also the reason why no one, not even his powerful father, can detect mana surging around and towards his room. It is exactly because his cultivation technique disregards, even pushes away, mana as it is considered impurity within the spirit energy that he absorbs.
Time continues to pass quickly as he indulges himself with the wonders of cultivation, the moon rising above the dark night skies and giving off its signature faint, gentle glow, illuminating the world just enough for one to walk across this darkness, just enough for one to witness the mystical things happening within Argus' room.
Eyes still closed as he feels every minute detail of changes happening within his body, the young man no longer has any connection with the outside world; his entire body is deprived of touch, smell, sight, hearing, and taste, all in an effort to push the senses to detect everything within him instead.
This makes it so that he is completely unaware of the things happening outside, the swirling wind usually just like a gentle blow to a calm gust now starting to rage stronger, larger, running amok and throwing everything in his room into chaos, all while his body gradually floats off his bed, almost as if the wind created by his cultivation is carrying him to a more comfortable position.
Deep inside, he is still watching every changes happening within his body, the heart, beating quite erratically yet still with consistence, each beat like that of a war drum making his blood rage and boil, the flow of blood being replicated, albeit with a lot of difference, by his meridians, the odd branches and network, despite not having a central organ, pumps spirit energy all across his body, delivering, refining and dispersing it to meet the growing needs of his flesh for the powerful energy.
It isn't only his flesh, but also his blood, his organs, his nerves and his bones that requires, that longs for spirit energy right now, the need for great fuel for growth further pushing the cycles of his cultivation technique into faster, more powerful, more forceful manner, forcing his meridians to stretch to its limit as spirit energy flooded its channels.
All of this is happening as the wind outside his body rages, drawing in more and more spirit energy from the surrounding as if his body is a dried, near deserted land receiving its fair share of rain after decades of drought, consuming a massive amount of water, but keeps on wanting more as if it couldn't be parched.
It will be a moment that will forever be remembered by those who bear witness to it, as right at this moment, the greatest Grand Dao Sage to ever exist, past, future, or present, starts taking his first step onto the traditional path of cultivation once again.