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Inside the Count's Mansion
Count Aleric stood by the tall windows of his study, sunlight filtering in through sheer curtains as he addressed the maid kneeling before him.
"So," he said, voice calm and deliberate, "Ignis has left Ravenwood County for Eldermere?"
The maid kept her head low and answered respectfully, "Yes, my Lord. I saw it with my own eyes—he left on a black horse. Both General Commander Evan and Lady Alenna came out to see him off at their mansion gates."
Aleric gave a small nod. "Very well. You may go."
As the maid silently exited the room, the Count turned back to face the lavish sitting area where two elegant women lounged on embroidered chairs. Lady Seraphina Highmoor swirled a glass of red wine in her hand, while Lady Evelyne Durnholde fanned herself lightly, her tone sharp with disdain.
"Well," Evelyne said with a scoff, "it seems our proud General Commander is finally embarrassed enough to send his son away. Likely couldn't stand the thought of him staying around and tarnishing the family name."
Lady Seraphina raised a brow and offered a more tempered view. "But from what I've heard, Sir Evan is deeply fond of his son. He may truly be sending him to Eldermere for training, as he claimed—Lady Alenna has a few trusted contacts there."
Evelyne rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. "Hmph. If you wish to believe such sentimental nonsense, go ahead. But I don't buy it. He's likely trying to hide the boy's lack of talent. And let's not forget—he used to pit that boy against my son constantly, as if to parade Ignis around like some shining example. Perhaps now he's finally realized he can't maintain the illusion any longer."
Seraphina said nothing in return, though the slight tightening around her eyes suggested her thoughts were deeper than she let on. Count Aleric, meanwhile, remained quiet, gazing out the window once more.
Something about this move intrigued him—and he wasn't the kind of man to overlook what others dismissed.
Count Aleric sat down in his high-backed chair, leaning back and folding his hands over his chest as he spoke in a measured voice.
"A few days ago, Evan came to me and requested a short leave," he began, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "He said he intended to see his son off to Eldermere—to ensure his safety, or so he claimed. According to him, the boy insisted on going alone, eager to experience the world and the so-called spirit of adventure. Evan, ever the doting father, agreed... though with the caveat that he would follow from the shadows."
He paused, the flicker of doubt in his gaze not hidden.
"Now, whether that's the full truth or not—I can't say. Perhaps he's embarrassed, or perhaps he truly believes it's for the sake of training. But one fact is undeniable: for the first six months of his life as an aspiring knight, Ignis was completely unable to guide mana into his body."
Aleric's voice grew colder, more dismissive.
"That kind of delay speaks volumes. It reveals an abysmally low level of talent. From that moment onward, I saw no reason for any of my children to associate with him. Wasting time with someone destined to struggle in mediocrity benefits no one."
He waved a hand in the air, as if brushing aside the very thought.
"Evan may be a genius, far above me in skill and reputation—but his son? At best, that boy will reach the level of a 3-Star Knight. That's the ceiling I see for him. Nothing more."
What Count Aleric didn't know—what he couldn't know—was that Ignis was already walking a path beyond his imagination. If the Count had even the faintest idea of the power slumbering within that boy, he wouldn't have dared utter such words aloud.
----
After two hours of riding, the strain of the saddle began to wear on Ignis. His muscles ached, and the steady rhythm of the horse's gait had started to feel more grating than graceful. With a low sigh, he pulled gently on the reins, guiding the horse to a stop.
The road around him was barren—no signs of life, no houses, just a worn path carved from years of travel. To his right stretched an endless sweep of grasslands, rippling gently under the breeze. To his left loomed a quiet forest, tall trees standing like silent sentinels.
He dismounted and led the horse to the edge of the road, tying the reins loosely to a sturdy wooden post someone had driven into the earth long ago, perhaps for this very purpose.
From one of the saddlebags slung over the horse's flanks, Ignis retrieved a metal bottle etched with intricate runes. It was one of the magical items his mother had entrusted to him before his departure. Holding it in his hand, he channeled a small stream of mana into the runes. They shimmered faintly, reacting to his energy—and within moments, the once-empty bottle filled with cool, clear water, drawn from the moisture in the air.
"A lifesaver," he muttered, taking a deep drink.
He filled the bottle four more times to let the horse drink its fill, gently patting the creature's neck in gratitude. After that, he sat down on a flat stone near the roadside and rested, letting the breeze cool the sweat on his brow. Half an hour passed quietly, with only the rustling of leaves and distant chirping of birds for company.
As the sun inched higher in the sky, Ignis stood and stretched. His goal was to reach the village marked on his map before nightfall—a key checkpoint in his travel plans.
Without further delay, he climbed back onto the saddle, gave the reins a soft flick, and the horse resumed its steady pace along the dusty road toward Eldermere.
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