The next day, Lucius finally returned to training. Right after breakfast, he went back to his room to change clothes and then set out with Mira toward the grove.

  “Young master, what are you doing?” Mira asked.

  Lucius couldn’t see her expression, but he assumed she must be wearing a look of surprise and confusion.

  “…Training…”

  “I figured as much. But I’m asking about the blindfold.”

  As Mira had pointed out, Lucius had his eyes covered by a black blindfold, tied tightly enough that he couldn’t see anything.

  “…Testing… something…,” he said as he began to move forward.

  No, not exactly running—it was closer to walking. The terrain around the grove was uneven, with branches and stones scattered randomly across the ground, so he first needed to gain a proper sense of his path before he could increase his pace.

  The area he had marked for his run didn’t exceed one hundred and fifty meters, yet it took him nearly five minutes to complete the first lap, and there were no fewer than ten times when he tripped over a branch or stone and nearly smashed into the ground.

  Even so, he continued. Slow as he was at first, he gradually increased his speed as he grew accustomed to the terrain, until he completed a total of fifty laps.

  “Haaa…”

  Letting out a long, deep breath, he finally stopped. Sweat ran down his face, but the fatigue he felt wasn’t physical.

  This is good.

  Lucius nodded. He remained still for a few more seconds, until his breathing fully calmed, then straightened his posture and walked toward where he remembered the first wooden post to be.

  No…

  Extending his hand forward, all he grasped was empty air. He had to repeat the motion several times from different positions until his fingers finally found the sensation he was searching for.

  Here.

  Planting his feet, he spread them slightly apart and clenched his fists before throwing a punch.

  “Tsc.”

  The dull sound and lack of resistance told him he had missed. He adjusted his stance slightly and threw another punch.

  Again…

  He missed the second one as well, so he repeated the process and threw another strike.

  Good.

  This time, he felt success in his skin and bones, a deep sound echoing through the grove as the wooden post was struck.

  From there, he continued attacking—first only punches, then kicks, then combinations of punches and kicks.

  At first, he missed more often than he hit, and every miss was painful in its own way, but each one helped him calculate the distance needed for his attacks more accurately.

  Mira watched from a distance, restless, letting out small cries whenever Lucius missed a blow or hurt himself. He refrained from telling her she was being a distraction only because he considered any sound coming from her as noise he needed to transcend in order to focus fully on the task at hand.

  He continued striking the wooden post until his arms and legs were numb, then finally moved on to the next exercise.

  Still blindfolded, he felt his way toward the pile of stones he had separated the day before.

  Kneeling down, he grabbed the heaviest one he could find and lifted it high. His muscles burned from the effort, but he ignored the sensation and began to walk.

  He didn’t get very far. Around the twentieth step, he tripped over a tree root, dropping the stone to the ground before falling onto it.

  “Ugh…!”

  “Young master!”

  Mira’s voice rang out instantly, and the next moment he could feel her touch on his body.

  “Are you all right? Did you hurt yourself anywhere?”

  He signaled that it was nothing, but that didn’t seem enough to calm the maid’s nerves.

  “This kind of training is madness, young master. You’re going to get seriously hurt. Please, let’s stop this already.”

  “I… am… fine…,” he said as he retrieved the stone from the ground and resumed walking.

  With great effort, he reached the end of the clearing, only to turn around and walk the entire way back.

  This girl…

  Throughout the entire path, he could hear Mira’s footsteps close to his own. What was she doing? Was she going to try to catch him if he fell again? With those thin arms of hers? It was almost funny.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Thump.

  Returning to the starting point, Lucius dropped the stone to the ground and, without wasting time, groped around for a larger one, retracing the same path as many times as necessary until he had carried all the stones heavier than the first.

  “Haaa… haaa…”

  When he finally stopped, his arms felt like they were made of lead, his fingers so stiff he couldn’t even bend them.

  Still blindfolded, he sat down on the ground with his legs stretched out. Close your eyes, eliminate any unnecessary thoughts, forget your surroundings, and breathe properly.

  Once again, he tried to feel his Aura, but even after several minutes, all he found was pain and exhaustion.

  Once more.

  Placing his hands on his knees, he forced his body to stand.

  “Are you still going to continue… young master?”

  Beyond the blindfold, he heard Mira’s voice.

  “…Of… course…”

  He hadn’t even completed half of his training yet.

  …

  The Aster family was a family of warriors. It was their martial prowess that, centuries ago, earned them the title of Great Imperial House, when they aided the Royal House in unifying the entire Empire during the War of Foundation.

  Centuries had passed, yet the family remained firmly rooted in its origins. Whenever a major conflict involving the Empire arose, at least one name from House Aster would be present to honor the family’s legacy.

  In Cédric’s case, that great event had been the war against the Kingdom twenty years ago. He had not only fought, but led the imperial troops in a war that had seemed lost, bringing about an imperial victory.

  Those were brutal times—but also times when the worth of a true warrior could be tested.

  Now, the Empire was at peace. No, conflicts still existed, but none large enough to require the presence of the head of one of the Great Houses on the front lines.

  His territory remained the same. Though it bordered the Kingdom, since the war twenty years ago the region had been pacified, and there had never been a situation in which his presence was required.

  Of course, occasional skirmishes occurred along the border, but these were minor conflicts that never escalated into anything greater. His duties there were limited to a few inspections and occasional oversight.

  As for the territory itself, there was nothing his own knights couldn’t handle on their own. As a result, Cédric spent most of his days inside his office, dealing with administrative matters.

  But it wasn’t because the Empire was at peace that he had forgotten what he truly was. It was not the pen that had brought House Aster this far—it was the sword. That was why, even after all these years, he continued to train and hone himself, so that when the time came and the Empire once again needed the sword…

  “Your Excellency.”

  “Hm?”

  Joseph’s voice pulled him from his thoughts, and his gaze shifted to his old assistant.

  Joseph was an elderly man whose hair had mostly disappeared. His back was bent by age, his face lined with wrinkles. He had served Cédric for nearly thirty years now, since Cédric assumed leadership of the house, assisting him with every bureaucratic aspect of governing the territory.

  A truly valuable person.

  Cédric nodded to himself.

  Joseph was not merely a simple assistant. Much of the territory functioned solely because of him.

  He organized the reports sent by local administrators, filtering what truly deserved Cédric’s attention from what was merely a waste of time. Taxes, harvests, stockpiles, trade routes, contracts with guilds—everything passed through Joseph’s hands before reaching Cédric.

  He was also responsible for audiences: setting priorities, postponing irrelevant matters, forwarding minor decisions without even troubling him.

  He did not fight, nor did he wield a sword, yet he knew the territory better than any general. Every road, every village, every recurring problem was recorded in his memory with near-frightening precision.

  But he’s growing old.

  A glance at the man’s weary face showed that the weight of age had already caught up with him. In a few years, he would no longer be able to handle such a workload.

  That is why Lucius must replace him.

  His eldest son lacked talent in the martial arts—this was a fact he had recognized long ago, yet he had insisted on forcing him down that path.

  A foolish decision.

  The consequences had proven as much. Lucius’s path was never the sword, but the pen and words. He was better suited to focusing on academic studies. That was where he excelled, and where he could be useful to the family.

  Alex or Camille—whichever of the two proved more suitable—would inherit the title of duke and the leadership of House Aster. Lucius should stand beside them, assisting with the administration of the territory just as Joseph did.

  It was something the boy might not understand, might even dislike—but it was the best outcome for everyone.

  “Your Excellency…”

  “Ah, yes. I lost myself in thought. What were you going to say?” Cédric turned his gaze back to Joseph.

  Clearing his throat, the old assistant straightened his back before speaking.

  “It concerns the new proposal regarding restrictions on the elven slave trade.”

  Cédric nodded.

  “You already have the proposal prepared?”

  “Yes. Please take a look.” Joseph handed the document to Cédric.

  “Let me see…”

  Pulling his mind away from family matters, Cédric turned his attention to the issue at hand.

  Officially, by law, the Empire condemned any form of slavery—even that of non-human races.

  However, there was a gray area regarding slave trafficking. While it was forbidden to trade or sell slaves of any kind within imperial territory, it was permitted for slave merchants to pass through imperial lands with their “merchandise” in order to sell it in other nations.

  And the starting point of the slave trade routes lay within Cédric’s region, which bordered the Kingdom.

  Now, aside from imperial law, Cédric possessed autonomy within his territory to legislate on this matter, forbidding the entry of slave merchants carrying elven captives. If he did so, he would effectively choke off the entire influx of elven slaves into imperial territory.

  The advantages were clear. He would gain the favor not only of the Elves, but also of the imperial family and the Church—the latter having long advocated against slavery across the continent.

  But such an action would also harm certain very influential figures in the South, who profited directly from this trafficking route.

  Hmm. What to do.

  Cédric crossed his arms as he pondered. Morally, he already knew the answer, but a ruler did not act solely on what was morally acceptable. A ruler did what would bring the greatest benefit to his people.

  So be it.

  Having decided, Cédric signed the document approving the proposal.

  The favor of the Elves opened the possibility of expanded trade relations with them.

  At present, however, such relations simply did not exist—not for lack of interest, but due to practical impossibility. Between imperial territory and the Elven forest stood the Forest of Death: a hostile green sea where monsters roamed freely, routes were easily lost, and entire caravans vanished without a trace.

  For centuries, that wild expanse had functioned as a natural barrier, isolating the Elves from any direct contact with the Empire.

  Thus, every elven crystal that reached imperial markets arrived by indirect means—crossing foreign borders, changing hands countless times, always inflated by intermediaries.

  But that was beginning to change.

  Cédric narrowed his eyes as he recalled recent reports.

  Duke Valemont, ruler of the northernmost lands, had been making discreet efforts to open a safe route through the Forest of Death.

  And if the duke’s routes succeeded, trade with the Elves would become a concrete possibility.