Four months

Aidan walked down the corridor toward his room, edging closer to Lily, who was heading the same way. Just before they reached the branching path, he spoke, his voice cutting through the quiet hall.

"Aunt Lily."

She turned, her expression softening. "Ah, Aidan. What is it?"

"Aunt… what was that we just did? And what does it mean—that phrase, 'For that, we carry the blood of an immortal'?" His curiosity was too strong to contain.

Lily paused. "That…" She tilted her head slightly. "Didn't your teacher explain the noble custom of announcing the news?"

"He did," Aidan admitted. "But this was my first time seeing it in practice. I just… felt a bit overwhelmed."

He knew the rules—in this world, significant introductions or announcements had to be made formally, with all family members present unless there was a valid reason for absence. Yet, knowing and experiencing were two very different things.

Lily rolled her eyes before nodding and saying, "That's understandable, even if I think it's just nobles trying to be pretentious." Her tone was biting as she crossed her arms—clearly irritated by the pompous customs of noble society. Her attitude made it obvious that she didn't care much for such traditions.

Aidan scratched his head before responding, "Saying that again, Aunt Lily… I understand your point—but still, what does that line mean? 'For that, we carry the blood of an immortal.'"

Lily huffed, uncrossed her arms, and gave Aidan a deep, meaningful gaze. She looked up for a moment before saying, "Let's walk to your room."

Aidan nodded and followed her.

Lily's voice was heavy, even more so than the sound of their footsteps echoing through the empty corridor. "Aidan, you'll understand what it means when you become a rank-one being." She rolled her hand in a circular motion, her face stern. "Until then, no one will tell you—not even your father, who's usually blunt. Even he won't explain it."

"Prove that you're worthy, and your father himself will tell you."

Aidan didn't reply for several seconds before finally sighing. "Alright," he said, accepting that he wouldn't get a straight answer for now.

He had a few guesses, but none he could confirm. The sentence itself was simple enough to understand—'For that, we carry the blood of an immortal.' He knew it was about his lineage—his Wilson bloodline—an ancestor who must've achieved immortality. But was immortality even real? Even after being reborn, he never expected to encounter such power.

One thought settled in his mind: rank four wasn't the end. Maybe it was just the beginning—just a glimpse of something far beyond human limits.

He clenched his fist, a burning desire swelling in his chest. He wanted to grow stronger. To reach rank one and uncover the truth. There was still so much left to learn in this world.

Lily, walking beside him, studied his every expression—the clenching of his fist, the fire behind his eyes, and even how his steps had grown more purposeful.

Aidan, she thought. The world is too vast, unknown, and terrifying—more than you think.

She didn't say anything else, only bidding him good night before making her way to her room.

Aidan's days fell into a routine. He woke up early and trained with even more intensity until every part of his body ached. He began practicing with dummy sets—unlike before when his training consisted solely of stances without a target or partner. The dummies helped.

Matthew also began teaching him basic weapon combat styles—something Aidan had no advantage in. In his previous life on Earth, he had never held a sword. Hand-to-hand combat was easier for him to grasp, thanks to some experience back then. But even then, he hadn't had many actual fights.

From what Matthew told him, there was no way Aidan could face someone twice his age yet—not until he awakened his aura. That was the real key to bridging the gap.

Even after four months of hard training, Aidan had still not sensed his aura—a fact that frustrated him deeply. From what he had heard, most people could sense their aura within two or three months of proper training. After that, it either happened or didn't. But for Aidan, he hadn't even reached that first step.

Whenever he asked Matthew why, the answer was always the same:

"Your body's developing it differently from the other recruits and guards. They've already awakened parts of it, so sensing aura is easier for them."

Aidan could see the logic, but that didn't make it any less frustrating. Didn't this mean it would take him even longer?

With no immediate solution in sight, Aidan made a choice—he would go brutal on himself.

He trained both morning and afternoon, pushing himself to the brink of collapse—much to Sophia's concern. But she said nothing, choosing instead to quietly support his decision.

One afternoon, Aidan sat beneath the large training tree, his body drenched in sweat. It dripped from his brow and soaked his hair and clothes, which clung tightly to his skin.

He huffed, catching his breath before closing his eyes. Shifting his awareness inward, he let go of the world around him—the rustling leaves, the warmth of the sun—and sank into the rhythm of his body. He focused on his blood, letting it guide him. His attention moved to his arms, where he felt the most sensation, trying desperately to sense the presence of aura.

He waited. His breathing was steady. Seconds turned into minutes.

Nothing.

Aidan finally stood, frustrated and defeated, ready to call it a day. But as he turned, his eyes caught three guards chatting on a nearby bench.

One of them said, "There's a rumour going around—that a guy who broke his hand during training drank a Restorix potion to heal it… and at that exact moment, he accidentally sensed his aura."

Aidan froze.

A grin slowly crept onto his lips.