Chapter 9 — The First Zenin

The scream echoed through the mountain night. Vaelrik's eyes narrowed.

"That scream... a kid?" he muttered. "Sounds like he's barely twelve."

Without wasting a second, he sprinted toward the source. As he arrived, the moonlight revealed a boy—around fifteen—bruised and bloodied, standing protectively in front of a little girl. A Mountain Tiger loomed over them, snarling.

The boy turned to the girl. "Run... now!"

He charged at the beast with everything he had.

Vaelrik smirked.

In an instant, he vanished.

The Mountain Tiger, mid-roar, was suddenly split in two. Blood splattered across the rocks, steaming in the cold air. The boy collapsed, unconscious.

Vaelrik looked down at him. "So... he's the one the Shaman was talking about."

—

Chatter surrounded him.

"Who are you?" 

"You're so strong!" 

"How did you get stronger than my brother?"

Vaelrik lay on his side, eyes shut, pretending to sleep.

"Stop bothering our saviour!" the girl scolded.

"Oh… okay, brother."

Later that night, as the campfire flickered, the boy stirred.

"She's asleep?"

"Yes," Vaelrik replied. "By the way… I want to ask something."

"What is it?"

"Nothing in this world is free. So why did you save us?"

Vaelrik's eyes drifted to the flames. For a moment, a memory of Maira surfaced.

"Nothing is free in this world, huh?"

He looked at the boy.

"I'll ask you once—will you work for me?"

"Work…? What kind of work?"

"I'm forming the strongest group this world has seen."

"But I'm weak… I couldn't even protect her from a Mountain Tiger."

"Will you work for me: yes or no?"

"I… I—"

"Yes or no. I won't ask again. I don't want to hear 'but's."

"…Okay. I will do my best, sir."

"Kneel."

The boy dropped to his knees. Vaelrik unsheathed his sword and rested the blade on his shoulder.

"From this moment on, you are the First Zenin. Your loyalty is sworn to me—no god, no emperor. I am your master. You no longer have a name. You are Zenin One."

The boy lowered his head. "I accept your will, my Lord."

Vaelrik studied him. "Do you want to be a mage or swordsman?"

"Whatever my Lord says, I will become."

"Stop being cheesy. Just say it."

"…Swordsman."

"Alright. Now go back to sleep."

"Yes, my Lord."

—

The next morning—

"Good morning, my Lord."

"I have something for you. Sit down, close your eyes."

Vaelrik placed his hand on the boy's lower abdomen.

"I'll pour mana and form a core for you."

The boy screamed. "AHHHHHH—!"

"Calm down. You'll cripple yourself."

With a surge of controlled aura, Vaelrik formed his first core.

"I'll give you a technique. Follow the path I just powered through, and use this."

**Technique: Core Splitting**

- Spin your first core rapidly in your lower abdomen until it forms a glowing circle. 

- Inhale raw mana from nature and force it into the spinning core. 

- Let it grow to double its size, then split it using sheer willpower.

**Effect:**

- Creates two cores: 

 - The First Core absorbs mana 

 - The Second Core protects the first 

- Accelerates aura growth 

- Allows safer mana absorption 

- Greatly enhanced destructive power in attacks

"This technique is only safe after you reach 2-Star. Don't push yourself."

Vaelrik stood.

"I'm sending your sister to my family."

The boy looked up. "But what about her parents, my Lord?"

"…Parents?"

Vaelrik narrowed his eyes.

"We used to live in an orphanage," the boy explained. "One day, a noble family came to adopt her. She refused to leave me behind. So they took me too… as a servant."

Vaelrik exhaled. "Alright. We'll drop her off."

—

Later at the baron's estate:

"Oh, so her father is a baron?"

"Yes, my Lord. The young lady is here."

A maid stepped forward. "Take her to her room."

Suddenly, a voice rang out.

"How dare a mere servant touch her? Where have you been? You didn't return for a whole day and night!"

An older servant sneered. "Looks like we need to teach you a lesson. And who is this boy beside you?"

"I think I should teach him a lesson too."

Vaelrik stepped forward.

"Sorry for the late introduction. I am Duke Dumen Enqul's son."

"Any proof?"

Vaelrik drew his sword and tilted it. A glowing seal shimmered on the hilt—unmistakably the Duke's heir mark.

"And as for teaching a lesson…" His voice darkened. "My father wouldn't allow you to touch even a hair on me."

"Hmph. You're lucky you're the Duke's son. What about this servant?"

"He doesn't kneel before you," one shouted. "His master—!"

"Stop."

Vaelrik raised his voice.

"He is sworn to me. From now on, he is the First Zenin. I am his master."

He turned his back and walked toward the gate.

"We'll take our leave."

"Yes, my Lord."

They left without looking back.

Inside, a noblewoman whispered, "Honey… did you see that? That impudent brat thinks he can do anything just because he's the Duke's son."

The baron laughed bitterly. "He's not wrong. His father may be a Duke, but in terms of power, their family can rival even the imperial line. He's the first known 9th Circle mage. And rumor says... the Duke treasures that boy more than anything."

—

"Where are we going now, my Lord?"

"To the guild. To take missions. We'll need them in the future."

"But why?"

"You'll understand soon."

At the guild—

**Mission: Kobold Den** 

**Required Rank: B** 

**Reward: 100 gold**

**Accepted.**

"So we're going to kill kobolds, my Lord?"

"Yes. But you'll only watch. You don't even carry a sword yet. If three charge at you, you're finished."

—

They arrived.

"There are around 70–90 kobolds," Vaelrik noted.

He focused aura into his legs and burst forward, blade flashing. In seconds, it was over.

"All done. Collect their ears."

"Yes, my Lord."

—

At the guild:

"S-Rank Vaelrik, huh… makes sense now."

—

"We've got gold now. Can we rest, my Lord?"

"Nope."

"My Lord, please reconsider. At this rate, I might dieeeee—!"

Vaelrik ignored him.

—

At a supply store:

"Hey kid, you want 50 barrels of oil? What for?"

"Forty gold."

"No problem."

Vaelrik dropped the gold on the counter and placed the barrels into his space ring.

—

Back at the guild—

**Mission: Subjugation of Orc Den** 

**Required Rank: S or higher** 

**Reward: 200,000 gold** 

**Estimated enemies: 50+ orcs**

**Accepted.**

"My Lord... I'm seriously going to die..."

"Don't. I don't have money to host your funeral."

—

As the barrels were rolled into the den—

"When they enter, throw the torch at the kobold's den," Vaelrik instructed.

"Okay, my Lord."

Vaelrik rolled the barrels in, then leaped to the top of the cave, releasing an aura blast that collapsed the entrance.

Later, when the smoke cleared, the stench hit hard.

He looked at Vaelrik, standing motionless in the toxic air. The blood, the burnt flesh — nothing fazed him.

Zenin One covered his nose and coughed. "How are you not even reacting…?"

Vaelrik didn't respond.

Then it hit him.

"Ah… he's using aura to block his sense of smell…"

The boy closed his eyes and tried it himself. The stench dulled instantly.

"T-That's how strong people deal with it…"

They received the 200k gold reward.

—

"Let's find an inn."

"Yes, my Lord."

"And stop saying 'my Lord' every two seconds. Use it only after our group is fully formed."

"Yes, my— I mean, yes."

—

**Hey, kids. I heard you got 200k gold.**