Chapter 11: The Sparks within

As I was still lost in planning my next steps, I heard soft footsteps approaching.

Right on time.

Liana.

She always arrived with perfect timing—not a minute early, not a second late. Like clockwork. Like she could feel the moment I needed her.

I'd told her so many times that she didn't have to bring my meals here.

That I wasn't the Young Master anymore. Not in this place.

But she never listened.

She still brought them anyway… and I couldn't bring myself to stop her.

Even now, I could see the same stubborn look on her face as she carefully held the tray, her golden hair swaying gently as she walked across the training ground toward me.

And despite everything, despite all I'd lost, a small smile tugged at my lips.

At least she still cared.

In the beginning, it had been hard to get her to stop calling me Young Master.

For her, it was more than just a title—it was respect, loyalty, maybe even comfort.

But I wasn't that person anymore.

So I asked her—no, practically begged her—to just call me Kael.

At first, she hesitated. Her voice would catch every time she tried.

But eventually… she agreed.

And the first time she said my name like that—soft, hesitant, and full of emotion—

It hit harder than any blade ever could.

It made me feel like I wasn't alone anymore.

Just Kael.

And that was enough.

Liana sat beside me, quietly placing the tray in front of me. Her gaze lingered—not on the food, but on me.

I raised an eyebrow.

"What is it? Do I have something on my face?"

She narrowed her eyes, lips pursed in suspicion.

"You don't look like you trained today. No sweat. No grime. You're too… clean."

I chuckled. "Maybe I just trained harder than usual. So hard, I cleaned myself with sheer willpower."

She gave me a flat look.

"Try again."

I leaned back, a grin tugging at my lips. "Fine. I did something else today."

Her eyes lit up with curiosity. "Something else?"

"Do you remember I told you today was special?"

A flicker of recognition crossed her face. "Oh! That's right. So? What happened? Wait—don't tell me you finally took a nap. I've been begging you for weeks!"

I laughed at her exaggerated pout.

"No nap. Something better." I leaned forward. "I advanced."

She blinked. "Advanced?"

"To E-minus rank," I said, the pride in my voice barely restrained.

She froze. Blinked again. Then again.

"You… what?! Really?! Really really?!"

Before I could even confirm it, she squealed and threw her arms around me in a tight hug, almost knocking the tray over.

"Congratulations, Kael! I'm so proud of you!" Her voice was trembling with excitement, like she was the one who had achieved it.

I hesitated for a heartbeat—caught off guard—but slowly wrapped my arms around her in return.

"Thanks," I murmured.

It was warm. Genuine. A feeling I hadn't experienced in a long time.

When she pulled back, her cheeks were flushed, but her smile hadn't dimmed in the slightest.

We ate together, and for once, I was the one doing the talking. I told her about my plans—how I'd plan to ask the commander for permission to start training with the knights now, how I needed a proper sword style to grow stronger. She listened intently, nodding at every word, eyes gleaming with pride.

After we finished eating, she gathered the tray and stood up.

"Good luck," she said softly, her smile lingering a moment longer before she turned and walked away.

I watched her disappear down the path, the echo of her joy still fresh in my chest.

Yeah… today really was a good day.

Now that I had reached E-rank, everything around me felt more… nuanced.

The flow of mana, once a vague sensation in the air, now danced vividly in my perception. I could see how it curved around the commander—how the very space surrounding him gave way, as if even the world itself acknowledged his presence.

He wasn't just strong.

He was meant to be here. A force of nature.

Last time I stood in this office, I had barely dared to meet his gaze. But now… I looked.

Sharp cheekbones. Cold blue eyes. Silver hair that fell with regal weight across his shoulders. He had the face that would drive noblewomen into madness—elegant, intimidating, untouchable.

But I wasn't here to admire his features.

I was here for something far more important.

His gaze lifted to meet mine, and for a moment, I felt like a blade of grass under a mountain's shadow. His eyes narrowed slightly—scrutinizing, cold, precise. Like he could see through flesh, bone, and pride to whatever truths lay buried in my soul.

"You've advanced."

His voice was low. Measured.

"Yes, Commander," I replied, keeping my tone steady. "Just today. I've broken through from F+ to E-rank."

He didn't react. Not with words, not with expression. He simply stared. The silence between us stretched, heavy and expectant.

Then, finally, he spoke.

"You didn't come here just to flaunt your measly breakthrough, did you?"

His words cut like a whip—dry and sharp.

I shook my head. "No, sir. I came to ask your permission."

He raised an eyebrow. "Permission?"

"I want to start training alongside the knights."

His eyes narrowed again, sharper now. "If I recall… I never forbade you from joining them. You were the one who refused."

"I know," I admitted, bowing my head slightly. "I was arrogant… and wrong."

I looked up, meeting his gaze without flinching.

"But I've come to understand that no matter how hard I train alone, there's a limit. If I want to grow stronger—truly stronger—I need to fight beside those stronger than me. Learn from them. Endure them."

There was a pause. His stare didn't soften.

"And now that I've advanced… I believe I'm strong enough to hold my own. At least enough to start."

"So why do you need my permission?" the commander asked, his voice calm but firm. "You're free to train alongside the knights."

I nodded, swallowing lightly. "Yes, sir. But…"

I hesitated for a moment, then continued.

"My conduct toward the knights wasn't exactly... respectful. I never trained with them. Ignored them. Acted like I was above them."

I met his gaze, unwavering.

"And last time… because of my own childish stubbornness, I nearly put them in danger. I know I'm not well-liked among them."

I paused again, letting my words hang in the air before adding, "But if you sent me personally—if they knew you ordered me to train with them—they might be willing to tolerate me. At least give me a chance."

He leaned back in his chair, silent for a moment.

Then finally, he spoke.

"Go to the instructor on the training grounds," he said. "Tell him I sent you. He'll see to it you're trained alongside the others."

Relief flooded through me.

I bowed deeply. "Thank you, Commander."

When I rose, I caught a flicker of something in his expression—surprise. A faint widening of the eyes, quickly gone.

Of course. I was a Thorne. Once the heir. The future lord of one of the Seven Great Houses.

He didn't expect me to bow.

But I wasn't the same person anymore.

He watched me closely, then added, "Don't fail."

There was no anger in his tone. No doubt. Just a quiet expectation. A command without force, but one I would carry for the rest of my life.

I straightened my back, met his cold, piercing gaze, and answered with a calm, clear voice:

"Yes, Commander."

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I looked toward the place where Kael Thorne once stood—

The stain of the Thorne family.

The weakest heir.

That's what they called him. And they weren't wrong—not then, at least.

He was once the heir to House Thorne, basking in luxury, power, and the pride of nobility. But the moment his potential was revealed to be nothing more than a disappointing B+, the world turned its back on him. Stripped of his title. Banished. Thrown into this fortress like a broken piece of furniture no longer worth keeping.

Rumors said he tried to rape a maid.

But when I saw him for the first time...

He didn't look like a criminal.

He looked like a boy who had lost everything.

His eyes—empty, hollow—weren't those of a man paying for his sins. They were the eyes of someone wrongly punished… and completely shattered.

So I had hoped—naively, perhaps—that life here would give him something.

Purpose. A reason to live. Even if not to become strong, then at least to endure.

But he didn't change. Not for the first month. He wasted away. Nearly died.

That's why I was harsh on him. Why I said what I did.

I needed him to burn.

Even if it was fury that lit the spark.

And now…

Now, he's changed.

His routine, his training, his obsession with improvement—no one forced him into it. For two full months, he pushed himself to the edge every day. And today, he bowed to me. A child of Thorne, head lowered in respect.

He didn't have to bow. Even disgraced, he's still nobility. But he did it anyway—with resolve in his eyes and no trace of pride.

A small smile crept onto my lips. Rare, quiet, but real.

That boy... Kael Thorne… he's not the same.

He wields only a sword now. No style, no form. Not even his family's spear art. But if I'm right—and if he keeps this fire burning—then maybe... just maybe...

I might teach him my sword style.

A style no one outside the main family has ever touched.

Not yet.

But soon, if he proves himself.

Kael Thorne has shown me something today.

This spark isn't small.

And it's no longer simple.