Mage Heir - The Summoner of Beckham Estate?

Silas followed Bonereghard through the halls of the estate, Diog walking silently at his side.

They exited the main building and approached the Estate Training Grounds.

The training grounds were vast, stretching out in a large, open area surrounded by thick stone walls. The space was divided into several distinct zones, each designed for different types of training.

Silas could almost hear the echoes of past battles and the clash of weapons as he took it all in.

To the left, a row of weight-lifting equipment stood ready for use. Enchanted barbells shimmered faintly, their weights magically adjustable. Nearby, a series of heavy sleds waited to be pulled across the field. The ground around them was worn and marked by countless training sessions.

Further ahead, a sparring area with padded floors and walls beckoned. Silas noticed enchanted dummies positioned throughout the space. These dummies moved with an eerie lifelike quality, reacting to imaginary attacks as if anticipating an opponent's moves.

Racks of various training weapons and armor stood at the ready, each piece meticulously maintained despite years of use.

A recovery area lay just beyond the sparring zone.

Healing runes embedded in comfortable benches glowed softly, offering a place for rest and recuperation after intense training sessions. Silas could imagine warriors and creatures alike taking a breather here before diving back into their rigorous routines.

Bonereghard gestured towards the central arena marked out for one-on-one combat practice. "This is where you and Diog will spend most of your time today," he explained. "The enchanted dummies will adapt to Diog's fighting style, providing a challenging yet safe environment for combat training."

Silas nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and determination. "And those targets over there?" he asked, pointing to archery targets and moving dummy systems set up further along.

"Ranged combat training," Bonereghard replied smoothly. "Though Diog's abilities are primarily melee-focused, it's always wise to be prepared for any situation."

"And how would Diog prepare against archers?" Silas asked.

Bonereghard just looked at him. "By dodging arrows, of course, until close enough to kill the archers."

Silas glanced over at Diog, who was already stretching his limbs, ready for the challenges ahead. "I suppose that makes sense," he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. But something else nagged at him as he surveyed the training grounds again. "Why is most of this training stuff geared towards humans? Shouldn't there be more... monster-specific equipment?"

Bonereghard's monocle glinted as he turned to face Silas fully. "Way back in the day, when perhaps I was still alive, taming and summoning were not the ways that conflicts were settled. Instead… it was war."

Bonereghard paused, his skeletal form almost wistful as if he were reliving a distant memory. "And when it came to war, the Beckhams have been the best," he continued, his voice tinged with a pride that seemed to transcend time itself. "The estate's training grounds were designed for human warriors, soldiers who fought and died to protect this land."

Silas glanced around. "So, we're adapting old methods for new battles," he mused.

"Precisely," Bonereghard affirmed with a slight nod. "The principles of combat remain unchanged, application of power, strategy, agility, strength. Whether facing an army or a rival tamer's beast, those fundamentals are eternal."

Silas took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "Alright then, let's get started." He looked at Diog and gave him a reassuring nod. "Ready to dodge some arrows and take down some dummies?"

Diog barked in response, eyes gleaming with determination.

As they moved toward the sparring area, Silas felt a surge of confidence. The past might have been filled with warriors wielding swords and shields, but now it was his turn, with Diog by his side, to bring the Beckham legacy into a new era of magic and monsters.

Bonereghard's voice took on an uncharacteristically serious tone as they walked. "Ah, war. There is something about the clash of steel on steel, cry of battle that is… truly invigorating."

Silas blinked at Bonereghard's enthusiasm.

"I remember the first time I cleaved through an enemy's armor," Bonereghard was oddly cheerful. "There's a certain satisfaction that comes from seeing your opponent's eyes widen in shock just before you strike them down."

"Uh... sounds intense," Silas replied, unsure how to respond to Bonereghard's sudden shift in demeanor.

"Oh indeed!" Bonereghard exclaimed. "And don't get me started on sieges! Superior strategy, the way the heart beats when watching the defenses of an enemy crumble... truly magnificent."

Silas chuckled nervously. "I guess you've got some interesting stories from back in the day."

"More than interesting," Bonereghard said with a dry laugh that sounded like bones clinking together. "Why, I remember when your great-great-grandfather led an entire battalion against an orc horde. Now that was a spectacle!"

Silas glanced at Bonereghard as they walked, curiosity bubbling up inside him. "Just how long have you been in the family?" he asked, trying to imagine the skeletal steward in a time long past.

Bonereghard paused, "I've always been in the family," he replied simply.

Silas opened his mouth to ask further, but Bonereghard waved a bony hand dismissively. "Ah, what were we talking about?" he said, shifting gears abruptly. "Let's focus on Diog's training, shall we? The sooner he's prepared for battle, the better."

Silas furrowed his brow, sensing a story left untold, but decided to let it go for now. Diog's training was indeed more pressing. He watched as Bonereghard moved towards the sparring area, his skeletal frame gliding with an eerie grace.

"Diog," Bonereghard called out with authority, "start with the basic combat stances and movement drills."

The wolf cub sprang into action, its movements fluid and precise despite its young age. Silas couldn't help but feel a swell of pride watching Diog move so naturally.

Bonereghard continued his instructions without missing a beat. "Now practice your Frost Fang ability on those targets," he directed, pointing to specially designed dummies.

Diog focused, his eyes narrowing as he channeled his frost magic. A moment later, icy fangs formed and he lunged at the target with precision. The dummy shivered under the attack, frost spreading across its surface.

"Good," Bonereghard nodded approvingly. "Now combine your physical abilities with your frost powers."

Diog leaped into action again, seamlessly integrating his ice magic with powerful bites and swift dodges. The enchanted dummies reacted accordingly, providing a challenging yet manageable opponent.

Silas found himself absorbed in the training session.

"Simulated combat scenarios next," Bonereghard announced, his bony fingers flicking over a series of runes on a nearby control panel.

Silas watched as the runes glowed brightly, and the air around Diog shimmered with magical energy. In a matter of seconds, several magical constructs materialized around the wolf cub. Each construct took on a distinct form, some resembled armored soldiers, others mimicked agile beasts, and a few even floated above the ground.

Diog's ears perked up, and his fur bristled with anticipation. Silas could sense the danger as Diog crouched low, ready to pounce at the first sign of movement.

The constructs moved easily, mimicking real opponents with uncanny accuracy. One of the armored soldiers lunged forward, its sword gleaming in the sunlight.

Diog reacted instantly, dodging to the side and countering with a swift bite to the construct's leg. Frost spread from his jaws, encasing the limb in ice and slowing the construct's movements.

Another construct, resembling a large cat, darted in from Diog's blind spot. Silas shouted out a warning and breathed easier when Diog pivoted on his hind legs, using his Frost Fang ability to fend off the attack. The icy fangs connected with the feline construct's flank, sending it skidding across the ground as frost spiked upwards.

The floating constructs proved to be trickier opponents. They hovered just out of reach, launching magical projectiles towards Diog.

Silas clenched his fists as Diog weaved between the attacks, using his agility to avoid being hit. With a determined growl, Diog leaped into the air, snapping at one of the floating constructs and bringing it crashing down to earth in a shower of sparks.

Bonereghard observed closely from his vantage point near the control panel. "Excellent reflexes," he remarked dryly. "But remember to maintain focus; these constructs will adapt."

As if on cue, the remaining constructs began to change their tactics. The armored soldiers coordinated their movements, flanking Diog from both sides while the agile beasts attempted to distract him with feints and rapid strikes.

Diog didn't falter.

He moved like a blur, alternating between defensive maneuvers and calculated attacks. His frost magic created barriers of ice that hindered the soldiers' advances while he dealt swift blows to any beast that got too close.

One particularly aggressive construct, a towering figure wielding a massive hammer, charged at Diog with surprising speed. Diog met the challenge head-on. He ducked under a sweeping blow from the hammer and latched onto the construct's arm with his frosty jaws.

Ice spread rapidly, freezing its arm solid before shattering it with a powerful bite.

Silas couldn't help but be amazed at Diog's prowess. Each move was executed with precision and purpose, showcasing not only physical strength but also tactical intelligence. It was clear that this training was pushing Diog to new heights.

The battle continued relentlessly. Constructs fell one by one under Diog's relentless assault until only one remained—a shadowy figure that seemed to melt into the ground before reappearing behind Diog.

Silas shouted instinctively, "Behind you!" but Diog had already sensed it. With an impressive display of agility, he spun around and unleashed a blast of frost magic directly at the shadowy figure.

The final construct dissolved into mist under Diog's attack, leaving him standing victorious amidst remnants of shattered constructs and dissipating magical energy.

Bonereghard clapped slowly.

"Well done," he said with genuine approval.

"Thanks," Silas said, his eyes still fixed on Diog, who was panting but looking satisfied with his performance.

Bonereghard adjusted his monocle, and looked straight at Silas. "Well done, Diog," he began, his voice dripping with that signature sarcasm. "And you, young master, merely stood there like a fish with its mouth open waiting for a hook."

Silas's cheeks flushed. "Hey, I'm learning too. It's not like I've done this before."

"As your actions keep reminding me," Bonereghard replied, "It is quite... evident."

Silas resisted the urge to snap back. Instead, he focused on Diog, who trotted over and nudged his leg affectionately. Silas knelt down to scratch behind Diog's ears. "You did great out there," he murmured, feeling a surge of pride for his companion.

Diog barked softly in response.

Bonereghard cleared his throat, drawing Silas's attention back to him. "If I may suggest, young master," the skeletal steward began, "perhaps next time you might consider engaging more actively in Diog's training. Commands from a distance are effective, but a tamer who understands and participates in the nuances of combat can provide far better guidance."

Silas nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, you're right. I'll work on it."

"Excellent," Bonereghard said with a curt nod. "Now, shall we move on to endurance exercises?"

Silas stood up and brushed off his pants. He glanced around the training grounds again, noting the various areas designed for different types of drills.

"What's next?" he asked.

Bonereghard pointed towards a section of the grounds that had been set up with obstacles—walls to climb, tunnels to crawl through, and platforms to leap across.

"Endurance is key for any creature engaged in battle," Bonereghard explained. "Diog must be able to sustain his efforts over prolonged periods without faltering."

Silas looked at Diog and gave him an encouraging nod. "Alright buddy, let's see what you've got."

They moved towards the obstacle course together.

Silas watched as Diog navigated the course.

Bonereghard's voice interrupted his thoughts once again. "Remember," he said calmly but firmly, "you must also push yourself if you wish to lead effectively."

Silas clenched his fists and took a deep breath. He knew Bonereghard was right, if he wanted to restore the Beckham legacy and protect their estate, he couldn't just rely on Diog's strength alone; he needed to grow stronger alongside him.

"Alright," Silas muttered to himself as he stepped up to the first wall. He gripped the rough surface and began climbing, muscles straining as he pulled himself up.

Diog watched from below, panting lightly but keeping his eyes fixed on Silas. Once Silas reached the top, he looked down and saw Diog already halfway up another wall.

"Show-off," Silas chuckled under his breath before dropping down on the other side.

They moved in tandem through the rest of the course. Diog scrambled through tunnels with ease, while Silas had to contort his body awkwardly to fit through. At one point, Diog leaped gracefully across a series of platforms while Silas stumbled and nearly lost his balance several times.

By the time they reached the final stretch, a long run with hurdles, both were panting heavily. But Silas felt motivated, and kept going.

"Let's finish strong," Silas urged as they sprinted side by side towards the finish line.

Bonereghard's voice called out from behind them, urging them forward with calm authority. "Push through! Show me your resolve!"

With a final burst of energy, they cleared the last hurdle together and came to a halt, chests heaving from exertion. Silas bent over with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath while Diog shook out his fur.

Bonereghard approached them slowly, "You have done well," he said plainly. "Both of you."

Silas patted Diog on the head. "You did great today."