Sir Hero, It’s Time to Train!

The Latima’s Chalice emitted a glow as if casting a disdainful look, questioning what he was doing.

Christian couldn’t help but chuckle at its lofty presence. That chuckle soon transformed into a smile.

“Alright. Let’s see who wins this!”

He shouted internally while clutching the Latima’s Chalice with determination.

Whether it was mana, impurities, or an Ether Weapon, in the end, they were merely ‘tools’ he had mastered better than anyone else.

I, Christian Worden.

Handled twelve kinds of Ether Weapons.

Was he really going to whimper, swayed by this bundle of mana?

“Don’t make me laugh.”

As Christian held the Latima’s Chalice, which emitted a faint glow at slow intervals, it suddenly shone brightly, illuminating the surroundings.

“For your own good, listen to what I am saying.”

He forcibly imbued himself with the power inherent in the Latima’s Chalice. No, it was holy energy that he thrust into his body.

The tidal wave of holy energy eroded his inner mana, enveloping the remaining impurities, and forcefully expelled them from his body.

He no longer felt pain.

However, a shock beyond physical pain struck his mind.

In the first place, the Latima’s Chalice, unlike other Ether Weapons, was fundamentally holy energy.

For Christian, who had never possessed even a speck of religious faith, using this Latima’s Chalice was an enormous mental burden.

Therefore, he rarely used it. It was just an item he kept, intending to eventually return it to the Latima Order.

But now it was different. He had to survive.

For that, he was willing to do anything.

Ironically, in order to survive, he had to risk his life. The Latima’s Chalice, which had failed to save his master, became a lifeline that could save himself.

Creak, crick.

His bones broke. No, they were turning into powder.

However, neither the immense pain nor the eerie sound registered with Christian at all.

Rustle, rustle.

His hairs fell out one by one.

While Christian, whose eyes were shut, couldn’t see them, he also felt no sensation from their loss.

His once vibrant skin turned rugged and dry, cracking and peeling away like moisture-less sand to become powder.

The muscles beneath his skin shrunk, clinging to his bones to the point they seemed emaciated.

His skeletal figure became so grotesque it hardly resembled a human, appearing as if hastily draped scraps of skin covered bones made for someone else entirely.

Despite this ghastly appearance, Christian continued to breathe.

“I can’t die. I can’t just end it like this.”

His unquenchable will to survive sought a way to keep living.

Christian’s life force made the Latima’s Chalice shine all the more brilliantly.

Holy energy, by nature, stemmed from unwavering faith.

Where that faith was directed, and where it pointed, determined who would be chosen by the holy energy and who would not.

“I will survive, I will live. I must live. Then…”

A belief in life.

“I will be with my master…”

An unwavering direction.

“I will save this world again.”

A righteous will.

The Latima’s Chalice responded to that belief and direction of will.

Though it was intended to be used for his master, who had refused the holy relic, it became the only path to save Christian, who was his master’s apprentice.

Creak— crick—

His bones, which had been breaking down to powder, returned to their rightful places.

Muscles that seemed glued to his bones swelled back, and skin that had turned into powder regenerated, covering his muscles once again.

His lost hair regrew, and new teeth emerged where they had crumbled away.

It was as if time had reversed.

No, it was a rebirth.

Everything was remade anew.

The Latima’s Chalice quietly observed Christian’s body being reborn anew.

Vibrant, lively hair.

Ideal muscles that were neither excessive nor lacking.

Skin with no scars or calluses.

New blood replaced the shed blood within his body.

And then…

Drip—!

A drop of liquid from the Latima’s Chalice fell onto Christian’s chest.

It appeared to be a signal, for a flame of mana, no larger than a firefly, ignited at his solar plexus. Though small, the flame was a confusing blend of diverse mana, resolute in its existence.

It appeared as if incompatible holy energy and mana were merged into a singular entity, much like the blue hue of the Fierce Demon Dragon’s blood.

As the Latima’s Chalice silently watched this flame of mana, it seemed to have completed its task and slowly returned to its original place.

Christian’s Ether Weapon, the Arsenal. Latima’s Chalice retraced its steps into the Arsenal, and as though anticipating its return, the doors of the Arsenal closed again.

Simultaneously, Christian’s body slumped forward, collapsing face-first onto the bed.

“Kuull…”

The earlier expression of pain vanished, leaving only a serene appearance, with soft breathing being faintly audible.

“Why isn’t he coming yet?”

It was early morning. She seemed thoroughly displeased, expressing her irritation through her entire demeanor.

“Overslept? No, surely not…”

With a deep frown, she crossed her arms, fixing her gaze on the entrance to the great training ground.

The great training ground was empty. Ordinarily, there would have been a person training there, assuming all sorts of bizarre poses, but today, there was no such person to be seen.

Should I wait a little longer? But why am I even waiting?

He might have overslept because he was tired, after all…

She continued to maintain her deep frown, her focus unyielding on the entrance.

And just as her frustration was about to reach its peak, with irritation ready to explode, someone entered the training ground, causing Aira’s expression to change dramatically.

“You’re late!”

Startled by her voice, the man who had taken a step back, looked at Aira, visibly confused.

“Pardon? Me?”

“… Sir Garcia?”

Garcia, who had entered the training ground, seemed flustered as he fished out a notebook to check his schedule. Watching him in bewilderment, Aira gritted her teeth and spoke.

“Ugh! Don’t make me feel like I’ve made a mistake!”

“Y-Yes? I am sorry…”

Had he done something wrong? No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t figure it out.

“I’ll be going first.”

Garcia bowed his head to apologize but cleared the way as if nothing had happened.

“Yes, please go ahead.”

Watching Aira swiftly pass him and exit the training ground, he let out a deep sigh.

“She wasn’t like this before…”

For some reason, since Christian, the young master, started acting strangely, miss Aira had also begun behaving oddly.

Is it possible for siblings to experience adolescence together?

While Aira was walking through the mansion’s interior, having left the training ground, many people had already begun their daily routines.

Many greeted her upon seeing her, yet no greetings were returned.

Much like her mother, not being very sociable from the start, she hadn’t managed to form any close friendships.

On the contrary, it seemed as though Aira found it challenging when people greeted her.

Quickly traversing the hallway of the mansion, Aira noticed a woman approaching from a short distance, causing her to halt in her steps.

After adjusting her attire, she approached first, bowing her head in greeting.

“Greetings Aunt.”

“My dear, didn’t I tell you to call me ‘Aunt’ instead of using such a formal tone?”

“Oh, no, but still…”

Neria, who treated Aira more warmly than her own mother, seemed difficult for Aira, who appeared visibly flustered.

Neria, observing this, gave a small laugh as if implying it was a joke.

“But, what brings you here at this hour? Isn’t it time for you to be at the training ground?”

“Ah, well.”

Aira hesitated for a moment, cautiously observing Neria’s reaction.

“Christian didn’t show up at the training ground. I was curious if something happened….”

“Oh my, really? Our Chris isn’t the type to oversleep.”

Neria tilted her head in puzzlement, then brightly smiled and said.

“Shall we go and check together?”

“What?”

“Come on, let’s go.”

“Oh, no, wait….”

Aira tried to protest, but she was already being dragged off by Neria’s hand.

She looked back at Milly, the maid following them, pleading for help, but Milly merely turned away indifferently.

Ultimately unable to shake off Neria’s grip, Aira resigned to the situation and headed toward Christian’s room as Neria led her.

“So, then….”

“Wait a moment. Lady Neria! You must knock! Knock first!”

“Ah….”

Attempting to fling open the door, Neria quickly switched to knocking at Milly’s urgent prompting.

“Um? Is no one there?”

Yet, there was no response from inside the room, and Neria couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Oh well, who cares!”

“My lady! What if you see something you shouldn’t again!”

“That won’t happen!”

“It has happened before. Please don’t erase it from your memory.”

Despite Milly’s earnest plea, Neria paid no heed and swung the door open, stepping inside.

Milly followed with a sigh, and Aira reluctantly stepped in cautiously.

And then….

“Close the door!”

“What?”

Neria’s sudden command startled Aira, who reflexively reached for the door. However, Milly was quicker and slammed it shut.

“Um, aunt?”

Standing there trembling, Neria was oddly silent, her gaze fixed on one point.

Following Neria’s line of sight, Aira’s eyes landed on the bed. In that instant, Aira, too, was frozen in shock, her eyes widening.

‘Was he attacked?!’

The bed was in complete disarray. A mysterious black and red stain had changed the hue of the bed and blankets.

Moreover, Christian sprawled face down in a starfish position, enough to evoke dark thoughts about his condition.

Aira tried to examine Christian’s state, but she couldn’t.

A small hand blocked her. As soon as she confirmed the owner of that hand, Neria Worden’s face, Aira’s complexion turned pale.

“Forget.”

“What, what?”

The intense determination in Neria Worden’s teal eyes was overwhelming. Attempting to convey that resolve, Neria Worden spoke.

“Forget everything you saw here. Erase it from your memory.”

While Aira was struggling to come up with a response to Neria’s unexpected demand, a mysterious sound came from the bed.

“Uh… Master… Please, no more drinks… Urgh….”

… Sleep talking?

Fortunately, Christian, lying on the bed, appeared unharmed, even snoring contentedly.

Aira turned her head to look at Milly, who had already shut her eyes tightly and covered her ears, seemingly in denial of reality.

“….”

“If the rumor spreads that my kid messed up, I’ll bite my tongue and die.”

Aira nodded in response to Neria’s words, feeling the sincerity behind them.

‘Perhaps all mothers are like this?’