"Lord Viran."

 

A sweet voice forcibly entered Viran's ears as he swung his sword repeatedly at a wooden dummy in front of him.

 

Stopping all movement in a rough manner, Viran begrudgingly looks up and sees a servant of the House looking stern and displeased with him.

 

"Lord Viran. My Lord wishes to notify you that we will be hosting a banquet in two weeks. He wishes for you to display perfect behavior as a son of House Idicium. Were you to fail in that regard, he will be greatly displeased."

 

The disrespectful tone of the servant made Viran knit his eyebrows close together, but he remained motionless all the less. With a slight grunt in reply the servant hurriedly scurries away from Viran and leaves him there.

 

With a deep sigh the sword slips through his numb fingers and Viran staggers towards a well nearby. For the entirety of the day so far Viran had been honing his blade nonstop, with a firm attitude nonetheless.

 

It had been three days since he had last seen Gregory, and Viran hadn't begun training his spell since.

 

The book may not have mentioned it, but Viran had learned first hand on how overdrafting your mana deals a heavy blow to the body. While training his spell usage, blood began to spill out of all of my orifices in a way that was deeply frightening. Viran had thought he would die if the bleeding were not to stop, though luck was on his side and the bleeding eventually did stop.

 

Though the bleeding only stopped after his entire attire had already changed into a crimson color. He had gotten many odd looks from the servants after, though none bothered to inquire about his wounds.

 

Even after days had passed Viran still felt the harsh side effects of constantly draining his mana in a span of a few hours, his feet feeling like jelly and his fingertips were cold to the touch. A deep bruise had already formed over his chest where his magic circuit was located and the bruise had only become darker as the days went on.

 

Even now, Viran felt it was too early to train once more in his spell craft. But since Viran was going into the process blind, he had to find his limit one way or another. Viran couldn't be called brave in this regard, but more akin to reckless; the ways of magic should never be rushed into. But through this recklessness, Viran had miraculously made great strides in both his magic and swordsmanship. He could still not cast even a simple spell, but the feeling of grandeur he had been waiting for was growing nearer with every second he felt his mana move throughout his body. He felt he was getting closer to finding the answer to the final part of his spell.

 

His entire being shook with excitement from the prospect of finally learning his first spell.

 

Viran was too excited to keep a straight mind while thinking about the amazing new spell he will have. Viran wanted to make a spell that would increase his overall speed and agility.

 

In actuality, the spell that Viran was working on was as simple as they come. Spell manuals of this level were quite common around the Empire and abroad. Though they were common, no one in the estate was willing to lose their job for Viran. For his case, neither resources nor supplies were in Viran’s favor.

 

His bruised hands reached forward and grabbed the rope of the pulley. Viran thinks with an absent mind as he pulls the bucket full of water out of the well. His small height tottering over the edge of the well’s wall barely manages to handle the weight of the large bucket. Finally a wooden cup finally dips deep into the water along with his small hand, the cold sensation surrounds the entirety of his debilitated hand.

 

Just as the water meets his lips, a harsh blow is felt throughout his entire body. Viran’s feet lift off the ground and promptly meets the ground once more a large distance away. The dirt around him is swept up in a frenzy from the sudden force and Viran’s body remains motionless in surprise and fear.

 

“Nghh.”

 

A soft groan of pain fills and exits Viran as he uses his arms to lift himself up in the direction where he was previously standing. His eyes bob in disbelief, prompting a small grin out of the figure in front of him.

 

With a helpless smile on his face, Gregory mockingly stares at Viran. His thin body was motionless as he leaned on the well to the right of his body. His mind was filled with thoughts of how refreshing finally doing this was.

 

“What? What? Gregory what was that for?” Said Viran, with a shocked expression drawn over his face.

 

Viran’s mind was in shambles from the unexpected attack. His clothes were soaked from the water and his nose could catch the faint stench of burning cloth. Turning his attention to his right hip his eyes become wide in astonishment.

 

His clothes were frayed and burnt black with the skin underneath forming a black residue. Viran could tell at a glance at what could have caused this, a spell. Gregory had used a spell on Viran. The effects of the spell were weak enough, but it had a fire aspect to it that allowed it to burn.

 

If that spell were to land on Viran’s bare skin, Viran would not be able to escape with light injuries.

 

Coming across that realization Viran’s heart underwent a series of emotions. Trepidation, agitation, and anxiety were plaguing his heart. Viran understood that if he fought back, in all likelihood he would be the one punished but if he didn’t fight back he would experience the pain of being burned by Gregory’s spell.

 

Viran wouldn’t be given the time to think things over as Gregory immediately sprang into action, clearing the distance between the two in a matter of seconds. In a hurried manner Viran rolls backwards and jumps to his feet and begins to run away from Gregory. A faint mocking giggle is heard immediately behind Viran and he spins around and his clenched fist drives forward with no heed. Before his fist can reach its mark, a warm feeling that quickly erupts to become scalding is felt on his stomach.

 

A scream tears through Viran’s lungs and echoes throughout the field.

 

Viran’s fist couldn’t reach Gregory and he himself was hit instead, being blasted multiple feet away. Tears begin to surge out of his eyes as he examines stomach, only to find streaks of blood trailing across his stomach. The skin was torn off and even breathing felt as though a hole was being driven through his skull. Viran’s eyes leave his wounds and they crawl up further.

 

Staring back directly at him is Gregory with a placid face worn. Gregory was frighteningly calm, a child as young as him should realize what he had just done. His eyes were fixated on the bleeding stomach, yet no emotions escaped him. Even seeing a wound as scary as that was not enough to make him jump. The young boy may simply not understand what kind of act he had committed just now, maybe he was just concealing the emotions held within. Perhaps he knew just what he had done, yet felt nothing from the scene in front of him.

 

The boy he had become fast friends with, squirming in pain and anguish in front of him. He caused this. Yet no emotion was released still. The two were in stark contrast, while one was filled with an apathy the other was filled with a harsh pain never felt before in his short life.

 

Viran’s eyes shake in apprehension as he sees Gregory’s feet walk closer to him. The blood was beginning to dry up and his wound had already begun to scab in parts across his stomach. Gregory had finally reached Viran and kneels down close to him. His hands uncurl and his palm is placed on the shin of Viran. His face turns towards Viran.

 

“This is a basic spell. Ignition Palm.” His words bear a fierce venom, dripping from every word.

 

The hand over Viran’s shin glows a deep crimson and another scream fills the field as the dust is brought up into the air. Viran’s shin felt on fire as a sweltering heat passed through his entire body as he tried to crawl away from Gregory, breaking open the infant scabs that had grown over his chest. His leg is held on by Gregory as he pulls Viran back, a harsh shock is felt through Viran’s entire body as he peers into the visage of Gregory. His black hair was untidied and was sprawled over his face. His once graceful and apathetic face now filled with a euphoria as a red blush was growing within his pale skin. His entire body was shaking as he lifted it up and released his grip over Viran.

 

“You tried to run when you can’t even use magic. I told you your place isn’t in swords and magic. I mean your superior, and every superior needs an underling that can write elegantly.” His face and body regains its calmness as he spoke. “You fit the criteria. Pity you couldn’t understand what position you were in, though I suppose you are more fit to place your attention to things like books and paper; not things like these.”

 

Every word was a crushing pain for Viran. The shock had faded and a serious anger quickly ran through his body faster than the fear within him ever had. His eyes began to turn bloodshot as his vision dimmed a considerable amount. His fist curls into a fierce ball.

 

“Screw you.” The restrained anger breaks within Viran as he growls out these words.

 

His clenched hands finally move at a shocking speed towards Gregory’s face. The pain within his shin and stomach was only an after thought for Viran as the punch lands square on the jaw of Gregory and spittle leaked out of his mouth. Once the punch finally landed the pain he had quelled before erupts in a never before seen fury and Viran falls onto his back once more.

 

Gregory’s apathy disappears and he leaps at Viran once again and lifts the young boy up by the collar. Before the retaliation commences, gasps and screams could be heard behind Gregory.

 

“Heavens!”

 

“Hurry, someone get Sir Spion!”

 

Gregory turns around and sees the forming of a crowd, filled with guards and servants alike. Faces of horror, pity, and anger were seen among all of those in the crowd, but none dared to intervene.

 

Seeing this Gregory’s face turns a different color. Fear grips him, yet still none dare come forward. Seeing this a small smile grows on Gregory’s face as he turns once more to Viran.

 

“No~ one~ dares~ help~” The ending of each word is drawn out, in a lighthearted tune.