Apollo sat down on the lawn after a brief pause, his arms were still aching from the harsh hits. His frail body could barely withstand the force of impact created by his own blows; he still had a long way to go. It didn’t occur to him that he was actually doing quite well for a 6-year-old, abnormal almost.

“Say, lad, where did you learn that stance from?” asked Grieswald as he stroked his messy beard.

“I didn’t learn it, grandpa, I just imitated a young man that I saw at the Warrior’s guild.”

“Warrior’s guild huh? Yes, that’s a good start although a bit unrefined, I’d say you did well to copy their behaviors,” said the reminiscent man. “Should you have the time, I suggest joining that guild”.

“Does that mean I won’t be joining the military?” beamed Apollo, almost teary-eyed.

“That, I can’t change” he laughed. “You know how your father is, once he has you in the palm of his hands, even Adam & Eve don’t stand a chance in freeing you! Sorry lad.” He remarked, lightly patting the shoulders of Apollo.

The young boy hung his head low, devastated, ‘Well at least I tried,’ he thought. This was one of Apollo’s strong points, he never gave up on trying. It was something he has acquired from modern-day Earth where every given opportunity should be held in one’s reach. He learned this the hard way during the job-searching campaign. He was thankful that he managed to persuade his old 7/11 manager in hiring him due to his endless persistence. You could say that he was similar to Tyranir in that regard.

“Say grandpa, what did you think of my performance?” he asked with an active enthusiasm.

The old man looked at him surprised, he thought the young boy would complain right about now just like his stubborn sister, “It was an alright performance lad” he chuckled.

“Hitting your opponent to the point he can’t retaliate is a very thought-out plan, if you were stronger maybe you might have even forced my other hand but before then I would have already cut you down given your small stature” he grinned, in fact, he was surprised the young boy could think of this plan, he noticed a long time ago that the boy was planning on not giving him any opportunities to strike back but in actuality, he had ample opportunities to do so, however, he didn’t wish to interrupt the child’s learning process.

“Your body is your greatest weakness right now, if you had at least a tenth of my strength then I would kick at my opponents shield or even tackle him using momentum to knock him off his feet, that would create an opening and-“ *whoosh*, Grieswald slashed at empty air visually showing Apollo his game plan.

“Decapitate him…..,” the elder man muttered after placing his sword back into his scabbard. He glanced at the surprised boy and sighed, “Right, your body is what’s lacking” he said pointing at the boy’s developing body.

“Ri-Right” replied Apollo silently, he was slightly frightened the moment he witnessed the unassuming man’s fleeting blood lust. It was his first time seeing Grieswald release the killing intent from his usually kind face. He didn’t even see the movement of the sword as it slashed out, however, he did feel the wind generated by it and that murderous aura that made his hair stand up. This was a man nearing his seventies!

“How about it? ready for another round?” he chuckled, smashing his shield.

Apollo looked up and slapped his face as an act of encouragement, “It would be my pleasure, grandpa” he shouted standing up with his sword readily pointing at the metallic shield.

 

[1 hour later]

“A drink young master?” Alfred said, offering a cold cup of water to the beaten lad on the ground.

The boy lightly opened his eyes, “T-Thank…you...Alfred,” Apollo exhaustingly uttered as he sat up and received the glass before hastily drinking it. “Where’s grandpa?” he gasped looking around the peaceful garden.

“Master Grieswald has returned to the manor for breakfast roughly 5 minutes ago.”

“Is that so….I must have passed out, say, Alfred, did I ever hit grandpa?” he tried to recall but he was too preoccupied on the shield that he lost track of his progress.

Alfred was silent for a while, he struggled on whether he should say the truth or not, he hesitated, however, Apollo noticed this slight delay and instantly knew the answer, “I didn’t hit him once at all, is that right?”

“That’s correct, out of the 6,743 hits, all of them were either parried or blocked by master Grieswald” he replied with a hint of embarrassment. He tried to cheer up the downcast boy but to his surprise, before he could say anything, Apollo heedlessly said,

“Well, that’s alright, I didn’t expect to hit him on my first try anyway,” stretching his overworked arms, standing up, he started walking towards a specific direction, “Come, let's visit the fields”.

“Your will is my command”, Alfred chuckled, mentally sighing.

“Stop with the honorifics!” shouted the boy, of course, Alfred pretended not to hear this.

The two individuals made their way around the Heimarch estate saluting nearby guards on the way until they reached a quiet field of grass stretching for at least a kilometer. It was one of the many empty fields, the Heimarch’s owned.

Once arriving, Apollo took off his shoes and started stretching on the spot, this action confused the loyal butler, but he just chose to say nothing and observe the interesting boy.

“Fancy a light jog, Alfred?” Apollo remarked before taking off along the perimeter of the empty field, barefoot.

“An easy request sir” he smiled chasing the young boy, catching up to him within the blink of an eye.

Apollo took this as a challenge and gained speed, but to his surprise, Alfred kept to his right side mimicking his slow speed. Apollo could only mentally sigh at the sight of this, he knew it was pointless trying to beat a mysterious butler in a race, thus he focused on his pace, slowing down to a comfortable speed as he looked forwards keeping a steady breathing technique. He was using the Wim Hof skill simultaneously as he jogged, time was limited in his view, so he made the most out of it.

 

[1 hour, 30 minutes later]

 

“A-Alright….thats..enough” gasped Apollo, stopping in his tracks as he bent down trying to catch his breath.

“Mister Timothy will arrive in roughly 10 minutes young master,” remarked the infuriating butler in a comfortable manner. He was not tired in the slightest, he didn’t even break a sweat throughout the run. ‘fucking monster’, thought Apollo.

“Oh right, Sir. Timothy, I forgot, it’s Monday today”. Much like the education system on Earth, school days went from Monday to Friday while the breaks occurred on the weekends. Likewise, the same went with private tutoring. His parents were rich thus they could afford private tutelage, they felt that it was necessary as the son of a count.

‘Even in this world, I can’t escape school,’ Apollo thought to himself. “Come, Alfred, let's not tarry, else mother would hear none of it”.

Back in the manor, Apollo quickly washed his face and changed into another set of clothes before waiting in the extravagant great hall of the manor. Roughly 5 minutes later, a haggard man in his fifties walked through the door greeting his student. He had greying brown hair, tired eyes, his posture slightly bent due to age and he wore a long silk grey robe that extended to his ankles.

“Afternoon Apollo” he ushered.

Apollo stood up, “Likewise, mentor” he bowed, his right arm across his stomach, fist closed and his left arm facing behind him, open-palmed facing the ceiling and his right foot behind his left, a simple noble greeting.

“I fear, this week is our last week together,” he said sitting down opposite the young boy. “So I brought this book for you as sort of a present and a reminder of me, a keepsake if you will,” he took out a leather-backed book from his satchel and placed it on the table in front of Apollo.

“Thank you, mentor,” he gleamed taking the book in his hands, written at the top was titled, “Promethia: Universal language of Greiss”. Apollo stared at the book excitedly, this was a highly sought-after book that only those of nobility had access to. The only alternative way to get this book was through the infamous academies across Greiss.

“Go ahead, open it” chuckled the humble man, “I left things in there, I’m sure you’ll like what I’ve done”.

Apollo eagerly opened the book to its first chapter and found notes written at the sides of the page in the handwriting of his mentor, sentences that gave useful tips and advice. He flicked through every page and found that there were similar notes throughout the entire book, he was pleasantly surprised.

“You like it? With those sentences, you should be able to learn the language of Promethia in under 3 years, should you take it seriously, that which I’m sure you will do.”

“I love it, I shall once again thank you from the bottom of my heart!”, Apollo happily replied.

“My pleasure young man, you’re very gifted in the scholarly ways, it is only my desire to see you thrive, now flick to the first page, I shall try my best to guide you in this last week”. He smiled, feeling somewhat sympathetic that his student will attend a military institution.

“Understood mentor, Likewise, I will do my best to learn”.

The book was split into three parts, the first two hundred pages illustrated the basics of Promethia such as the correct ways to pronounce words, its written letters, and how to construct basic compound sentences. The second part was based around the written skills which consisted of roughly one hundred and fifty pages. Lastly, the last part of the book covered the various rules of the language which was crammed into the last two hundred pages.

Timothy taught the boy with enthusiasm as he felt that the young boy was an extremely intelligent ‘sponge’, he believed that Apollo had this ability to retain information like a genius. Little did he know that Apollo was using the system and its Encyclopaedia function to almost cheat his way through the learning curve. As a matter of fact, Apollo felt that he would learn the language in under 2 years which included calligraphy. Having been learning the Eretrian language, Apollo became increasingly efficient in learning different languages.

“Mentor I have a question.”

“You may speak your mind,” he said sitting upwards.

“The introduction part of the book did not include the history of Promethia, may I ask why?”

Timothy raised his right brow and smiled, “As expected of my student, you are correct, the book does not specify the language’s origin and the answer is simple; we don’t know who created it nor do we know how it came about in the first place. It’s more than likely that records based around its origin have been destroyed in the past, for what reason? We simply don’t know, perhaps it was intentionally destroyed by the creators. Some say that a God created this language, but this reason is likely fabricated. I suspect that it came from a lost or destroyed civilization of the past but the answer is inconclusive, all we know is the fact that it has existed for a very long time”.

“Is it true that all the races know of this language?” Apollo asked with uncertainty, he felt a need to make sure.

“Although I have not traveled across the continents, I’m confident that all races study this language. However, you must take into consideration the degree of knowledge across the different races, for example, the orcs are generally combat reliant thus their knowledge-based around Promethia may as well be non-existent, the same goes for the other intelligent-lacking races”.

“I see, may I ask a different unrelated question?”, Apollo looked at the man seriously.

Looking at the troubled expression on the boy, Timothy felt intrigued, “Go ahead, I’m all ears”.

“What can you tell me about the Immortals”, he asked in a low voice.

Timothy laughed aloud when he heard the question, “That is something I would wish to find out more about myself!”. He felt that the boy in front of him was much similar to the younger version of himself.

“Well, I can safely say that not much is known about the Immortals” he glanced at the dispirited boy and couldn’t help but continue, “In fact, their ‘Immortality’ is just a fabricated lie used to entice children like yourself, It’s more than likely that ‘Immortals’ only have the ability to live longer than your average mortal. I doubt that anyone can infinitely live through time unless you were a god”. He was sure of this.

“We simply do not know much about them because they are too rare to encounter and they likely don’t want to be found, most of them have varying appearances and it’s thought that they don’t have a default similarity apart from their so-called immortality, a human that has lived past 150 years can be considered an immortal. Therefore, you could say that Immortals aren’t specifically a race, but a term used to describe a group of people that live much longer.” Timothy was certain that if an immortal was to surface in Greiss, he or she would likely be hunted down for research purposes, in fact, he was silently eager to find one himself for obvious reasons.

“Thank you for deliberating, mentor”. Apollo felt somewhat satisfied at the new information regarding the Immortals, he didn’t really expect much from a countryside tutor, he speculated that the infamous academies would likely have the information he would like to know about the mysterious race.