After the blond man left, only Vince and his father remained in the room. Vince was staring at his father cursing him for how shamelessly he had just basically sold his own son.

His father, Rupert Dawmond, unaware of what the child was thinking, picked him up and gave him a big smile.

“Good boy, you just saved your father a huge amount of trouble. You better grow strong before that damned old coot comes back asking for a refund. I would have told him we adopt a no refund policy, but my life was at stake so I refrained…”

‘Yes, good father, give this son a cultivation law. You don’t want him to find me weak right? As long as I’m an acceptable product he won’t ask for a refund.’

“Let’s see, hmm… I shall assign you to instructor Tyrak”

‘Damn, have I become a psychic? I should try to participate in a lottery one of these days…’

“Well, time to bring you back to your room.”

He then proceeded to go out of the room and carry his son to his room. Too bad he couldn’t see the smile that was plastered on his son’s face.

The next morning, Vince saw a middle-aged man with white hair and a muscular build. The man carried a big sword sheathed in the scabbard that hung behind his back, and overall gave the feeling of someone who experienced many battlefields. He had a short white beard, and his left eye had a scar probably left behind by some sort of blade, giving him all the more the looks of a warrior. Just beside him was his father, who was currently explaining a few things to the middle-aged man.

“Yes, that is the child you’re going to have to train. He’s going to the von Sideria family, so be sure to make him turn out at least decent.”

“The von Sideria? What? Are you sure they are going to be satisfied with him? I thought they would have preferred someone with a more solid status… Those high ranking nobles are so nit-picky when it comes to such things.”

“Well, that made me surprised as well… Maybe that was his way to tell me that I owe him a favour now… Well, I’m gonna repay it by giving him someone that at least knows somewhat how to fight.”

“Well, that aside, how much time do I have to make him learn something?”

“Roughly four years. Once he turns five, they will come to pick him up to make him go through their own internal training, but that doesn’t focus on combat but rather on his duties, so you have to be the one doing the work.”

“Hell… and what level do you think would be considered acceptable?”

“Well… At least he should learn the basics of martial arts, and learn the operating principles of mana. Forget about having him start to cultivate already though. Only once in a decade talents manage to do that. But that would still be considered among the worst we have ever sent…”

“I’m already starting to have a headache… I doubt an illegitimate child can be talented enough to even achieve one out of two requirements…”

“That’s also why I was happy to send him away… I don’t have very high expectations for him, but the Protector who came yesterday thought otherwise.”

“Well, that’s good then, I’ll try my best anyway, but I can’t promise any results.”

“Let’s leave it at that then… Oh, look who just woke up.”

“Pa…Papa”

“Oh, he can already speak… Maybe at least he’s not an idiot.”

‘What kind of father would say that to his own child? I’m always getting more impressed over how little a father can care… I understand you having a few dozen children… But at least don’t treat me like some sort of good!’

“Well, I’ll leave him to you then.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Vince’s father then left, and only he and the instructor remained in the room.

“Well… First, I should teach you how to speak and read…, and I better get a few wooden swords. The sooner you start swinging a sword around, the better.”

And thus, Vince now had a teacher. His newly acquired teacher then proceeded to go out of the room, just to be back a few minutes later with a pile of wooden weapons. Following him was an old man, dressed like a scholar, with a pile of books in his arms.

“This is the kid you have to teach old Mo, you can take the room to the right. From now on, both you and I are going to be assigned to this task all day long.”

“Understood. Could you help me bring over my bookshelves later?”

“Sure.”

Vince looked at both of them absentmindedly as they brought over piles and piles of stuff for the rest of the day. Apparently, Instructor Tyrak was also married. He had a few men bring over a double bed, and there was a woman who looked in her late thirties following him. As soon as the woman saw the child, she immediately rushed and picked him up before pinching his cheeks and starting to speak in a stupid sounding manner.

“Who’s a good boy? Oh, you are a good boy!”

‘I’m not a dog you psycho! And stop swinging my head around, you’re going to make me throw up! You already have your own children to use as dolls, so please leave me alone!’

As if she read his thoughts, she put him in his bed, before following her husband in the room next to the one they were currently in.

‘Did I really acquire psychic powers? What the hell?!’

More like she noticed his discomfort…

The following day instructor Tyrak proceeded to put a wooden sword in his hands. Vince then started to play around with it, while trying to look the best he could like a child who had never touched a sword. That was a tough thing for him, as making precise sword strikes was at this point a second nature for him.

One could say he was more concentrated in trying to fail sword strikes rather than making them right. His childlike body really helped him a lot though, as his muscles were still very undeveloped, resulting in a bit of trembling and swaying.

In the afternoon, the instructor tried to teach him to run while he kept faking his childish act. He had a way easier time here because it seemed like slipping was almost a second nature to him… Every five steps he’d take he would stumble and fall face first.

‘Curse this body! I look like a real child now! Even if I try my best, I cannot avoid skidding!’

Vince cursed in his head in such a way for the whole afternoon…

In the evening, old Mo started to read him cultivation stories and legends, some of which he had never found in the library. And thus, another round of cursing began.

“There was once upon a time, a legendary figure who was called Arthur Brooks.”

‘Why have I never heard of him? Who’s that greedy bastard who keeps the books to himself? Give. Me. BOOKS.’

“It is said that this man once swept through all of the Rosen Empire. He had unfathomable cultivation, and every attack he launched seemed to be accompanied by a Dragon. The Emperor of the time was defeated within ten moves by this figure, and he had to seek his ancestors’ assistance. When three of the guardian ancestors of the Empire came out, even together they were unable to defeat Arthur Brooks.

But by paying a hefty price, they managed to inflict a major injury to the young hero who seemed to be favoured by the heavens. Arthur then ran away with his life, and nobody heard of him again. A single figure managed to force the strongest secular power in the radius of a hundred thousand miles during a crisis over the course of three days, and this figure had no background whatsoever. This incident became the prime example of how this world is filled with crouching tigers and hidden dragons.”

At this point, old Mo already had a face that showed longing and how much he liked those stories. He probably had once dreamt of sweeping through the Empire and shocking the world with an incredible martial prowess, and yet now here he was, a mere teacher working for a small noble family in a backwater country such as Flossen.

‘What an interesting story. I have to get him to tell me all the stories he knows and where he learnt them. It’s already been a month since I last found a book I had yet to read. Maybe this guy could help me…’

“Well for tonight this is enough! Now go and sleep, tomorrow a long and tiring session of training awaits you! Who knows, maybe one day you will also manage to accomplish an impossible feat and become a legend!”

‘Don’t force your dreams onto me old man! And don’t worry I already had plans of my own about sweeping through everything! Forget Arthur Brooks, even the first emperor will be nothing in comparison!’

The old man then proceeded to turn off the mana lamp which was on the side of the bed and left.

‘Nevertheless, maybe all of this is a good thing. I get to train my body without having to hide lest I get found out.’

And, while thinking over his plans again, that had gone awry because of a slip, he fell asleep.