"I'm glad you could make it," Roland said sarcastically, a smirk on his handsome face. "I hope Sir Valter has explained how we do things here well enough?"

"Yes." Reivan nodded, but then tilted his head. "But I thought your mother was very sickly...? If that's so, then how come she has a tree here along with the knights?"

His big brother smiled wryly and scratched his cheek, seemingly embarrassed.

The black-haired prince was just about to reply when a stern and deep voice coming from above did it for him.

"Because Lara sacrificed her life to birth the first prince, boy. You'd do well to remember that. She's just as worthy of a place here as all these other numbskulls since she did such a service for our country even with her frail body."

'Who is it...?'

Looking up, Reivan saw a white-robed elderly man descend from the sky, floating on the same level as everybody standing atop the bridge of light. The lack of facial hair save for his thick eyebrows emphasized the lines on his aged face — which seemed more strict than what his voice let on. His piercing grey eyes could make even the most beastly of men behave under his gaze while his ability to fly made it apparent that he was an Ascendant — a person one step below the pinnacle of power in this world.

Reivan could swear to god that this man belonged to an ancient roman army, telling emperors to give him twenty pushups. The short sword that looked oddly similar to a gladius in the man's hand only served to reinforce this image in Reivan's mind.

Suddenly, the dream crystal on Reivan's wrist blinked for a moment, sending a telepathic message straight to his mind. It was a message from Valter, and it was a message with a single sentence in it.

 

[Your Highness, whatever you do, do not make any hair-related comments about this man.]

 

'Hair-related...? I mean, I wasn't gonna say anything about it in the first place...'

Prompted by the message, Reivan briefly glanced at the man's head. Immediately, the man's receding hairline stood out, the white hair at the back struggling to hold on for dear life.

'Is he insecure about that kind of thing...?'

But now that he thought about it, if this man was an Ascendant, then that meant he was cursed by that receding hairline for eternity. That might really make anyone overly conscious about it.

'Poor old man...'

Reivan sympathetically prayed for the man. He even began to regret why he never drank one of those hair tonics that had commercials that seemed to predate on a middle-aged man's worries. Maybe they would be surprisingly effective on the people of this world.

Or better yet, Reivan could sell it to balding men for cheap.

Thankfully, the man did not seem to notice his staring. The elder stepped onto the bridge of light and performed an Aizenian salute that was the very definition of "crisp" and "perfect".

Reivan didn't even know that it was possible to perform such a simple salute in such a way. It felt as if all of the knights he'd seen perform that salute was still in the Mortal realm or the Ascendant realm when it came to performing salutes, but the man before them was an Archon at it.

"Well met, Sir Donovan." Roland smiled as he greeted the man amiably. "What brings you here on this fine day?"

'Donovan...?'

The name sounded awfully familiar. It was just at the tip of his tongue when he saw how his brother's smile was actually quite strained — Roland was just good at hiding the twitching. A quick glance behind him gave him a view of the very stiffened guardian knights, Gertrude's forehead was even slick with sweat as he looked around everywhere but the white-robed man's vicinity.

'It can't be...'

And that was when his memories clicked in place; Donovan was his trainer's name — the same Donovan that made both his father and his guardian knight act so strangely.

'It's him...?'

The man certainly looked quite formidable and strict, but there wasn't anything strange or scary about him, except for the somewhat rough words he'd used earlier.

'Geez. How many people are in on this joke?'

Naturally, he'd come to the conclusion that it was all some sort of trick to make him piss his pants before meeting his trainer — and maybe get Reivan to work more diligently during the actual training.

But his theories were shattered almost immediately.

"I'm here to trim some of these trees, Your Highness. They belong to a few of my ungrateful students." Donovan shook his head in obvious exasperation. "Who the hell told them to die single? Now I have to go around and clean up after their dead virgin asses. And the worst part? I can't even complain to those sacks of shit until I also keel over."

"I see... how admirable of you." Roland smiled warmly at the man's kind actions, seemingly ignoring the blunt phrasing.

"Although I'm ashamed to admit it, I was their teacher, so I feel obligated to give them attention from time to time," Donovan grumbled as he glared at some of the trees around the clearing. He then shook his head and eyed Roland up and down. "What about you, Your Highness? Does your wife still beat the shit out of you when you spar? I must say, it takes a special type of manliness to willingly place yourself under your wife's thumb."

'Wh-wh-what did he just say...!?'

Reivan's eyes almost bugged out of their sockets when he heard the venom that the man was spitting out. He'd never seen anyone outside of their family speak to a member of the royal family bluntly, and yet here was a man that was literally insulting them.

Despite the man's disrespect, Roland just laughed awkwardly as his shoulders sagged in dejection. "W-w-well... you see, I believe that my wife's strength is something to be proud of..."

"Is that right?" Donovan raised an eyebrow then nodded knowingly. "The newlywed royal couple is excellent as expected. I suppose the view from the bottom is good from time to time, isn't it, Prince Roland? Do try to push her down yourself from time to time, though. And don't let her do all the moving, it's better to give your hips some proper exercise from time to time. In any case, I wish the new royal couple good fortune in conceiving a child."

Roland staggered backward, his calm smile all but lost now. "Th-thank you for your well-wishes, Sir Donovan."

"Think nothing of it." The venomous elder waved him off magnanimously. "Oh, and do take that thing about the hips seriously, okay? You should move around while you're still young. Don't just lay there like a dead fish and let your very strong wife do all the moving. These are words of wisdom from the elderly, so it would do you well to remember them."

"Y-yes..." The crown prince nodded with a blank smile on his face.

Donovan then turned toward the only woman present, making Stella stiffen. "It's always a pleasure to see House Mercer's poster child. How have you been, Lady Stella?"

"I-I've been well... how about you, Sir Donovan?"

"Oh, I've been feeling like shit." The old man shook his head before directing a warm smile at the trembling woman. "There's this rumor about some sort of fan club for the queen and a surprisingly large amount of aspiring female knights have joined. It's disrupting morals, and it feels like it will affect the birth rate of our great nation. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you, Lady Stella?"

"I..." Stella's panic was palpable, but she tried her best to maintain a smile on her face as she feigned ignorance. "That sounds very troubling indeed. If there is anything I can do to help—"

"You know, it's funny that you said that, because I actually do have a favor to ask of you," Donovan interjected as he stared straight into Stella's eyes. "It would be great if you, the leader and founder of the aforementioned fan club, would stop your bothersome activities. Or at the very least, tone it down a little. Otherwise... I'll have to ask Sarina's aid in this matter."

"Anything but that!" Her mask of calm immediately broke as she pleaded with teary eyes. "Please don't tell the Matriarch!"

"It would be a real shame if she knew of this just before you got sent off to war, huh?" Donovan crossed his arms in front of his chest and nodded sagely. "Heck, she might even post you in the front lines long-term as punishment."

A look of horror crossed Stella's face as she meekly hung her head low. "I-I'll tell them to behave..."

"It's wonderful when we can properly communicate with words, isn't it? Thank you very much, Lady Stella. As expected of the Mercers' poster child, you know when it is best to advance and when it is wiser to retreat. This aspect will be very useful for you on the battlefield. Hopefully, it helps you return swiftly enough before your husband's eyes start to wander toward other women."

At this, Stella's eyes widened as her face snapped toward her husband.

"Y-you know that you're the only one for me..." Roland muttered defensively.

"I didn't say anything though? Why are you already making excuses?"

"Eep!"

Leaving the bickering couple to themselves, Donovan stepped toward Reivan's group before facing Roland's guardian knight with a smirk. "It's always a pleasure to see your face."

"I'm g-glad to hear it, Sir Donovan." Gertrude briefly saluted his senior before feigning calm as he asked, "I see that you're still in good health."

"By the grace of the ancestors, I am, indeed, in good health." The elder nodded before motioning toward his fellow knight. "What about you, do you still have a girl's name?"

The knight's face immediately faltered as he staggered backward, much like how his master had done.

"Judging from your reaction, it seems you still haven't changed it." Donovan shook his head in apparent disappointment. "I suppose it's all well and dandy when you want to respect your parents' naming choice, but I'm quite certain that they named you while you were still in the womb — and that they wanted a girl. But if you still wish to live up to their expectations, I actually know a good dress shop. I'll send you the location later."

Gertrude said nothing, apparently thinking that the elder would stop if he stayed silent.

He was wrong.

"I've also heard of a little shop that apparently sells a very fragrant lubricant, Gertrude. It will be very useful when you wish to take it up a notch from just cross-dressing. We don't want you injuring yourself after all."

"I w-would never!"

"Oh? So you've developed that area?" Donovan raised his brows in amazement. "As expected of someone selected as a guardian knight. You really go the extra mile."

Gertrude's face paled. "I meant that I would never do what you are implying!"

"Is that so? Well, that's what everybody who eventually tried it said before they tried it. Don't worry though, Gertrude. People can be surprisingly accepting. I'm sure everyone's opinions of you won't change too much even if you go ahead and follow your desires."

"They're not my desires though!?"

"It's unhealthy to bottle things up, Gertrude."

"I'm not!" Gertrude pleaded with teary eyes. "I swear it on the first king's name!"

Donovan looked shocked for a moment before shaking his head in exasperation. "You must really want to hide your true self if you're using the first king's name to lie like this..."

The knight with a girl's name covered his face in shame and frustration.

Seemingly having had enough of pounding Gertrude to the ground, Donovan faced Valter with a respectful expression. "It has been a while, Senior Valter."

"...Yes, it has." Valter nodded, but one could see that he was choosing his words very carefully. "Sir Donovan, I've heard tales of your excellent students."

"Oh? Only good things, I hope."

"Very good things."

"Well, that's wonderful. I'm actually expecting quite a lot from a few of them, especially a girl named Gwendolyn. She's particularly sharp, that one. Perhaps, it's a bit exaggerated, but for me, It would not be strange if she became a Transcendent one day."

Valter's eyes widened. "To make you have such an opinion of her... she must really be an outstanding recruit."

"Indeed. She's a bit of a Mama's Girl, but that's not necessarily a bad thing." Donovan's lips curled into a soft smile for a brief instant before turning into a smirk. "Speaking of Transcendents, shouldn't it be about time for you to become one, Sir Valter?"

The purple-haired knight's face stiffened. "That's... well, I'm trying my best, but these types of things take time..."

"So even a thousand years is not enough?"

"W-well, it's dependent on the person, really."

"Yes, that seems to be the case, if one looks at the current Transcendents." Donovan rubbed his chin. "But if I remember correctly, both of the Sormon Transcendents are younger than you, no?"

"Th-that's..." Valter nodded weakly. "Well, yes, they are...."

"I see. Good for them, don't you think?"

"...Indeed."

The two said nothing more after that. Donovan's sharp grey eyes stared into Valter's purple ones. As time went on though, the beads of sweat resting on Valter's forehead continued to increase.

Soon, it seemed that the guardian knight could no longer resist the pressure of the elderly knight's gaze and the implications behind them.

Valter hung his head low and spoke with a voice that trembled just a little. "I'll try my best, Sir Donovan..."

'Holy shit... he literally tore Sir Valter down with silence!'

Reivan gulped as he watched, praying that the old knight would not direct his attention to him. After all, the venomous man had even destroyed two other members of the royal family fearlessly.

Donovan obviously did not give a crap about status. It would not be surprising if he cared not for age, either.

"Wonderful." The elderly knight smiled a smile that looked more like a beast baring its fangs. "Now, I don't enjoy putting so much pressure on you, especially since you're so much older than me, but I hope you're aware that..."

Donovan ran his eyes through the surrounding trees, his aged eyes hiding complicated thoughts behind them. "Plenty of people — including people like me — who see no chance of crawling up to the next level, can only place their faith in people like you to secure Aizen's prosperity. I realize the hypocrisy behind expecting something from someone arbitrarily like this... but still."

Looking up, Valter regarded the man in front of him with shock for a moment before shaking his head. "Please pay it no mind. I also have expectations for myself... it's just that I'm finding it much harder than I first thought."

"Well, you'll get there eventually. I believe in you, Sir Valter." Donovan spoke surprisingly encouraging words before turning to face the only other person he hadn't disparaged yet. "Now then. My apologies for coming to talk to you last, Your Highness, Prince Reivan."

Reivan's back instinctively straightened under the old knight's sharp gaze. "O-oh, I don't really mind... Sir."

'Rather, I'd really be grateful if you could just go ahead and completely ignore me, actually...'

"Such a show of magnanimity at such a young age..." Donovan smiled before he performed another Aizenian salute. "The royal family's excellence never fails to leave me in awe. Although I wish it was the good kind of amazement all the time, I suppose we can't have everything we want, can't we, Prince Roland?"

Roland — who was getting shaken around by his wife — twitched at suddenly being mentioned again, seeming to have considered that his "turn" was over.

"Y-yes, Sir Donovan. It's truly a shame..."

"Indeed it is." The elderly knight nodded before speaking to Reivan again. "I believe you've been made aware that you shall train under me soon, Prince Reivan?"

Reivan wanted to nod meekly but stopped himself and instead chose to speak in a loud voice while keeping his back ramrod straight. "Yes sir!"

"Good. Now, although I understand the gap between our statuses, and believe me when I say that I hold only respect in my heart when it comes to the royal family, however, I am of the opinion that we should throw those distinctions away while training. I wonder, what is your opinion about this matter?"

"I completely agree, sir!"

"Excellent." Donovan nodded as he smiled down at him. "It even seems like you have rehearsed the proper behavior for a recruit. This pleases me greatly, Your Highness. I think our sessions will be very productive."

Reivan beamed while releasing the tension in his body. "Thank you."

"Hm? What was that?"

"I mean!" Reivan's back immediately snapped straight again. "Thank you, sir!"

With a satisfied nod, Donovan started floating in the air. "Well, I won't disturb you any longer. I also still have quite a few trees to trim down, since they might start stealing nutrients from the other trees... which reminds me, " Donovan said to his future trainee. "Our lessons will have to start tomorrow, instead. I heard you were quite excited to start training, so I'm sorry to disappoint you, Your Highness."

'Really...!?'

Reivan found himself unexpectedly sighing in relief deep down inside, despite his impatience to get stronger.

But still, he tried his best to maintain his impression of a stick while replying, "Sir! It's not a problem! Sir!"

"Thank you for your understanding." Donovan gestured outward at the towering trees around them. "Even though they were ingrates who had the audacity to die before me, they were all my students at some point. This is a job I'd rather do myself — with my own hands."

Reivan couldn't help but mirror the warm smile on the old knight's face — the smile that the knight was likely wearing unawares.

'I guess this guy has a soft side too...'

He couldn't help but think that maybe getting trained by this man wouldn't be so bad after all. Just like Valter, there was most likely some reason for the knight's... strange way of interacting with everyone. Reivan just didn't know it yet — and perhaps he never would.

As Donovan turned to leave, Reivan acted on his newfound curiosity for his future mentor by using [Supreme Insight].

'Please don't have something weird...'

 

 

'Oh?'

The knight surprisingly did not have any elemental affinities, but he had two very interesting abilities.

'The [Mentor's Insight] is obviously something for training people...'

It's purpose was fairly apparent, so Reivan put it on the back burner for now. What interested him more was Donovan's Special Ability. The man was known for his proficiency with regards to training up promising talents, so Reivan surmised that the ability had something to do with that.

Quickly, before the knight disappeared from his vision, Reivan used his [Supreme Insight] again.

 

 

'Emotional damage!? That's not about training at all!'