Bruno stepped out into the expansive garden, divided into two sections—front and back. The portion behind the estate surpassed the one in front of it in size and grandeur. Paved alleys meandered through the lush greenery, leading to various destinations. Along the way, fountains glistened and bursts of vibrant flowers and eye-catching bushes adorned the landscape.

At this early hour, the morning sun timidly peered over the horizon, casting a gentle glow. A few fluffy clouds drifted lazily from the direction of the sea. After spending days underground, the sight was invigorating, but the true delight came in the form of the cool breeze caressing Bruno's skin—a common occurrence in waterfront areas.

Already present in the garden, Mamadou stood with his arms folded across his muscular chest, clad in his customary dark vest. However, what caught Bruno off guard was the company he kept. Javohir, awestruck by the opulence and vastness of the garden and estate, stood by Mamadou's side, his eyes wide and mouth agape. He appeared like a child lost in a confectionery, unable to comprehend the magnificence around him. His attention flitted from one marvel to another, causing him to stumble and walk as if intoxicated.

"Is he alright?" Mamun inquired, approaching Bruno from behind, his gaze fixed on the bewildered slave.

The words acted as a cold shower for Javohir, instantly snapping him to attention. He stood rigidly, unable to meet the old man's gaze.

"He has never witnessed a place like this," Mamadou explained, addressing the archmage.

"Why did you bring him?" Bruno questioned directly, halting just a few steps away from his former mentor.

"You need a sparring partner, and I don't fight with people less skilled than me. It only leads to your technique getting worse, because you are not challenged properly," the former assassin elucidated.

"Consider it a bonus," added Mamun. "I have tasks to attend to, so focus on your training. Just ensure my boy remains unharmed. No blows to the head…"

With that, the archmage turned and headed back toward the estate. The three who remained stood in silence, waiting until Mamun disappeared from view.

"I don't know how you ended up here, but I must say it's quite an accomplishment. Working under the archmage himself," Mamadou remarked.

"Let's just say I had limited options," Bruno muttered.

"I can see the lack of choice around your neck," the man agreed. "But he does seem to value whatever you do, considering the trouble of bringing us here."

"He became curious about my alchemical skills and decided to put them to the test. I was able to surpass his expectations and earn myself a reward," Bruno explained.

"And this is what you chose?" the man couldn't conceal his surprise.

"I chose what I chose," the boy curtly replied, cutting short the conversation.

A fleeting smile graced Mamadou's face. "Yes, you did. Let's begin then... How's your physical condition?"

"Worse than you remember," Bruno admitted.

The former assassin nodded slowly in acknowledgment. "In that case, let's start with small steps. Some jogging and simple exercises should be enough for today. Tomorrow we'll assess how your body responds, and then we can truly get started. Does that sound good to you?" he asked.

"You're the trainer. I'll follow your lead," the boy agreed.

Without further ado, Mamadou set off running, and Bruno promptly joined him, with Javohir trailing behind. However, the slave swiftly caught up with the young alchemist.

"I knew you were someone amazing the moment I saw you for the first time," Javohir remarked. "And now I see that I wasn't wrong."

"Amazing? Why am I amazing?" the boy inquired.

"Why? Look at this place! It's incredible, and you get to live here," Javohir exclaimed, unable to contain his excitement. "And on top of that, you brought us here."

"Javohir, a golden cage is still a cage. Its value, compared to freedom, is worth less than dust," Bruno responded, a pitying smile forming on his lips.

He almost laughed at his former sparring partner, but at the last moment, he restrained himself. After all such a reaction was far from polite, and burning the bridges in his situation would be beyond foolish.

"Maybe... But I've never had a golden cage. I've always had the ordinary one," Javohir argued.

Those words struck a chord within the young alchemist. He realized he lacked the perspective of someone who had never experienced wealth. It served as a reminder and a lesson—one he should remember in the future.

The training session continued, taking the trio through the entire garden and back. They ran along the paved alleys, passing fountains and clusters of vibrant flowers and eye-catching bushes. After a rigorous run, they transitioned to upper-body stretches and various exercises. With the training concluded, Bruno made his way back to the basement of the estate, ready to immerse himself in his work.

He could feel the difference in how his brain operated. Delving into his research felt instinctual, and he made swift progress, devouring a substantial portion of the notes given to him while meticulously jotting down his own observations. His focus centered on the topics that required further exploration in the library, aiming to deepen his understanding.

Late into the night, he finally finished and headed straight to his room, seeking a moment of respite. It was the time for reflection and contemplation, a time to bring forth the thoughts that had emerged throughout the day and had been momentarily set aside.

Most of his thoughts revolved around Javohir's presence. Bruno remained uncertain whether the slave's inclusion was at Mamadou's initiative, as the man had claimed, or if it was merely a facade orchestrated by Mamun. Perhaps the old man desired a pair of watchful eyes to oversee the young alchemist. Acquiring the slave boy seemed like a reasonable idea.

Alternatively, it could be the burgeoning paranoia of someone desperate to regain their freedom, willing to engage in a dangerous game to achieve their goal. It was a question that Bruno had often posed to himself in his previous life—a question that had kept him grounded despite the countless audacious and near-impossible feats he had undertaken while rebuilding his family's empire.

Such contemplations brought a smile to his face, as it rekindled a sense of self amid the turmoil. It was the feeling of being in control of the situation, even amidst chaos, like a skilled sailor guiding his ship out of a tempest with unwavering confidence that surpassed that of any other crew member.

"I will build my empire here," he eventually whispered to himself, the words imbued with determination. And with that, he closed his eyes, allowing sleep to swiftly claim him.