We arrived at the Earl Nargar family residence.

  The residence was magnificent and large, surpassing Otsman's castle in Lahyana, though still smaller than the Royal Castle in the capital. Aegis City itself appeared very prosperous and peaceful, with thick defensive walls and soldiers moving about with high discipline.

  "Please descend, Your Excellency and Princess Isabel," greeted a man dressed as a butler. Though middle-aged, his body still looked robust and mighty, as if the servant's uniform concealed steely muscles beneath.

  He watched me descend from the carriage with a questioning gaze: Who was this unfamiliar young man?

  "Izak, you must be wondering who he really is, aren't you?" said Earl Nargar to his butler as we walked toward the main building.

  "I wouldn't dare presume, Your Excellency."

  "Izak, do you remember when you proposed to your wife back then?" the Earl asked suddenly.

  "I remember, Your Excellency. At that time, she was the village's favored beauty. But her father, a war veteran, made all suitors struggle because of his duel requirement."

  "Izak, in your opinion... should this tradition still be maintained?" the Earl asked again, this time glancing briefly toward me.

  "Yes, Your Excellency. Tradition is our honor."

  "Of course, Father! Shouldn't tradition be continued?" chimed in Princess Isabel enthusiastically.

  "But what if someone doesn't know this tradition, accidentally engages in it, and refuses to accept the outcome? What should be done?" the Earl probed.

  Izak answered firmly, "If they are outside this city, they should be able to refuse. But if they have already set foot in this city, then they must accept it. That is Aegis law."

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  "Hahaha! An excellent answer, Izak. Continue your hard work."

  That conversation cornering me ended as we arrived inside the castle. The Earl ordered servants to give me a guest room, and to place my slaves in a separate decent building.

  While escorting me to my room, Izak finally spoke up.

  "If I may ask, what is the Young Master's name?" Izak asked politely yet firmly.

  "I am Aister Fondal."

  "What is your relationship with His Excellency?"

  "I don't know... I'm not too sure myself," I evaded.

  "May I also ask, Butler Izak. How old actually is Princess Isabel?"

  Izak chuckled softly, his voice echoing in the corridor. "Hohoho... Are you interested in following the proposal tradition with Princess Isabel?"

  No! I've already done it, old man! And I regret it! I wanted to scream that in his face, but my courage failed.

  "Would His Excellency the Earl also protect her through duels? Like your story about your father-in-law earlier?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

  "Hahaha!" Izak laughed loudly. "If that were the case, perhaps only the 5 Grandmasters in this kingdom could propose to the Princess. And poor Princess, she'd have to marry those old men or remain single forever."

  "Hah? Is the Earl that strong?"

  "Of course. In the past, the Earl was Grandmaster Tristan's eternal rival," Izak said, his chest puffing with pride recounting his master. "He didn't intervene in his daughter's proposal duels because it would be unfair to ordinary suitors."

  He guided me to the front of my room.

  After he left, I decided to take a hot bath and try to sleep, to forget my misfortune.

  That Night

  I woke up and glanced out the window. In the torch-lit courtyard below, I saw Princess Isabel. That spoiled child was practicing swinging her wooden sword.

  She trained very diligently. Sweat soaked her small body, her breath came in gasps, but she didn't stop. Standing there, I was amazed—which was the real her? The one I met in the village, or the one now?

  Seeing that sight, I suddenly felt ashamed. Deeply ashamed of myself.

  All this time, I had always sought the easy way. I always ran from problems. I relied on my slaves, relied on Yardorh's Eye, and relied on cunning. While this little girl faced her weaknesses courageously.

  Maybe now I should stop running. Maybe it was time I tried facing my own world.

  Actually, the reason I couldn't use mana wasn't entirely because I lacked talent. Half the reason was because I was lazy and afraid of pain. The first time mana was forcibly pushed into my body at the academy, it was extremely painful, and since then I had stopped trying.

  I closed the window curtains. I sat cross-legged on the mattress, trying to meditate.

  I could sense mana faster than when I was at the Academy—had my talent increased?

  I took a deep breath, trying to absorb that energy.

  Zrrrt!

  When the mana began forcing itself into my pores and bloodstream, that pain returned. It felt like being stabbed by thousands of hot needles from within my flesh.

  My body trembled violently, cold sweat pouring profusely.

  That pain made me want to give up right there. To stop and sleep.

  But the image of Isabel training hard, and the image of my slaves' empty eyes, flashed through my mind.

  No. Remembering my initial resolve... I couldn't give up so easily. I didn't want to die foolishly.

  I gritted my teeth, holding back my screams, and continued pulling that energy in.

  Tens of minutes passed in torment.

  Until finally, the pain subsided, replaced by a warm sensation flowing smoothly. That mana had successfully entered and settled in my body.

  Now, I faced one crucial choice that would determine my future.

  This energy... should I condense it to become a Martial Artist?

  Or...

  Should I shape it into Mana Runes within my soul core to become a Sorcerer?