Reinhard and Rennie walked along the cobblestone path leading to the training grounds. Towering dark stone walls surrounded them—massive and impenetrable. These walls had witnessed generations of Deira knights honing their skills, raising their blades in the name of family and honor.
The field was alive with the roar of battle—the sharp clash of steel, the shouts of commanders, and the heavy breathing of warriors in training filled the air. Young knights sparred against one another, endlessly practicing strikes, dodges, and blocks. Some of them had already noticed the arrival of the two sons of the family's head, but no one dared to let it distract them from their training.
Reinhard surveyed the grounds, analyzing everything carefully. He could see that the strikes were precise, but the movements were too slow. Some knights relied more on brute strength than technique, and that was a problem.
However, before he could fully assess the situation, his attention was drawn to a sudden movement behind him.
— Oh-ho-ho! Look who decided to visit my training grounds!
Strong arms grabbed Rennie and effortlessly lifted him into the air.
— It's our little knight! — a booming voice, filled with warmth and strength, rang out.
Rennie flushed with embarrassment, but he didn't struggle.
— Uncle, put me down… — he muttered, feeling the weight of the surrounding gazes on him.
Reinhard narrowed his eyes, watching the scene unfold.
Liam Deira.
His father's younger brother, the head of the family's knights, and a fifth-rank warrior. One of the most loyal men in the Deira household, a man who had lived with a sword in his hand since childhood. However, he had one notable trait—his disdain for mages.
He despised those who relied on spells rather than cold steel, believing magic to be the path of the weak.
Liam set Rennie back on the ground, then his gaze swiftly locked onto Reinhard.
— And the mage… — his voice was no longer as friendly, and his eyes took on a cold edge.
Reinhard simply inclined his head slightly, his expression remaining calm and composed.
— Greetings, Uncle.
Liam narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. Irritation flickered in his gaze, mixed with a hint of contempt.
— I understand why my nephew has come here. But what is this mage doing here?
Reinhard smiled faintly, masking a subtle challenge behind his expression.
— I came to observe the knights' training, but… — he paused for a moment, casting a glance over the training field — after coming here, I have yet to see anything impressive.
Liam raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.
— The training is simplistic and ineffective. The knights are weak. I fail to see the warriors this duchy is so proud of.
A heavy silence fell over the field.
Several warriors standing nearby froze, their expressions darkening. Some clenched their fists, others tensed, but none dared to speak.
Liam exhaled slowly, his face twisting into a dangerous smirk.
Then, without warning, he stepped forward, and in an instant, steel flashed through the air.
Liam's sword was at Reinhard's throat.