The footsteps grew louder.
Each one echoed through the courtyard with a slow, deliberate rhythm that somehow commanded everyone's attention. No one spoke. Even the servants standing around the courtyard seemed to instinctively straighten.
A tall figure emerged from beneath the stone archway.
For a split second, I honestly thought Luka had somehow aged twenty years.
The resemblance was undeniable.
The same silver-white hair.
The same sharp jawline.
The same piercing blue eyes.
But that was where the similarities ended.
Where Luka carried himself with easy confidence and the occasional grin, this man radiated authority without saying a word. He was well over six and a half feet tall, broad enough that he looked capable of wearing full plate armor as casually as a jacket. Instead, he wore a dark navy military-style coat trimmed in white and silver over finely tailored clothing. A longsword rested comfortably at his side—not as decoration, but as though it had been there for so many years it was simply another part of him.
His gaze swept over the courtyard once.
Every person lowered their head.
Including Luka.
"...Brother," Luka greeted respectfully.
"So you finally made it," the man replied.
His voice was deep and calm, carrying naturally across the courtyard without ever becoming loud.
His eyes shifted from Luka to Celest.
"It's good to see you both."
Then...
They landed on me.
For several seconds he simply looked.
Not glaring.
Not smiling.
Just studying me with an intensity that made me feel like every invention I'd ever built, every decision I'd ever made, and every thought currently running through my head had been laid out before him.
I resisted the urge to fidget.
Finally...
The corners of his mouth lifted into the smallest smile.
"So."
"You're Adam."
I gave a small nod.
"...I am."
He walked toward me.
Each step was measured, confident, and strangely quiet despite his size.
When he stopped, I had to tilt my head slightly just to maintain eye contact.
"Marcus White."
He extended his hand.
"Welcome to Whitehold."
I shook it.
The instant our hands met, I understood why everyone talked about him with such respect.
His grip was firm.
Not crushing.
Not a test of strength.
Just steady.
Confident.
The handshake of someone who had no need to prove he was stronger.
"It's an honor to meet you, Lord Marcus."
His eyebrow rose slightly.
"Lord Marcus?"
Luka let out a sigh.
"Oh no..."
Marcus chuckled.
"You're family here."
He released my hand.
"Marcus is fine."
"...I don't think I can do that."
"You'll learn."
A warm laugh drifted across the courtyard.
"I told you he'd be polite."
The silver-haired woman stepped forward gracefully.
Up close, she looked even more beautiful than before. Her silver hair shimmered beneath the afternoon sun, and her sapphire-blue eyes held a kindness that immediately softened the intimidating atmosphere Marcus naturally created.
Marcus smiled far more openly than I would've thought possible.
"My wife."
She gave me a graceful curtsy.
"Evelyn White."
"It's wonderful to finally meet you, Adam."
I quickly bowed in return.
"It's nice to meet you too, Lady Evelyn."
She laughed softly.
"Oh dear."
Marcus pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Luka."
"I know," Luka groaned.
"You should've warned him."
"I tried."
Evelyn smiled kindly.
"You may call me Evelyn if you're comfortable."
"I... don't think I'm comfortable enough for that."
She giggled.
"I like him already."
Marcus folded his arms.
"So do I."
I blinked.
"...That was quick."
Marcus nodded matter-of-factly.
"You greeted my wife properly."
"...Yes?"
"You shook my hand without trying to prove yourself."
"...Also yes."
"You looked me in the eyes."
I wasn't sure where this was going.
"And?"
He gave a satisfied nod.
"You're honest."
Luka laughed.
"I told you."
Marcus ignored him.
"Half the young nobles I meet either try to flatter me, challenge me, or impress me."
His expression remained calm.
"You've done none of those."
"I figured that would've been a bad idea."
"It would've."
For a heartbeat...
Silence settled over the courtyard.
Then Marcus's stern expression disappeared completely as he reached over and placed a massive hand on Luka's shoulder.
"You've gotten thinner."
Luka immediately frowned.
"I have not."
"You have."
"I literally haven't."
Marcus looked toward Evelyn.
"He's thinner."
Evelyn nodded thoughtfully.
"A little."
"I'm standing right here," Luka protested.
Marcus ignored him completely.
"Have you been skipping meals?"
"No!"
"Sleeping enough?"
"...Mostly."
"Training?"
"Yes."
Marcus sighed dramatically.
"Evelyn."
"Yes, dear?"
"Our little brother has forgotten how to take care of himself."
Luka buried his face in his hands.
"I am twenty-three years old."
"You'll always be my little brother."
Celest couldn't hold it together anymore.
She burst into laughter.
I stared at the scene in complete disbelief.
This...
This was the terrifying Marquis of the North?
The man every soldier respected?
The commander who protected the kingdom's frontier?
He was fussing over Luka because he thought he'd lost a little weight.
Marcus looked back at me and noticed my expression.
"...What?"
I couldn't help smiling.
"Nothing."
"...This just isn't what I expected."
Marcus raised an eyebrow.
"And what exactly were you expecting?"
"I don't know."
"Someone... scarier?"
He thought about that for a moment.
Then looked toward one of the captains standing nearby.
"Captain."
"Yes, my lord?"
"Am I losing my reputation?"
The captain answered without hesitation.
"No, my lord."
"Good."
Marcus nodded once before looking back at me.
"Excellent."
Then, completely seriously, he added,
"We can continue terrifying people tomorrow."
Even Evelyn laughed at that.
Marcus folded his arms, studying me for another long moment.
"So."
His voice carried easily across the courtyard.
"I've heard quite a few stories about you."
I rubbed the back of my neck.
"I've heard some of them too."
"A dragon."
Luka snorted.
Marcus continued as if he hadn't heard him.
"An ancient sage."
Celest covered her smile.
"My personal favorite," Marcus said with complete seriousness, "is that you're a spirit that stole the Duke's laboratory."
I blinked.
"...How does someone even come up with that?"
Marcus shrugged.
"People are creative."
A faint smile tugged at his lips before his expression settled back into calm composure.
"Rumors are meaningless."
His blue eyes met mine.
"I prefer evidence."
He turned and gestured toward the far side of the courtyard.
Nearly a hundred meters away stood several training dummies crafted from dark ironwood. Thick mana-inscribed plates covered their fronts, and each one stood atop a reinforced stone platform.
"They're designed to withstand attacks from veteran knights."
Marcus looked back at me.
"I'd like to see your magic."
Luka immediately spoke up.
"Marcus..."
"I'm not testing him."
Marcus's tone remained relaxed.
"I'm satisfying my curiosity."
He looked at me again.
"One attack."
"No pressure."
I swallowed.
"...Right."
As everyone stepped back, I slowly walked toward the center of the courtyard.
The stone beneath my boots was smooth from decades of training.
I stopped about thirty meters from the nearest dummy.
One attack.
Simple enough.
I rolled my shoulders.
What should I do?
I could throw a fire spell.
Lightning.
Compressed wind.
No...
Marcus hadn't asked to see a spell.
He asked to see my magic.
Then an idea struck me.
Mana wrapping.
Ever since Celest had taught me the basics, I'd been refining it constantly.
Not just strengthening my muscles.
Compressing the mana.
Layering it.
Increasing its density while minimizing waste.
Back on Earth I'd spent years studying force distribution, mechanical efficiency, and energy transfer.
Magic followed different rules.
But efficiency...
Efficiency was universal.
I slowly inhaled.
Mana stirred within me.
Instead of letting it rush wildly through my body, I compressed it.
One layer.
Then another.
Then another.
The familiar blue aura never appeared.
Everything was pulled inward.
Denser.
Sharper.
More focused.
The air around me began to shimmer.
Tiny cracks spread through the stone beneath my feet.
Marcus's expression changed almost imperceptibly.
"...Interesting."
Luka frowned.
"He's compressing it."
Celest's eyes widened.
"No..."
She whispered almost to herself.
"He's still increasing it."
The pressure continued to build.
The courtyard grew strangely quiet.
Leaves stopped rustling.
Dust lifted from the ground.
Even the servants standing along the edges unconsciously took a step backward.
Marcus watched without blinking.
That density...
He had seen mana wrapping performed by masters.
Veteran knights.
Royal guards.
Even heroes.
But this...
This wasn't simply coating the body.
The mana was being folded inward again and again with almost impossible precision.
There was almost no leakage.
Almost no waste.
It was like watching someone forge steel instead of pouring water.
Adam opened his eyes.
Blue light flashed across his irises for only an instant.
"Here goes."
He leaned forward.
His foot touched the ground.
BOOM!!
The courtyard exploded.
The stone beneath him shattered instantly as a deafening shockwave erupted in every direction.
A crater nearly ten meters across collapsed beneath his starting position.
Chunks of stone launched skyward.
The surrounding trees bent violently.
Servants grabbed nearby pillars to keep their balance.
Adam vanished.
For an instant.
He simply disappeared.
Then—
CRACK!!
The training dummy detonated.
Not broke.
Detonated.
The reinforced ironwood splintered into thousands of fragments as the impact drove straight through it.
The stone platform beneath it split apart.
A web of fractures raced across the training yard for dozens of meters before finally stopping.
Silence.
Dust drifted through the air.
Adam stood where the dummy had once been, one fist extended.
"..."
He blinked.
"...I may have overdone it."
A chunk of stone landed behind him with a dull thud.
No one answered.
Luka stared at the crater Adam had left behind.
"...You think?"
Celest slowly lowered the hand she'd instinctively raised to shield her face.
"I've... never seen mana wrapping used like that."
Even the guards lining the courtyard looked stunned.
One captain quietly muttered,
"He crossed thirty meters..."
"...In one step."
Marcus remained perfectly still.
His eyes moved from the destroyed dummy...
...to the crater...
...to the fractured courtyard...
...and finally back to Adam.
A slow smile spread across his face.
Not surprise.
Not amusement.
Recognition.
"So..."
he said quietly.
"The rumors were underselling you."
Adam winced.
"About the crater..."
Marcus interrupted him.
"We can repair stone."
He began walking toward Adam, inspecting the shattered ground beneath his feet.
"What interests me..."
He crouched beside one of the broken slabs, running his fingers across the impact marks.
"...is that this wasn't caused by raw magical output."
He looked up.
"It was efficiency."
Adam blinked.
Marcus stood.
"You compressed your mana to an absurd degree."
"You wasted almost none of it."
His smile widened.
"I've spent thirty years watching knights master body reinforcement."
He met Adam's eyes.
"I've never seen anyone your age manipulates mana with that level of precision."
For the first time since they'd met...
Marcus looked genuinely excited.
"Adam."
He folded his arms.
"I believe we're going to have many fascinating conversations over the next few days."