Chapter 58
A full week had slipped by since the day Lucien collapsed in the garden swing, and life within the Velebrandt estate returned to its steady rhythm. The maids moved with practiced grace through marble halls bathed in sunlight, while the knights patrolled the mansion with quiet discipline. The memories of the odd incident were tucked away—faded like the trailing edge of a dream.
Lucien, now awake in his bedroom, sat propped against a cluster of plush pillows, draped in silk sleepwear, the gold trim reflecting softly in the morning light that filtered through the grand arched windows. His silver hair was unkempt, messily falling around his face as he absentmindedly touched his temples. A familiar soreness clung to his body, not agonizing, but undeniably present—as though he had been under an immense strain his body didn’t remember.
"What in the world even happened to me?" he murmured to himself.
No one had given him any clear explanation beyond faint suggestions of exhaustion. He remembered feeling drowsy, and then—nothing. A gap in memory that troubled him more than he admitted. Still, life went on, and the estate buzzed with its usual activities.
Maid Marie, ever-dutiful, resumed her daily tasks as if nothing had happened. She occasionally passed Lucien with a warm smile and careful inquiries about his well-being, but behind her gaze was a flicker of something—a hollow space she couldn’t explain. She, too, couldn’t recall why she and Knight Rex had been found dozing in the underground lounge, yet the concern had passed quickly, buried under layers of duty.
Knight Rex himself remained his usual stern, unwavering self, though his sharp eyes occasionally lingered on Lucien longer than before, as if trying to read something buried deep beneath the boy’s calm expression. He, too, felt something was amiss, but lacked the threads to follow. And so, with no further incidents, the household returned to normalcy.
Grand Duke Aldric Velebrandt, however, had been far from idle.
For days he had locked himself in his private study, pouring over military doctrines, magic theory tomes, aura manuals, and piles of historical training scrolls. The great Duke—known as the strongest of the six Archdukes of the Empire—was not a man to leave anything to chance. And when it came to his son, his blood, the heir to House Velebrandt—no amount of effort was excessive.
He worked tirelessly to craft the perfect training schedule for Lucien, considering every detail: maximizing growth without breaking the boy’s spirit, balancing physical training with mental conditioning, and even including restorative windows to maintain Lucien’s youthful stamina. The plan was not just for strength—but for longevity, discipline, and survival.
Lucien, in the meantime, was told that his awakened power was aura. He received the news with little reaction—a simple nod and a murmur of, "That makes sense."
He remembered clearly that, back when he customized his character in that strange game, he had selected sword-related talents—a reflection of his childhood dreams of being a cool swordsman. He hadn’t thought too deeply at the time. Now, that choice had bound itself to his very existence.