At sunset.
Qianshuo lay sprawled on the open grassland, hearing the wind's distant roar and the gentle rustle of swaying flowers and blades of grass.
As for how he went down…
He couldn't remember anymore.
His entire body was covered in wounds—skin split open by blades, bruises blooming everywhere, and torn gashes crisscrossing his limbs. His combat clothes had been dyed completely crimson. A faint haze seeped into his eyes, as if he were about to drift out of this world.
He couldn't even manage to exhale properly—much less cough up blood.
At first, every hit had burned and stung so badly he'd wanted to cry.
But now…
He felt nothing at all.
The exhaustion was so overwhelming it produced a kind of bodily hallucination. He started shivering, feeling ice-cold from head to toe, as if a bone-piercing winter wind had sunk into his marrow.
"Is it… winter?"
That was the first thought that surfaced in his mind.
Fatigue rolled over him like a tide. He had only one desire:
To sleep.
Just sleep.
On the "battle wilds," the Freya Familia members who had been fighting all day stared at the boy who had finally collapsed.
So many emotions converged on Qianshuo from afar—admiration, jealousy, respect, and more.
But none of them dared approach.
Because nobody wanted to become the next victim of Hedin's "special training."
The jealousy was easy to understand. It had long since become common knowledge within the familia that Lady Freya favored this newcomer.
At first, quite a few had been thinking about how to "teach the rookie a lesson" out here.
Then they learned he had been personally appointed as Hedin's disciple.
That level of "honor" had never happened in Freya Familia before. Discontent and envy naturally followed.
But after witnessing today's training—Qianshuo's relentless persistence, and the swordsmanship he displayed—their disdain and dissatisfaction quietly melted away.
From morning until now, his training had never stopped.
Again and again, he charged Hedin.
Again and again, he fell—only to force himself back up.
Hedin's training plan wasn't like the familia's usual savage internal clashes.
It ended only when the body reached its absolute limit—when you could no longer stand up.
Qianshuo's repeated collapses and recoveries, his stubborn will, and the seriousness with which he treated training… earned recognition.
When Qianshuo's consciousness began to sink into darkness, a familiar voice reached his ear.
"Lord Hedin… he's only twelve years old. Isn't this too strict?"
"If he is my disciple, then he must train to the strictest standard and the highest requirement. Otherwise, it disgraces me."
"And this is Lady Freya's expectation for him. He can do it—and he must do it."
Hedin's cold, unyielding tone—especially when he invoked Freya—left Heith, who had rushed over after hearing the news, momentarily speechless.
Then her gaze fell onto Qianshuo.
Her eyes filled with pain and worry as she hurried forward, raising her staff and releasing healing magic.
"Rebirth Goddess's Benediction (Zeo Gullveig)."
In the next instant, healing light wrapped around Qianshuo's body, forcibly cutting off Death as it crept closer.
His heartbeat thumped back to life.
Breath returned.
A surge of vitality flooded through him like a rushing river, striking even his soul with a dizzying impact.
His half-closed eyes were pried open as if by force. Qianshuo's whole body jerked, like he'd been shocked by lightning.
It felt as though every part of him had become a beating heart—pulsing in steady rhythm.
And then… he stabilized.
The crushing weariness that had been dragging him under eased away.
Qianshuo blinked and lifted his head.
Heith—the familia's chief healer—was crouched in front of him, holding her staff in one hand.
"You little brat… honestly, why are you training like this? You might be tough, but you can't just throw yourself around like that!"
Her cheeks puffed slightly in anger, and she tapped him on the head with the staff.
She'd wanted to scold him properly, to punish that stubborn personality.
But the moment she saw the fatigue between his brows, and the pallor on his face, her heart softened.
"Training is supposed to be like this, isn't it… Heith-jie. Thanks…"
Qianshuo lay spread-eagle on the grassland and released a long breath. His injuries had already been healed by her magic.
After joining Freya Familia, he had begun addressing Heith in a more intimate way.
During his recovery, their time together had made her feel like a dependable big sister—someone close, someone safe.
"Seriously… you kid…"
Heith let out a small sigh.
As Qianshuo's healer, she knew perfectly well what Freya "expected" of him.
To be honest, she hadn't anticipated Freya would value him so highly—nor that she would place such a heavy goal on a child's shoulders.
But since it was also Qianshuo's own dream, Heith couldn't say much.
The only thing she could do was support him with everything she had.
And the reason she treated him so well wasn't just because he was young.
During the time he was recovering, they got along smoothly—and Qianshuo was surprisingly good with words.
Sometimes he spoke in an old-fashioned way that was hard to understand, but it still sounded pleasant—gentle, respectful, soothing.
And above all—
He was good-looking.
Compared to the familia's many rough, burly men, Qianshuo was clean and fair, mild-tempered, and sweet-talking.
In Freya Familia, he was practically a "treasure."
That was why, among all the others, Heith found him especially likable.
"Why push yourself so hard?"
After confirming his body was fine, Heith finally exhaled in relief.
"Because to meet Lady Freya's expectations, I have to do what ordinary people cannot."
"And… now that I have a chance to become stronger, I treasure it. I treasure Teacher Hedin's guidance, too. I don't want to disappoint everyone's hopes."
"Besides…"
Qianshuo paused, then looked to the side.
Other wounded members were also wrapped in healing light, or receiving bandages from medics.
In Freya Familia, there were not only adventurers, but also an unusually robust medical staff—healers said to be rarer even than mages.
Thanks to so many capable healers, the familia's brutal internal conflict could continue without collapsing under casualties.
Qianshuo's hand trembled as he pressed against the ground, forcing his upper body upright.
"Teacher Hedin… he saw it."
"The way I struggled back then. The way I looked when I was desperate."
"At that time, I was already drowning in despair."
"But I wasn't willing to die like that."
"So I threw everything I had at that monster—fighting like a madman, trying to find even a single thread of victory."
Hedin listened and gave an almost imperceptible nod. Behind his gold-rimmed glasses, a glint of light passed.
It was precisely because of Qianshuo's will to survive—his instinct to fight—that Hedin had judged him worth shaping.
Now, the fact that he could speak calmly of the past proved his temperament was excellent.
Heith froze as she listened, the ache in her eyes deepening.
Even those brief words were enough to imagine the cruelty.
"So after receiving the Blessing, I kept thinking…"
"I have to become stronger."
"I can't allow myself to fall into that kind of hopelessness ever again."
Qianshuo drew a deep breath, then lifted his face toward the sky. His expression was solemn—almost fierce in its sincerity.
"I swear… that was the last death struggle of my life."
"From now on, it will only be me making others struggle on the brink of death."
"Gods above—bear witness!"
For a moment, both Hedin and Heith were stunned.
They hadn't expected such words from a twelve-year-old child.
Yet they could see it—something unique in him.
A spirit that belonged solely to youth: bright, fearless, and sharp.
"…That line was so cool."
From somewhere nearby, a low murmur slipped out from beneath a hood.
It was Hogni, quietly watching.
His eyes were filled with sincere admiration.
"This kid is way too cool… when will I be able to say something like that?"
After a brief, steady gaze, Hedin spoke.
"Training ends here today. Tomorrow we continue."
"Review everything you learned today. Tomorrow, I'll test you on it."
His eyes settled on Qianshuo.
As Hedin's disciple, being able to say something like that was only natural.
Pass.
Hedin himself didn't even notice the faint trace of satisfaction in his brows—pride, for a disciple who had met the standard.
"Yes, Teacher Hedin."
Qianshuo nodded with full seriousness.
And thus, his first day of training came to an end.
-------
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