The days continued in a certain pattern. The new recruits of Thornefang, alongside the soldiers from the Capital, could be heard training under Sir Thalos early in the morning until late at night.
Sir Thalos drove the capital soldiers and the Thornefang recruits as if they were iron being forged on an anvil.
Dawn saw them marching until their legs trembled, midday had them firing volley after volley with arquebuses until their shoulders bruised, and night was for drilling in discipline until their arms hung heavy like lead.
The capital soldiers, once proud of their crisp uniforms, soon found themselves soaked in sweat, mud, and powder smoke. More than one cursed under their breath, but none dared voice it where Sir Thalos could hear.
Lucen and Robert continued creating and improving various things. The sound of explosions and manic laughter could be heard every now and again.
At times, he was at the forge where Lucen worked beside Oswin. His hammer rose and fell, sparks leaping like fireflies with every strike.
The ring of steel against steel echoed through the forge, steady and unrelenting, a rhythm that sank into his bones.
Sweat stung his eyes, but his grip did not falter. Each blow shaped the glowing metal closer to the vision in his mind.
The Blacksmithing skill whispered corrections at the edge of his senses. Adjust the angle, temper the strike, feed the forge with more air. It was as though unseen hands guided his own, turning clumsy motions into practiced craft.
In another wing of the fortress, Cael's sword rang against steel. He moved with fluid grace, each step deliberate, each strike echoing the Thornehart family's centuries of tradition. Where Lucen had struggled to grasp the rhythm of the blade, Cael seemed to breathe it.
While everyone was doing their thing, the days continued onward until one day Vardon called for Lucen.
"I have something to ask you. Do you wish to go to the Royal Academy?"
When Lucen heard the name Royal Academy, he was momentarily stunned. The Royal Academy was the main area around which the story of the protagonist Alexander revolved.
Of course, right now, most of Alexander's companions were too young to attend, as they were near the same age as Lucen's young brother Cael.
If Vardon asked him if he wanted to go to the Royal Academy a few years from now, when the Alexander would be attending, Lucen would immediately agree, but at the current time, he didn't feel like going.
He had the memories of his past life, were he was a college graduate. The knowledge he possessed would be more than that of most of the teachers in that school.
"If you don't wish to go, you don't need to go," Vardon answered, which surprised Lucen, who thought that the other party would push him to go.
Lucen studied his father's expression. Vardon's face was, as always, carved from stone, but the fact that he was asking, not ordering, made Lucen hesitate.
"... Then why did you ask me, Father?"
Vardon crossed his arms, his shadow filling the chamber like a looming fortress wall. "Because sooner or later, you'll need to step onto the stage of nobles, with the other heirs. You can forge all the weapons you like here, but without recognition, without influence, even steel will rust unseen. The Royal Academy is where reputations are tempered."
Vardon then closed his eyes while tapping on the desk. As he opened his eyes, he continued speaking.
"Still, with your current knowledge, I doubt that you would learn much in that academy. The only real reason would simply be among your peers. As you may know, I disdain the hypocrisy of the other nobles. How they scheme, without any regard for the people. But you are not me. If you wish to go to the academy to gain allies for the future, then you may do so." This update is available on novel·fire.net
Lucen leaned back slightly, arms crossed. His father's words echoed with weight. The Royal Academy, a nest of politics, heirs, and schemers. A place where blades were hidden behind smiles.
'There's really no point in wasting four years in the academy. Since none of the main cast would be there, and the events I know of aren't happening yet, there would be nothing to do there at the moment. There's also the fact that the hidden weapons currently available there aren't better than the equipment I have now.'
"If I have a choice, I don't wish to go. I already have the allies I need right here. Even without the help of the other nobles, I promise I will protect Stellhart."
"Hmph," Vardon's stoic gaze stared right at Lucen. "You shouldn't only protect Stellhart, but the entirety of Norvaegard."
Lucen met his father's gaze without flinching. The Iron Duke's words pressed like a mountain upon his shoulders, yet he didn't look away.
"Then I will do just that."
The corner of Vardon's mouth twitched, so faintly it might have been an illusion. He gave a single nod, slow and deliberate.
"Good..." Vardon spoke and then paused for a few seconds before continuing. "It would seem that you are more like me than I thought."
"Of course, I am your son after all."
The faintest sound, something between a chuckle and an exhale, escaped Vardon, gone as quickly as it came.
"See that you do not forget it," the Iron Duke said, his tone once more cold and commanding. "A Thornehart's oath is not made with words, but with deeds. We are the shield that protects Norvaegard. Remember that when the time comes."
Lucen gave a firm nod. "I will."
"One last thing, since you decided not to attend as a student in the Royal Academy. They had asked me to tell you that you would need to at least join the Academy's tournament."
Lucen blinked. "The tournament?"
Vardon gave a slow nod. "Once every two years, the Academy hosts it to measure the heirs of noble houses. It is not only students who may enter, but also those invited by the Crown. Since you refuse to enroll, they at least wish to see the measure of the Iron Duke's heir with their own eyes."
"So in other words," Lucen muttered, "they want to test me."
Vardon's gaze hardened, like steel cooling in the forge. "No. They want to weigh you."
"A year and a half from now." He paused, then added, "Show them that you are my son."
Lucen bowed his head, not out of subservience but respect. "I shall. I will make them never forget who I am."
The conversation ended there, as abruptly as it began. That was Vardon's way—no lingering, no indulgence. He turned his attention back to a stack of reports, dismissing his son without a word. Lucen bowed slightly, then left the chamber.
In the next few days, everything continued as before. Even after learning about the tournament, Lucen didn't really change his routine. He continued to train as always and did not add anything to his training.
Vardon once again called for him. This was the first time his father had called for him just a few days after the last time they talked.
When Lucen entered the study, there was something different. The atmosphere, which was always intense, was more intense today.
Even Vardon's stoic look was different; there was something more to it. Lucen couldn't tell what it was, but he knew that this conversation was much more serious than the last time.
"Good, you're here," Vardon spoke, his voice had a bit more intensity to it than usual. "I'll get straight to the point. The knights stationed near the border of the forbidden zone have noticed some peculiar monster movements. It seems like a monster wave is coming."
Lucen's expression sharpened. "A monster wave?"
Vardon gave a slow nod, his hand resting on the desk, fingers tightening against the wood. "As you already know, one of the main reasons our family is stationed here is to deal with the monster waves. Every generation of the Thornehart had to deal with monster waves, and the intensity is becoming worse... As the future Duke of Stellhart, I need you to experience the monster wave. So this time, you and your Thornefang will be coming with me to repel the monster wave."
Lucen did not flinch at his father's words. His grip merely tightened at his side. "So it's finally here."
"You don't look surprised," Vardon remarked, eyes narrowing.
"It's as you said, Father, one of our duties is to deal with the monster wave. I knew sooner or later that I would need to fight against a monster wave."
Vardon's eyes lingered on him, searching. At last, he gave a slow nod. "Good. Then steel yourself. This is no bandit raid, no border skirmish. A monster wave is the very land itself vomiting forth everything it has hidden in the dark. Even seasoned knights can break when they hear the ground trembling beneath them."
Lucen met his father's gaze. "Then I'll make sure that I and Thornefang will not break... How long before we march to meet the wave?"
"Hmph." Vardon's lip curled faintly. "Be prepared to leave for the first fortress in half a month."
"I will finish preparations before then."
"Very well, you may leave."
Lucen gave a knight's salute before exiting the study. Once he was outside walking through the hallways, he could hear his heart beating faster than ever.
He was unsure if this was the monster wave that weakened Stellhart greatly, which gave the other nobles a chance to pounce on the Dukedom.
Even if it wasn't that, he had prepared for this day, and now he'll be able to test the true worth of his firepower.