I was nine years old when I reached the most crucial stage of becoming a real Knight, aka the Condensation stage. This was where I was supposed to form a Core for my internal energy. In theory, it should be a piece of cake, considering I’d spent months poking myself to get my internal energy rolling and thrashing about my channels. Now, I simply had to focus the circulation on a single point and hold it there until the energy took a form dense enough to condense into a Core.

  Breathing in, I felt the nine internal energy channels in my body squirm as I established the meditative position. Through constant training, I could now force a circulation without actually hurting myself, which taught me how to control my muscles as well.

  It wasn’t to the point where I’d become the master of my own body, but it was fair to say that I’d grown a certain familiarity with whatever was under my flesh. With each breath, the squirming energy got pushed or pressed further until it arrived at the pit of my stomach.

  This was a classic spot, and you didn’t want to mess with classics. There was no need to come up with a different place for a Core. In short, I’d place it in my stomach.

  Simple as that.

  The accumulation of the energy continued as I sat in the dark of my Runic Chamber. Of all the available lots in our giant mansion, this was the only place where I felt completely safe. Outside, or even in my bedroom, I had to be the subject of many curious gazes, which made me uncomfortable even though I knew not a single one of them carried any bad intentions.

  Here, though, I was alone.

  This was my happy place.

  Surprisingly, meditation was one hell of a struggle for me and took me a long time to adjust. It was a cruel realization to see how I was my own worst enemy. Thanks to Radek and our nightly talks, I had somewhat managed to get that under control, but it was like holding a dam. I couldn’t be careless. I couldn’t let myself get swept into that storm of nothingness.

  So then, I focused more. Slowly, my internal channels established a dreamy sea of internal energy in the pit of my stomach. I watched the process through soul vision and saw the wavering bronze strands splashing against the walls of my flesh. These were my own firecrackers, but alone, they were senseless without any direction.

  Soon, however, they began blending into one another, becoming harder and thicker. I clenched my stomach to push them further while keeping my breaths in check.

  This was one of the rare advantages of Knighthood since forming a Core was ultimately a far more difficult task for Mages. They had to establish a delicate balance and choose certain spell forms or even elements, while all a Knight had to do was to wait for his internal energy to become thicker and stronger until the strands manifested a Core.

  Cool stuff, really.

  But this by itself meant nothing to me. A Bronze Knight was weak. Weaker than an ant, if I were to compare myself to my closest circle of… friends? Family? Yeah, whatever. For me, the real deal here was that I would be allowed to use my runes after becoming a Bronze Knight.

  About the fifth stage of that process… Well, tying all nine channels into my Core was really no big deal.

  …….

  I thought that after figuring out the Circulation stage, I would get a break from torturing myself until I formed a Core.

  As always, I was wrong.

  There was a change in my diet.

  What changed, you ask?

  Well, a little too much.

  “We’ll start with mild poisons,” Mother said as she gestured at a newly arrived plate upon which rested some sort of mixture that resembled a seaweed-chili combo. The slices were decisively green, with hair-like growths jutting out of the sides. Its stench couldn’t be any further from being mouth-watering. “Poking Roots. Useful plants often utilized in Alchemy, but enough of them could kill an experienced Silver Knight.”

  I swallowed at the sight of the damn things. My emotional support butler, Belfray, tried to lift my mood with a fake smile from behind Mother.

  “I’m sorry, poison?” I still couldn’t stop my mouth from opening.

  “Mild poison,” Mother corrected me with a patient look. “Now that you’re about to form your Core, we have to ensure your body’s not slacking during this time.”

  I froze.

  Let me tell you what wasn’t mild here.

  The horror that rose within me.

  Being honest, I was mentally preparing myself to deal with firestorms and blizzards, but I hadn’t considered such an insidious interference with the only thing that was constantly good in my life.

  Food.

  Without it, I might break.

  For good.

  “Sure,” I muttered instead, nodding obediently.

  There was one thing that I had to remind myself of here.

  Arguing with your Mother was useless.

  After my show of dutiful obedience, I felt the poking of many stares from around the room. Radek wasn’t around, but Belfray and the rest of the staff—there were only Mary and some other cook’s aide who also worked as a guard when we were out—waited with what seemed like grim expectation.

  I looked at my fast-approaching session of misery.

  Poisonous, hairy, stinking seaweed.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  I clenched the fingers of my right hand, felt the blood throbbing in the back of my head. Letting yourself experience emotions was important, Radek had told me many times, so this time I didn’t shy away from showing my fear.

  In the end, though, I threw one of the slices in my mouth and gulped it down swiftly. I felt the hairs in that nasty weed rubbing against the roof of my mouth, and even though I gagged and sniffed, I managed to force it all the way down to my stomach.

  This could be the most disgusting thing I’d ever eaten in both my lives.

  “Very good.”

  But it was almost worth it since my stranger mother gave me an approving look.

  Yes.

  Look who’s a good boy!

  Uh…

  “Such courage!” Belfray joined shortly after with a balled-up fist. “This act alone is enough to put you higher than most of the Runemasters in the Planar System, Young Master. To think you’re nine years old…”

  Hah… Like I had a choice.

  “General, I don’t think you should—” Mary tried to say, but was quickly silenced when Belfray glowered down at her.

  “Bring that here. We’re due a celebration.”

  “Right now?”

  “Now.”

  She hurried back to the kitchen while we remained seated with Mother. I didn’t know what was going on, but seeing Belfray’s support meant a lot.

  “So, Mum, about me becoming a Bronze Knight.” I decided to use my earlier show of courage to bring up the most important topic that had been going on and on in my mind lately. “When can I start inscribing runes on my body?”

  I knew I had to wait until becoming a true Knight, but my soul energy reserves saw an insane increase over the last year, probably because I was at the golden age for practicing my internal reserves. Master Gerard—bless his scared soul for providing detailed explanations about basic Runes—wrote that the ages between 10–16 were especially crucial for any wanna-be Runemasters.

  Well, on that front, I daresay I was making good progress.

  A Grade 2 Strengthening Rune would give me about a 40% increase in bodily strength. A Grade 2 Internal Energy Rune would boost my internal energy reserves by the same amount. Not to mention, I had regenerative, speed, and similar other runes in my collection.

  In short, I had a rather wide array of options to choose from if Mother gave me the go.

  But I was definitely more interested in craft-based Runes.

  Radek promised to deliver more resources once I became a Bronze Knight.

  “Patience.” Mother, as always, didn’t budge. “You’re about to form your Core. It’s a delicate process, and inscribing runes on your body might affect your general balance.”

  Belfray perked up from behind her, scowling down as though something bothered him.

  My shoulders sagged, but deep in my mind, I’d already begun thinking about the first set of runes I was going to inscribe on my own body after forming a Core.

  Now, being a Runeknight was a big deal, but it came with its own set of hurdles. First of all, you had to adjust to your newly increased strength, speed, or whatever boost you were getting from your runes. That was easy enough, but since every rune came with its own soul battery, a Runeknight couldn’t allow his head to get muddled with these influxes of outsourced powers, meaning that he should always consider the possibility of the runes going off.

  I didn’t have that kind of problem. Even if the soul energy in my runes were to run out, I could just recharge them right away. That was what made the Runemaster and Knight combo so dangerous. I didn’t have to rely on a master.

  Then, you had to be careful with the grade of runes. Inscribing a Grade 3 Strengthening Rune and pairing it with a Grade 1 Endurance Rune wouldn’t work since a 20% increase in endurance couldn’t contain the explosive power of a 60% increase in strength. The common practice was that you would always pair runes that were the same grade.

  “I don’t think I can inscribe Grade 3 runes, anyway,” I muttered loudly after my little session of internal thinking. “I’ll only go with Grade 2 ones for a start.”

  “Only Grade 2 ones…” Belfray sighed so loudly that only then did I understand everybody around the table heard me.

  “Grade 2 runes will suffice,” Mother said shortly after. “It will be enough for your first adventure.”

  First what?

  Footsteps echoed across the dining room before I could react to this sudden mention of the adventure business. Mary came carrying a giant cake in her arms, upon which burned a total of nine candles. Behind her was the rest of the house staff, more than twenty people gathered on such short notice.

  I caught sight of Radek behind them, talking to a strange man I’d never seen before. He looked young. He was dressed in formal clothes, some sort of suit, but more fancy than anything I’d ever seen before. His blue eyes gleamed sharply, and there in his body I sensed a strange presence that tickled my soul energy.

  The second that giant cake plopped down on the table, however, I lost sight of them as I found myself surrounded by a crowd of people looking eagerly into my face.

  That was when it occurred to me.

  There were only nine candles on the cake.

  I was nine years old.

  “This…” I muttered silently. “Is this my birthday cake?”

  “Yes, my love,” Mother said as she rose from her chair. The staff gave her way as she rounded the table, came up behind me, and put her hands down on my shoulder. “Now, make a wish before you blow those candles out.”

  I felt a strange pressure in the back of my eyes, but I managed to hold it down as I inhaled a long breath. My fingers shook. There was something wrong with my heart.

  In the end, though, I blew all nine candles in a single breath, earning myself a thunderous explosion of people clapping and singing an unfamiliar birthday song. My wish was simple.

  I just wanted to be present in this life.

  I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it.

  Live a life that wasn’t full of shame and misery.

  Closing my eyes, I cherished the sounds around me, the warmth surrounding my body all too alien. I could get used to this. Maybe being the center of attention wasn’t as bad as I thought.

  Then came the gifts.

  There were a lot of them.

  ……

  I spent the rest of the week focusing on forming my Core, eating an ungodly variety of poisons, and suffering from a great circle of torture that wrecked different parts of my body. Some days it would be mild, like extra stops at the restroom to relieve my poor intestines, and some other days it would be all about cramps and muscle pains.

  These didn’t stop me from attending my training lessons with Mum, though. No matter how messed up I was, my feet continued to drag me down to the basement, where I got to spend precious time with my new gift.

  A real sword.

  She was a beauty.

  I called her Beatrice… because why not, right?

  Now, my Beatrice was different from a measly wooden sword that got cracked and chipped after every session. She had the endurance of an ox, and she wouldn’t mind giving the Butcher of the Dawn’s weapon a run for its money.

  It was just that I much preferred keeping her in pristine condition, which was why I never used her in a way I’d use a real sword.

  That was a problem.

  “Why do you keep pressing with your crossguard? This isn’t a brawl. Use your weapon!”

  I flinched back a step when Mother butted Beatrice from the side with strength, my fingers jolting with electricity as the momentum of the blow rocked my whole body. My heart skipped a beat as I checked my sword’s side, and only when I got to see her smooth face did I allow myself a relieved breath.

  She was fine.

  We were fine.

  Mother didn’t think the same.

  “Was it too much?” I heard her mutter under her breath. “I thought he could handle a real sword, but…”

  She couldn’t be further from the truth.

  I’d been getting personal lessons from a Celestial Knight for years now. In all honesty, I could make Beatrice sing a damn lullaby if I wanted to. The trouble was, she was a gift from Mother, and I couldn’t even imagine damaging her in any way. Even a little scratch would tear a piece from my heart, which was why I favored a slippery, brawly style of combat for these last couple of days.

  Looking at my mother’s face, though, it seemed I’d gone a bit overboard.

  Then again, I couldn’t tell her that.

  Right.

  I guessed there was nothing I could do but face the harsh truth.

  Beatrice was going to get hurt… like me.

  Hold on.

  What if I gifted her a bunch of runes?

  Would that make her more durable against the very insistent efforts of my mother?

  After all, I was the one who’d been forbidden to inscribe any runes on my body until I became a Bronze Knight.

  Beatrice wasn’t me. Well, she was a part of me, but you got the gist of it.

  I could paint her, but how would I make that work?

  There was only one way to know.

  I might as well try it.

  ……..

  Here!