"Well then... next, it's time for some physical training."
"Yes... please go easy on me..."
At the Rosemary Marquisate's training grounds, Rest stood face-to-face with an elderly butler. Their purpose was clear—training. The butler, Diable, had agreed to teach Rest how to fight.
"As you requested, we'll be focusing on combat training, but... what happened? You seem quite exhausted," Diable asked, noting Rest's haggard appearance and lifeless eyes.
Rest was unusually drained, and there was no energy in his gaze.
"If you're feeling unwell, we can always reschedule the training."
"No, please start... if anything, I need to move my body to blow off some steam!" Rest insisted.
"...I see." Diable raised a brow but nodded, accepting the answer.
"Before we begin, allow me to formally introduce myself. My name is Diable. I'm a former court magician, now serving as a butler."
"Rest. You were a court magician? Why are you working as a butler now?" Rest asked, curious.
Becoming a court magician often conferred the honorary title of viscount, and the retirement package was more than generous.
"I retired due to an injury. The previous Marquis was kind enough to take me in," Diable explained.
"Injury...?"
"It's nothing serious now. Honestly, dealing with the effects of aging is far more challenging," Diable said with a calm smile as he casually rolled his shoulders.
"Now then... before we begin combat training, look over there."
"Huh?"
Diable pointed off in a random direction, causing Rest to instinctively look. The next moment, a sharp pain shot through his stomach.
"Kaah...!?"
"Apologies. What I actually wanted you to observe were my feet."
Diable's heel struck Rest in the gut, causing him to collapse to his knees, coughing violently. He nearly vomited as his body trembled in pain.
"Wh-what...?"
"The first rule of combat is never to let your guard down. You never know how an enemy will attack you," Diable said, his voice calm and instructive.
"They might ambush you, conceal a weapon, disguise themselves as an ally, or even take hostages. You must always be prepared for any scenario and anticipate the worst."
Rest stared in silence, still gasping for breath.
Diable extended his hand to help Rest up. Rest, still dazed, nearly grabbed it—only to stop just in time.
"Correct," Diable said, revealing a thin needle he had hidden in his palm. "Had you grabbed my hand, you would have been pricked."
"This is just a sewing needle, but a real enemy would likely use a poisoned one."
Rest stayed silent, absorbing the lesson.
"If it's only your own life on the line, then making such a mistake isn't the end of the world. However, in real combat, your failure could cost the lives of those you're trying to protect."
"Those I'm trying to protect...?"
For a moment, Rest wanted to say there was no such person. But he bit his tongue, thinking of those who had shown him kindness—those who had taken him in and given him a chance to build a new future.
(Viola... Primula...)
The faces of the Rosemary sisters flashed in his mind. If someone asked if he was in love with them, Rest would likely shake his head. But if asked who he never wanted to see hurt, their faces were the first that came to mind.
"If you have someone to protect, then you cannot afford to lose. No matter what dirty tactics you must use, no matter how much you're called a coward—fight and win, for their sake. A magician doesn't need to hold to the same chivalrous code as knights. Victory is the only thing that matters."
"...I understand."
"Good. Now, for the training ahead..."
"[Earthen Ball]"
Before Diable could finish his sentence, Rest, still sitting on the ground, summoned a ball of earth magic and hurled it at Diable's head. However, Diable simply tilted his head, dodging the sneak attack.
"Well done. That was excellent," Diable said, clapping his hands as he turned back around, a wide smile deepening the wrinkles on his face. He stroked his grey beard, clearly pleased by Rest's attempt.
"To win, you must be willing to become a dog, a beast... That is the correct way of the magician. You show great potential."
"...Thank you," Rest grumbled, his face scrunching in frustration. Despite being praised, his ambush had failed. No matter how much praise he received, the lesson was clear—victory was all that mattered.
Diable chuckled as he watched Rest's frustrated expression.
"For the training ahead, there are two things we will focus on."
He raised two fingers, bending each one down in turn.
"First, you'll learn magic. I'll be teaching you spells useful in combat, so be sure to master them."
"...Understood."
"And second, we will engage in continuous mock battles. These won't be just any fights, though. You'll train in everything from hand-to-hand combat without magic to battles where only specific spells are allowed. We'll also have scenarios where you'll be handicapped, limiting your limbs or senses."
"..."
"My hand-to-hand combat techniques are unorthodox, so I won't be teaching you any formal martial arts. You'll have to figure that out on your own."
"...So, I'm supposed to steal the techniques?"
"Exactly."
Finally understanding, Rest stood back up.
Initially, he thought the combat training would be more traditional, like learning martial arts or practicing defensive techniques. But Diable's methods were far more practical—and ruthless.
(If I can defeat Diable, I'll definitely get stronger...!)
Not just Cedric—even his father, a current court magician, might not be able to stand against him.
"Now, let's start with your first spell. The one I'll teach you is called [Acceleration]. I'll demonstrate it first, so pay close attention."
"Yes, sir! Thank you... teacher!" Rest responded with newfound determination, bowing his head to the man who had now become his instructor.