Third Person's POV
*Poke* *Poke* "Is that it? Just twenty-five?"
"JUST?!" Alaric's voice cracked, a hoarse rasp clawing its way out of his throat as his chest heaved. Alaric was lying on the ground, sweat pouring down his face like a stream.
Elowen smirked looking at Alaric who had just gained consciousness after passing out.
"Yes. Just. What are you going to do, lie down and cry when you are captured while trying to flee? Ew. You know the shortest region—Serpent's Run—is twenty-four kilometers, and that's not even a good comparison because it is all water, barely any land."
"Why... Haah... Why the hell are you comparing it then?" Exhaustion doesn't stop Alaric from acting like a smartass.
"Because I want to," Elowen said with a snort before continuing with a solemn look, "There's no strength in you yet, none worth speaking of. You're like a candle in a storm—one gust and you're snuffed out. You won't make improvements in anything you train if you need a break after every three minutes."
Alaric had to suck the reality up, he looked away very well aware of his weakness, he has seen it first hand after all.
Elowen was silent for some reason but Alaric had things to ask. "Granny, what do I do?" Alaric turned to look at Elowen, a small smile on her face.
"The same thing you did today. I want you to run every single day. Run without stopping, run until you pass out cold and the second you wake up you get back to running. The only time you rest is at night when you are going to sleep, and if you get sick. Don't skip meals and most importantly, Sleep for at least 8 to 10 hours. You are still young, sleeping is one of the biggest factors in someone's growth. I would rather not have a grandson who is a bulky midget."
"You should have kept the last part in your head." Alaric groaned to himself.
"So how long do I keep this up?"
"Until you can run one hundred and twenty-five rounds in one single go without passing out," Elowen said with a straight face.
[Ding! New Task.]
[Task: Run laps around the training grounds. (0/125)]
[Reward: 100,000 Aurel points]
Alaric didn't know what to stare at with disbelief, the new panel that had just appeared in front of him or what the woman who was staring at him with her chocolate-brown eyes. He wanted to think that his ears weren't working properly but that was impossible with what the system was showing him.
"T-that's impossible, ho—"
"Impossible? That's a word for the fearful, the broken. It's the lie the weak tell themselves to make excuses. Remember this, Alaric, 'Impossible' is the last refuge of those without the will to succeed. The moment you start believing in possibilities, you've already lost," Elowen turned around and faced away from Alaric, "Running won't be the only thing you do before your actual training for a fight begins, you are still young so you have time. I will make sure you have enough stamina, physical strength and a cultivation level with which you can easily take whatever sort of training you want. Be it being a mage, an archer, a swordsman or even a person who uses bare fists, all of it will be much easier to practice and master if you follow what I say. Now get up and run… don't lose patience, I know you that you want strength but that doesn't come quick and easy."
***
Elowen's POV
I drifted toward the arbor, my eyes lingering on Alaric over my shoulders for one last time as he pushed himself back into a shaky run. It really is a sour feeling, I don't want to see him pass out… I can't deny him though, the look in his eyes wasn't of someone who would sit down just because he was told to do so. If he hadn't started running again I would have told him to not train, after all, he was still a child.
But again.
Alaric was not ordinary and not to mention he is tenacious. Far more than I'd expected, really. A seven-year-old forming a core was already a surprise that would have alerted the royalties themselves but for a quiet child who never stirred trouble like the others, never demanded attention… this urge to gain strength was surprising.
'Well, we will see if he can keep this up or not soon anyways.'
Though I had to say, I wasn't expecting his first run to be more than Novius. I was honestly expecting it to be lower than Lily's because of how inactive Alaric is in his everyday life. He simply blends into the background, more like a shadow than a child his age. He moves silently through the halls, even as a child I have not seen him create the chaos that usually follows a boy. Running seemed too much to ask from someone like him. I turned to look at him once more, I could tell he would soon pass out again but I decided to not tell him to stop.
'Twenty-five rounds, that's somewhere around twenty kilometers.'
Xironia's voice cut through my thoughts, "Mother, aren't you being too rough?" Her words were soft, but the concern behind them was unmistakable.
"It's necessary..." My eyes caught a glimpse of my son's face while I was talking to Xironia. The corner of his mouth twitched, a barely contained smile fighting to surface.
"Novius, saw something interesting?" I asked though I was very much aware of the answer.
"Mother, don't pretend you didn't notice," Novius glanced at the butlers. Valen and Caelum stood frozen, their mouths slightly ajar, clearly unprepared for what they'd witnessed today.
"Of course I have."
"Mother always starts with this." Novius turned to Xironia, his hand placed on her shoulder, comforting her, "I barely managed fourteen kilometers before I collapsed when it was my first day. Getting up again? Impossible."
Hearing Novius the butlers' eyes were on him now, they glared at their master with the same amount of surprise as they were just doing to Alaric.
Xironia noticed my gaze and just to poke fun she smirked and asked "And you two? How far did you manage?" their expressions of not wanting to say so they could avoid the comparison were obvious but they sighed and answered.
"I did a bit more than seven."
"Me too."
Both Valen and Caelum answered.
"Eirlys... she managed the longest," I said, the memories of these siblings, fresh-faced and determined after forming their cores, flooded my mind.
"Running's not the hard part," Novius muttered, his brow creased as he spoke, "It's getting back up after you hear a goal so absurd. Alaric's got the worst I've seen... for someone his age? It's already great that he is still running, but that won't be for long."
I nodded, he was not wrong. I was finding it hard to believe that he was still upright and moving albeit extremely slow.
"It's not that absurd," I said, keeping my tone firm. "You all had goals suited to your strength. The Everharts ran forty kilometers. Eirlys managed fifty. You? Eighty. Alaric's bettered all of you, so his challenge matches that. It's well within his reach. I can't belittle his abilities and give him the same as you all, that would be disrespecting my grandson's determination."
I continued and the others listened to me silently, "And take a look at him... it's not the goal that's absurd, it's him. A boy so quiet, always with a book in hand or lying idle, and yet his stamina surprises even me. But he's flawed—shuffling feet, ragged breath, no sense of pace… Valen, he is about to fall, please be ready to pick him up."
All eyes shifted to Alaric as his legs wobbled, trembling under his weight. He took a few more faltering steps before collapsing, a heap on the ground.
I gave Valen a nod. Without a word, he moved to collect the boy, who lay limp on the ground.
"When I return, he'll be aware of his mistakes," I murmured, more to myself than anyone else.
"When will you come back?" Novius asked, his gaze fixed on me, demanding an answer. I only smiled.
"Six months," I replied with a faint smile. "Even I have duties to attend to." I glanced down at my grandson, his chest still rising and falling with labored breaths where Valen had laid him.
'These past few decades have been... unsettling. Too many peculiar souls were born in such a short span… A turmoil is being weaved."