Aldrich sat in the bath, feeling the warm water lap against his skin.
His young body was submerged in the basin, surrounded by more maids than he could count, each one meticulously washing him as though he were made of porcelain.
He let out a small sigh, his mind spinning with a complaint that had been building for the past hour.
"Is all this necessary? I'm only meeting the Countess," he asked, his voice edged with annoyance.
The maids didn't answer, either too absorbed in their work or too used to such complaints.
Perhaps it was because he was young, only eight years old, that they didn't seem to care that they were bathing a male.
Or maybe, they were simply professionals who had long since dismissed such thoughts.
Either way, Aldrich found the whole process tiring.
It wasn't the fact that they were washing him that bothered him; it was everything that had come before.
Since being told he would have breakfast with the Countess, Aldrich had been bombarded with lectures on etiquette.
Formality after formality was drilled into him, all of which he deemed unnecessary for a simple meal.
The maids had then rushed in, setting about grooming him, and as if that weren't enough, a tailor had arrived, taking his measurements with surprising speed.
She promised to have his outfit ready in less than an hour.
"Does it really take that little time to sew a whole outfit?" Aldrich mused aloud. "And for breakfast, no less?"
Selina, the maid he had gotten close to, chuckled softly as she scrubbed his back.
"This much is required to qualify to be at the same table as the Countess," she explained, her voice calm but firm.
Aldrich exhaled and sank back into the water.
"I suppose," he muttered, resigning himself to the inevitable.
He couldn't fight the endless stream of formalities, so he decided to enjoy the moment, at least a little.
The warm water was soothing, and despite his irritation, the maids were doing a thorough job.
"Have you undergone any training?" Selina asked after a moment, her hands pausing.
"Your body is quite firm for someone so young."
Aldrich blinked at the compliment. "Ah, yes," he replied.
"I've done a bit of this and that in preparation for when my Ki core forms. I wanted my body to be at its peak when it happens."
The original Aldrich had trained his body rigorously, even as a small child, with the hope that a stronger physique would lead to a larger and more powerful Ki core.
A larger core meant the ability to store more Ki, and Ki, after all, was everything.
Some people were born with small cores, barely able to contain enough energy for a few minutes of use.
Others were blessed with cores so vast that they could go on with it for hours without tiring.
And then there were the average ones, whose cores were just large enough to last a decent amount of time.
But once a Ki core formed, its size was permanent.
One's fate was sealed.
'That was how it was in the original plot,' Aldrich thought to himself.
The imbalance between those born with vast Ki reserves and those with barely any had tilted the power dynamics in the world.
In response to complaints from the readers, the author introduced Ki refinement stages: Initial, Adept, Expert, and Arcane.
The stages made it so that one could refine their Ki, process it into a better version, making even a drop of it lethal.
It allowed even those with smaller Ki cores to improve their proficiency, turning it into a battle of quality over quantity.
However when all was said and done, mystics with a larger Ki core had the starting advantage.
"You're one of those," Selina said, bringing Aldrich back to the present. "Those who dream of walking the path of mystics."
"Of course," Aldrich replied. "Who wouldn't want to be a mystic?"
As someone who had seen the world from a novel's standpoint, it only made sense that he would want to tilt over to the side that made this world... Unique.
And being a mystic? That is the real deal. Nothing can ever top that.
'They are so special that they have a whole community dedicated to them alone.' he mused.
The continent according to the book, was divided into two orders: the National Order and the Mystic Order.
The National Order governed the five great nations, while the Mystic Order oversaw mystic affairs.
Three institutions fell under the Mystic Order's banner: the Mystic Society, the Eldora Institute, and the Keeper's Forge.
The Mystic Society, a sanctuary for mystics, was founded by three prominent clans, with the Aldaman clan being one of them.
Eldora Institute served as a school, a place where young mystics trained and honed their skills.
And finally, the Keeper's Forge, a military organization, ensured that rogue mystics were dealt with swiftly and justly.
The world had been divided like this after the Banquet, the first world war that nearly drove humanity to extinction.
It was after that bloody event that humans settled on the continent of Eldorado, short for Eldora, and termed a Human continent by races from other continents.
Eldora continent split their governance between national interests and mystic concerns.
While the National order caters for citizen's interests based on their national origin, the mystic order works on an intercontinental stage, catering for the interest of humans under one banner.
The mystic order dealt with events involving other races. And the authority they held as an organization precedes that of the Nationa order.
This was done to prevent future disasters and promote efficiency through clear objective acquisition.
"Doesn't seem like it worked," Aldrich mused.
Despite all the precautions, a second Banquet had broken out.
Humanity had nearly fallen again, saved only by the hero, Liam.
Liam had become a legend, acknowledged by all the races after his heroic actions stopped the second war.
It was also the event that boosted his status on a world level, acknowledging him as one of the crucial characters.
It had attained him recognition from the leaders of the other race.
"All done," Selina announced, pulling Aldrich out of his thoughts.
The maids stepped back, allowing him to rise and take a look at himself in the mirror.
Aldrich stared at his reflection.
Long, silver hair flowed down his back, a striking feature that marked him as a true Aldaman.
The Aldaman clan's lineage was unmistakable, their silver hair an exclusive trait, along with their keen intelligence and legendary mystic abilities.
Selina smiled as she watched him. "You're quite the casanova, even at this age," she teased, clearly charmed by his looks.
Aldrich couldn't help but grin. "That's to be expected," he said, turning to catch his reflection from another angle.
His striking features were undeniable, almost inhumanly perfect.
"Alright then," he said, straightening his new clothes. "Let's get on with this. I'm ready to meet the Countess."
----
Apologies for the info dump. This much is necessary to move the plot forward and scratch that ache you have been getting since starting this novel.