Auralis barely had the strength to react as the old general, Hercules, helped him to a comfortable spot, his battered body unable to do much more than slouch in exhaustion. The pain was unbearable, but he couldn't help but feel a small flicker of hope reignite within him. Hercules had taken him in, tended to his wounds, and spoke with a strange mixture of sternness and care.
"You did well," Hercules said gruffly, inspecting the bloodied mess that was Auralis's body. "But you lost to a weak vampire. And why? Because you're weak." His words were blunt, cutting through the air like a sword.
Auralis, too tired to argue, simply nodded. He didn't have the energy for a retort. The truth stung more than any of his injuries, and the weight of it hung heavy in his chest. He had almost died in that dungeon. The overwhelming sense of failure gnawed at him, and he knew the old man was right. He had a long way to go.
Hercules, as if sensing the internal turmoil, gave a deep sigh and smirked. "But I can train you. I've seen something in you. You're talented, but you need focus, discipline, and above all else—strength. Not just strength of the body, but of the mind and spirit."
Auralis's heart skipped a beat at the offer. This was what he had been searching for—the chance to truly grow, to surpass his limits, to become stronger than anyone else.
"I'll train you," Hercules said, crossing his arms and glaring at Auralis. "But before you get all excited, there's something you need to do for me. First, bring me good booze—better than what's been passed around the taverns in the city. I want quality. Second, you're staying here, on this mountain. You'll hunt the beasts that live here, and you'll learn what it means to survive without the comfort of the city. And third, when you go into town, you'll buy me food. Not just any food, but the finest meat, the most exotic ingredients. And you will eat what I say. No complaints. Understand?"
Auralis was stunned for a moment. He had expected training, but not this. The old general seemed to be testing not just his strength but his will. The conditions seemed... strange, but the fire in Auralis's chest burned brighter. This was a test, and he wasn't about to back down.
"Of course," Auralis replied, his voice raspy but filled with determination. "I'll do whatever it takes."
Hercules chuckled, looking Auralis up and down. "Good. Then let's start. And don't even think about slacking off. You might have gotten by on raw talent, but that won't last long out here. I'm going to push you harder than you've ever been pushed, and if you can't handle it, then we're done. But if you stick with it, then maybe... just maybe... you'll become something worth fighting."
Auralis's eyes burned with resolve. He had failed before, but that failure would fuel him now. With Hercules's guidance and his relentless pursuit of strength, he would rise—stronger than any challenge, any foe. He would not just become a warrior; he would become a legend.
But first, he had to get the booze.
"Alright," Auralis said, nodding. "I'll bring you the best booze you've ever had."
Hercules's smirk widened. "Good. I'll hold you to that. Now, get some rest. Tomorrow, the real work begins."
Auralis laid back against the rock, his body aching, but his mind racing. He had a long road ahead of him, but for the first time since the battle with the vampire, he felt like there was a way forward. A path to true strength. And he would walk it—no matter the cost.
Auralis's mind was racing as he lay there, recovering from his grueling journey and the deadly trials inside the dungeon. His body was broken and battered, but his will was as strong as ever. He knew he had to follow through with his promise to Hercules. The old general had made it clear that only through complete dedication would Auralis achieve the strength he sought.
He thought back to the task at hand—the booze. He knew of an old man, a merchant who specialized in rare and exquisite drinks, but the man lived far away, too far for a simple trip on foot. This meant that Auralis would have to rely on his noble status, something he had tried to keep hidden during his time in the army.
He reached out to one of his trusted servants, someone who had been loyal to his family for years. The servant's voice was laced with concern when he answered.
"Young Master, where have you been? We've been looking for you everywhere. What happened to you? You're injured… covered in bandages," the servant asked, worry evident in his tone.
Auralis responded curtly, not wanting to reveal too much. "Don't worry about me. I need the best booze in the country and exotic food from Pirak Mountain. I'll be fine."
The servant hesitated, sensing something was wrong, but ultimately agreed, though he couldn't help but express his concern. "But Young Master, your father—he's worried. He wants to meet you."
Auralis clenched his teeth but didn't protest. He couldn't afford to show weakness, not now. "Don't worry about my father. Just get the items I need."
Reluctantly, the servant agreed and hung up, only to inform Auralis's father, as the old noble was bound to worry once he saw his son was missing.
A few days later, Auralis received the goods he had requested: rare bottles of liquor, fresh, exotic ingredients, and some medicine for his injuries. But there was something else—his father had followed the servant and had come to meet him.
Auralis knew this moment was inevitable. His father, a man of power and influence, would not let his son go without questioning him. As the servant brought the supplies, Auralis's father slipped in, his stern eyes scanning his son's battered form. His gaze softened for a moment, but the concern was clear.
"Auralis," his father said in a low, steady voice, "Where have you been? What happened to you? Why are you covered in bandages? What is going on?"
Auralis, though reluctant, explained everything in a quiet, calm voice—how he had entered the dungeon, how he had fought the monsters, and how he had come face to face with the old general, Hercules. He told his father of the challenges he faced, of the training he was undergoing, and of his ultimate goal to grow stronger, with no connections or influence from his noble family.
His father listened, his expression unreadable at first. When Auralis finished, the old man spoke.
"If you want to become a knight or join the army, I can help you. I know a lot of influential people. I can make things easier for you."
But Auralis shook his head. "No, Father. I don't want to use our name or our connections. I want to grow on my own, without relying on anyone. I have a mission—something that can speed up my journey, but it's going to be incredibly hard. If Commander Herly thought I would fail, then that means I have to prove her wrong. I have to become stronger to accomplish it."
His father stared at him, a long silence hanging in the air. He finally sighed, rubbing his temples in frustration. "It will take ages to climb the ranks without help, Auralis. You can't do it alone. You don't understand how difficult this path is."
Auralis met his father's gaze, his eyes unwavering. "No, it won't take ages. I'll complete my mission, and in doing so, I'll prove my worth. I'll make my way forward. Just like you once did."
His father gave him one last, lingering look before shaking his head. "If that's your decision, I'll support you. But remember, you're on your own now."
As his father left, Auralis stood up, feeling a wave of determination wash over him. His father's words were heavy, but they didn't sway him. He knew what he had to do. The mission ahead of him wasn't just about gaining strength—it was about proving to himself that he could become something greater than his bloodline.
Meanwhile, Hercules, who had been watching silently, gave a low chuckle. "Well, now that you've got your supplies, it's time to get back to work. No more excuses. No more hiding behind your family's name."
Auralis, his wounds still fresh but his resolve even stronger, nodded. "I'm ready."
Hercules smiled, though it was more of a smirk than anything else. "Good. Now let's get to training."
And so, Auralis's journey continued, each step taking him further from the comfort of his noble life and closer to the raw, unforgiving strength he so desperately sought.