Days passed, and Javelin and I trained relentlessly. Each session felt like torture, as if I were on the brink of death. We had only trained for two days, but the intensity made it feel like a lifetime.
On the first day, Javelin taught me how to wield the sword he had given me. It wasn't going well. Every attack I attempted was wild and uncontrollable. Each strike carried devastating power, enough to destroy a small town with ease, but it drained me. Just holding the sword was enough to make me feel faint.
Javelin's frustration was clear. "Even with my guidance, you can barely manage a controlled attack. Your strikes are strong, but they lack precision. Power without control is meaningless. That's why, alongside swordsmanship, I'm teaching you to manage your power."
He instructed me to sit down and close my eyes. "Place the sword aside. Now, imagine a small flame burning steadily within your chest—a flame that never disappears."
I did as he said, focusing on the image of the flame. Soon, I felt intense heat spreading through my body, as if I were being consumed by fire. My skin felt like it was burning.
"It hurts!" I exclaimed.
"Bear with it," Javelin ordered. "Now imagine that fire spreading, forming an aura around your body. A red aura of controlled mana."
I tried repeatedly, but every time I failed, the flames burned me. Javelin absorbed the mana effortlessly each time, showing no signs of discomfort. I couldn't help but marvel at his ability. Who is this man? How can he control such power so easily?
Finally, after what felt like hours, I managed to maintain the aura for five minutes.
Javelin sighed, clearly disappointed. "I had higher hopes for you. Rest for now."
As he left the room, he called over a mage and instructed them to freeze the entire chamber, leaving only a small area around me untouched. "Try not to die. You'll stay here tonight."
One of the knights hesitated. "At this rate, he'll freeze to death!"
Javelin slapped him across the face. "Did I ask for your opinion? Shut the door, or do you want to join him in the ice?"
The knight hurried to obey, shutting the door firmly. The freezing air bit into my skin, and I felt my body numbing rapidly.
"Hey, you nasty whisper," I muttered through chattering teeth. "Got any advice? Your power is fire, isn't it?"
"Nice of you to call me," the voice replied sarcastically. "Although the 'nasty' part wasn't necessary. Anyway, melting the ice would only kill you. The hot steam would scald you alive. Your best bet is to surround yourself with a fire aura."
"Thanks for nothing," I grumbled.
I started forming the fire aura, managing to maintain it for only two minutes before exhaustion forced me to stop. The cold was relentless, and I tried again and again, pushing through the pain and fatigue. By the end of the night, I had mastered it enough to keep the aura around me even while I slept.
The next morning, Javelin opened the door and stepped inside. His expression betrayed a hint of satisfaction. "Good. You're still alive. You've got determination and persistence—I like that."
I barely stirred, having slept for only an hour.
Javelin tossed a crystal bottle at me. "Drink this. It's a mana potion. Your family's using a teleportation gate—they'll be here tomorrow. Lucky you, getting to see your father again. I bet you're thrilled."
I glared at him but said nothing as I drank the potion. Almost immediately, I felt mana coursing through my body.
Training resumed, and this time, I could feel the difference. My mana control had improved drastically, and for the first time, I felt like I was in command of the sword. Waves of joy washed over me as I realized I was finally harnessing magic.
Javelin noticed my enthusiasm and smirked. "Happy? Don't get too cocky. I went easy on you. You've made progress, but you've still got a long way to go. Train hard, royal kid. Your family will be here soon, and I've got a demon-slaying mission to handle. Maybe we'll meet again someday."
I couldn't hide my gratitude. "Just a few more hours, no—a few more minutes. Training with you has felt like a fairy tale. I'll never forget this."
Javelin laughed, clutching his sides. "A fairy tale? What are you, some kind of little girl? Listen, Lion, you've got a lot to learn. Trust yourself, follow your heart, and don't get complacent."
As he left, he glanced over his shoulder and muttered, "Take care of Lion for me."
"What did you say?" I called after him.
"Nothing important." He turned to the guards. "Take him to the guest room and prepare some decent clothes. We don't want the royal family thinking we've mistreated their precious son. Farewell, little brother."
The guards escorted me to a guest room and handed me a set of fine clothes. I changed and waited. After some time, the door opened, and a line of knights stood at attention.
"The head of the Phoenix family has arrived!" one of them announced.
Everyone in the room stood to greet the visitor—except me. My father, Lord Hassan, entered, walking past the knights without a glance.
"So, what do we have here?" he said, his tone cold. "My troublesome, failure of a son."
I smirked. "Hi, shitty father. Long time no see."