The training field was massive—at least two to three times the size of a soccer field.
Just looking at it made one wonder if a lap or two would be enough.
‘No time for useless thoughts.’
Richard shook off the idle idea.
He had to run as much as he could.
He started sprinting along the edge.
“Huff, huff!”
By the third lap, he realized just how out of shape his body was.
His spirit was willing, but his body was weak.
Breath came short, and sweat poured down despite not running that much.
He had inherited the Bartenberg bloodline, but his stamina was pitiful—a result of years of neglect.
‘Not yet,’ he thought.
Five laps in, his lungs burned, and his body overheated despite the chilly morning air.
“Huff… cough!”
His whole body screamed in pain.
His arms and legs ached from continuous movement.
‘Still… not yet. I haven’t felt what I’m looking for.’
Seven laps passed.
Time became meaningless.
After ten laps, he lost count entirely.
His limbs trembled, his breath ragged, his mind fading.
He felt like he was running toward an endless goal.
Voices of doubt whispered from within.
‘You can try again tomorrow. You’ve done well enough.’
Richard clenched his teeth.
That wasn’t even worth answering.
And at that moment—
“…!”
Something inside him loosened.
A faint, but distinct sensation.
[Due to physical strain, a portion of residual mana in the body has been absorbed.]
Words appeared in front of his eyes.
Some of the stuck mana had flowed into his heart, and another portion fused with his body.
“Huff—Good!”
His legs pushed forward with new strength.
Several observing knights widened their eyes.
The man who seemed about to collapse now ran with renewed energy.
It was subtle, but trained knights noticed the difference.
“…Did he pace himself?”
Aaron, who had been watching discreetly, murmured.
Richard had probably run 16 laps by now.
He was panting again, drained of energy—but he didn’t stop.
He would tire, regain vigor, then tire again—this repeated several times.
“Huff… huff…”
Four hours passed.
Richard was still running.
The knights watching bore mixed expressions on their faces.
***
Elsewhere, a middle-aged man asked:
“You refused before—why the change of heart now?”
Sweat dripped from Gide’s brow.
He struggled to meet the overwhelming gaze of the man before him—Richard’s father, Ludwig Bartenberg, head of the family and strongest swordsman on the continent.
“I asked you. Why are you returning to the 3rd Knight Order?”
Gide steadied his breath and answered…
“Because Young Master Richard is trying to change.”
“Change?” Ludwig’s brow twitched.
“Perhaps it’s this old man’s foolishness. But I want to give him wings.”
Gide met his gaze, unwavering.
“For 16 years, I’ve never left his side. I’ve seen hope, and I’ve seen despair. Now I want to give him new hope.”
Ludwig closed his eyes, picturing his youngest son—his weakest and most painful failure.
He reopened them to look at Gide.
He knew the old knight’s loyalty and deep affection well.
That’s why he hated this idea.
“Denied.”
He couldn’t lose a loyal servant for the sake of a single son.
“You know what mission the 3rd Order is on, don’t you?”
Dragon subjugation. A request from the northeastern Kingdom of Brute.
“Yes. That’s why I came at once.”
Gide knelt.
He wanted to retrieve the dragon’s heart—one of the most powerful elixirs—and offer it to Richard.
“We don’t need Brute Kingdom’s support. I, Gide Meyer, former 3rd Order Commander, will go myself.”
“I repeat. You are not allowed to go.”
Even if the target was a young dragon, the 3rd Order alone couldn’t manage without aid. The risks were too great.
“Then I have no choice,” Gide said, taking out a gold badge—a token of honor and a promise granted by the lord himself. Ludwig’s face hardened.
“It’s time to return this.”
Determination shone in Gide’s eyes.
“I’ll burn this old body if needed. Please deliver the Dragon Heart to the Young Master!”
Ludwig sighed.
He commanded the north, yet he couldn’t bend this one old man’s will.
“I won’t reinstate you to the 3rd Order,” Ludwig said coldly.
“Your return would only cause confusion. Instead, you’ll join the mission as Richard’s butler and guard.”
***
“Ughhh…”
On the way back to his room, Richard was utterly drained.
Every muscle screamed.
He could barely lift a finger and would’ve crawled if a knight hadn’t helped him.
That same knight had guided him to the training grounds and now helped him back.
As it turned out, the knight was Gide’s grandson, Aaron Meyer—a future talent known as the “Spear Demon.”
“That’s who he was?”
His vibe was so different from what Richard remembered—no scar across his face yet.
Probably hadn’t been injured yet.
Thinking about Aaron, Richard looked at his hands.
His body was wrecked, but a deep sense of accomplishment welled in his chest.
The mana stuck in his body had finally begun to move.
It was a small step, but the effort had paid off.
He closed his eyes and focused on the mana in his heart—but his Mana Insensitivity made it difficult.
He could barely sense a faint stir.
“This won’t do.”
He pushed divine power toward his chest.
[Curing the target’s ‘Mana Insensitivity.’]
[Mana Insensitivity has been alleviated.]
And again—
“…!”
That same loosening sensation.
[Due to physical strain, a portion of residual mana in the body has been absorbed.]
“Don’t rush it,” he told himself.
Right now, he needed strength.
He would continue his training and seize the opportunity when it came.
Just then—
Knock knock.
A visitor came in the middle of the night.
It was Gide, carrying bags.
“What, running away somewhere? You were gone all day.”
Gide smiled gently and bowed.
“Young Master, I’ve received a mission from the Lord. I won’t be around for a while.”
“What?”
What kind of mission was this?
“A butler with a mission? You’re not even a knight anymore.”
“Even a retired knight must serve where he’s needed,” Gide said with a soft but pained look.
Richard scratched his head, suddenly awkward.
It seemed like a heavy task had been laid upon the old man.
“Be careful. And think about your age.”
“I’m sorry to leave like this. Please take care of yourself. And… please don’t stop your training.”
With that, Gide turned away.
Feeling strange, Richard escorted him all the way to the gate of the small palace.