Chapter 8 – Training Ground
After their tea—
(or rather, chocolate milk time for Ignes)—
Ignes and his father walked toward the training grounds.
It was a large open space where knights usually trained.
Or… used to.
Now, it was quieter.
There were fewer knights.
The same was true for mages.
The war between demons and humans had taken too much.
Both sides had nearly wiped out their armies.
If the war had continued, both sides would have been destroyed completely.
That was not the goal.
So—
A ceasefire had been declared.
There would be time.
Time for new blood.
---
Ignes walked beside his father, thinking.
New blood…
I used to think that meant new soldiers had to cut their hands and let their blood join the army…
He paused.
…Why did my brain imagine that?
And why was there a whole river of blood in the background?
That's not recruitment—that's a horror scene.
Why were there eyeballs hanging too—
Stop. Stop. Wrong direction.
---
Alexander stopped walking.
They had reached the center of the training ground.
He turned to Ignes.
"Your brother will train you starting tomorrow," he said.
"But today, I will handle it."
Ignes straightened slightly.
"If you want to be a swordsman," Alexander continued, "you need a strong body."
He pointed toward the open field.
"Push-ups. Sit-ups. Jumping. Running laps."
"Five hundred each."
Ignes blinked once.
Alexander's tone didn't change.
"Start now."
"I want to see you finish everything before sunset."
"And you are not allowed to use magic to strengthen your body."
---
Ignes smiled slightly.
"Alright."
"Sounds like a challenge."
"Let's start."
---
At first—
It was easy.
Push-ups.
Sit-ups.
Jumps.
Running.
His movements were steady, controlled.
No shaking.
No strain.
Not even sweat.
Alexander watched silently from the side.
Halfway… and he's still fine.
---
But slowly—
Things began to change.
Ignes's breathing became heavier.
His arms trembled slightly during push-ups.
His legs felt heavier with each lap.
Sweat began to form on his face.
Droplets slid down his skin.
His pearl-white hair stuck slightly to his forehead.
Still—
He didn't stop.
---
More time passed.
Now his hands were shaking.
His legs felt unstable.
Each movement took effort.
Each breath was deeper than the last.
But his eyes remained calm.
Focused.
---
Alexander watched carefully.
This kid…
The explosion two years ago…
Did it make his body stronger?
Or… does he have talent for the sword?
He narrowed his eyes slightly.
That kind of resilience…
It's something a swordsman needs.
A mage needs intelligence.
And he has that too.
---
Alexander exhaled slowly.
At least…
No one outside this mansion knows that Igna is a mage.
(Igna—that was what his family called him.)
He chose to become a swordsman…
That's for the best.
He should stop using magic for now.
Even with divine protection—
It didn't matter.
There were always people in the world who were blind with greed.
And those people—
Would not hesitate to kill him out of jealousy.
---
Back on the field—
Ignes completed another set.
His arms dropped slightly for a moment.
His chest rose and fell as he breathed.
Sweat dripped to the ground.
But then—
He straightened again.
And continued.
---
The sun slowly moved toward the horizon.
And the training—
Was far from over.