"Huh—"

Charles peeled off his sweat-soaked shirt, tossing it to the ground. In the sun, beads of sweat ran down his back, which had transformed dramatically in just three months. No longer the frail boy he’d been, Charles now had a stronger frame, with arms visibly thicker and well-defined abs. He wasn't a muscle-bound giant like Jack, but his physique had become far more powerful.

Today marked his last day under Jack’s tutelage—a graduation ceremony, of sorts. And as expected, there was a final exam. Whether Jack had faith in him or just wanted to test his limits, Charles’s opponents were the three soldiers who had been training him, each an experienced warrior of the first sequence. Three against one: three battle-hardened soldiers against a young noble just starting his combat training.

But Charles won. In less than three minutes, he had decisively defeated all three. Ten days ago, he’d broken through to the second sequence, advancing from Wind Messenger to Wind Herald.

Charles hadn’t fully understood how he advanced—he’d simply trained daily, storing energy in his body until, one day, a rush of new knowledge surged into his mind.

With his newfound powers, his physical abilities had skyrocketed, and he could now easily handle three first-sequence wind warriors.

He clenched his fist, and air currents danced along with the movement. Although these currents couldn’t inflict damage on their own, when focused around his fist, they became a powerful gust, significantly enhancing his strikes.

A slow clap came from the shadows. Jack, no longer surprised by Charles’s feats, was now resigned to them. In terms of resilience and determination, Charles was far more disciplined than any twelve-year-old Jack had ever known.

“Charles, after these three months, you’re ready to stand on your own in battle. I’m sure your father will be relieved to send you to Violet Academy now.”

Charles bowed slightly. Jack’s training had been valuable—more than Charles expected, especially since Jack had even brought in specialists from the army to aid in his learning. It had changed Charles's perspective of his uncle, though he held no gratitude for Jack. After all, Jack had harmed others with the blue-blooded dagger and was still driven by personal gains.

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“By the way, your father wants to speak with you alone. Head to his room when you’re ready.”

Jack departed swiftly, eager to return to the army.

The Duke wanted to see him? With a bucket of water, Charles took a deep breath and doused himself, letting the cool water wash away the sweat. Since starting his training, he’d grown fond of refreshing himself this way, even if it lacked the nobility expected of his status.

----------------------------------------

"Charles is a genius, excelling in every way beyond his generation," reported the butler, dressed impeccably in a black suit. He had served the Duke’s family for nearly thirty years and was trusted implicitly.

The Duke nodded thoughtfully, though his attention was on the letter before him, sealed with beeswax and stamped with the Gilensel family’s crest—a roaring lion, symbolizing one of the six blue-blood noble families.

As he traced the seal with a fingertip, the Duke smirked. "Alan, take a guess—what do you think it says?"

The butler, head bowed and visibly anxious, dared not speculate on his master’s thoughts.

The Duke sipped his tea, savoring it. “This old fox always has his schemes…”

The butler was spared further tension by a knock at the door. He quickly ushered in Charles, grateful to escape the Duke’s unpredictable mood.

Dressed neatly, Charles entered and bowed. "Father, you wanted to see me?"

The Duke tucked the letter away, gesturing for Charles to sit. "I heard from Jack that you’re quite the fighter."

Charles shook his head modestly. "I wouldn’t say that, Father. I simply completed my training tasks."

The Duke sipped his tea, his eyes steady. “Young people should be a bit more confident.”

Charles remained silent, uncertain of his father’s purpose.

“One good news, one bad news—which do you want first?”

After a brief hesitation, Charles replied, “Bad news.”

The Duke’s expression turned steely. “Miss Isa Wilton has declined to marry you.”

Charles’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“Curious as to why?” The Duke’s tone turned sly.

“She’s fallen for your brother Okogie. In fact, they’re engaged. According to the Wiltons, the two are in love.”

The Duke scrutinized Charles, but his son’s expression remained neutral.

“Okogie is three years her senior; he’s of marriageable age too,” Charles replied calmly.

The Duke chuckled. “As long as she marries one of my sons, it doesn’t much matter who. So, Charles, your engagement with Isa Wilton is nullified.”

Placing the letter with the Gilensel family’s seal back on his desk, the Duke continued, “But I did say there was good news.”

Charles eyed the envelope, recognizing the Gilensel crest.

The Duke held up the letter for him to see. “You may have lost one engagement, but you’ve gained another.”

“The Gilensels have a genius daughter, and they’ve proposed a marriage to secure our alliance.”

“So, Charles,” the Duke said with a wry smile, “your fiancée has changed.”