Myrkas was surprised. He did not think his uncle would get angry on his behalf. Not a little bit but furious. It warmed Myrkas' insides. It reassured him a touch. He might not be such a burden to his last blood relative after all was said and done. Maybe, hopefully, Myrkas was only a small one.

"Of course not Koriss. I'll tell you what I saved your cute little nephew from himself!" Ranil answered without missing a beat. The large, raging man directly facing him did not faze Suna Ranil one iota.

"Saved him from his own idiocy. Your nephew here, was down in the Walnut Borough, trying to "save" an honest working girl from some well-earned coins. And well after sunset. Trying to sneak in and out of shadows like a two-bit thief.

"See, Myrkas here was damn lucky I was the one who caught him. Allrikh knows where he would have ended up. Could have been much, much worse. I'm sure you can imagine Koriss."

Koriss' anger visibly dimmed, banked but still present in the embers. The graying man kept his frown though, and his fists remained tight.

"Doesn't explain how Myrkas ended up fighting in the Underground, Suna. Don't you dare try to deny, we both know that's where you are coming from."

Cheerful, Suna Ranil continued.

"Well, you see Koriss, dear, dear old friend of mine, I thought little Myrkas needed to learn his lesson. To truly understand how foolish he was being.

"Thing is, the kid's got guts. Not like either you or his dumbass father, no offence. The usual wouldn't have worked, I guarantee. The kid would have gotten in trouble again, endangering this cute little rabbit. My conscience did not let me leave it be. I had to do something more.

"So I brought young Myrkas to the Underground. And low and behold, the kid resonated. Now, who am I to get in the way of talent? He did not need to ask, I took it upon myself to make sure he experienced the ring, the core of the Underground.

"Kid did good too! Great fight. Got a few good hits in. Lasted way longer than I expected. Made me some cash on some bets. Amazing night overall. Greatly recommend. A tremendous start."

Fury rekindled in Koriss' eyes. The man rose from his seat and bent over his "guest's" seat, bringing them face-to-face.

"Are you telling me you almost killed my only nephew, the last of the Hakhmir line for your sick entertainment?" Koriss spat in anger, his face tight, his voice raised only slightly but with an undeniably threatening growl underlying.

Myrkas shook in his chair, so glad to not be the one being addressed.

"Not only for my entertainment. To teach him the consequences of fucking around at night too!" replied Ranil, still cheerful and unperturbed.

The two men stared at each other for a while. Then Koriss sighed and went back to his seat, seemingly defeated.

"So what do you want, Suna? A thank you? A discount? Recognition for bringing him back mostly in one piece?"

"Oh no, no no no. That stuff's boring. I have a much better thing in mind. So fun! Look Koriss, the kid brought a rabbit with him."

As Ranil said so, the man grabbed the half-hidden rabbit by the nape and settled her in his lap. His smile grew as wide as it could, hindered by the scar running down his right cheekbone to his jaw, which gave him his characteristic, perpetual smirk.

"A rabbit for Allrikh's sake. In case something went wrong. That's gold! Pure comedy right there," Suna said, laughing. "No, no I want to train him, to take the kid under my graceful wing. Make him my little protégé. Maybe get him to really compete."

Madness, this was pure madness. Myrkas had caught the eye of a psychopath! Who wanted to "train" him. Myrkas could imagine all too well the Great Master Suna Ranil's version of "appropriate training." A frame show of torturous beatings and convoluted exercises that barely made sense spun in the boy's brain. All for his so-called Martial Master's amusement.

Dread spread through Myrkas, a too-familiar feeling by now. His uncle would refuse. Koriss was a sensible man. An upstanding citizen. While Myrkas didn't know how his uncle knew the mad thug, the boy was pretty certain the older man would protect him.

Myrkas had reflected greatly on his experience. Pain was not fun. Sure, the adrenaline rush was nice in the moment, but the aftermath made it not worth it. Meditation was not that boring. Myrkas would get stronger the slow, steady way. He resolved himself to question his uncle about cultivation. He did not need an unhinged Master. Slow and steady all the way. The journey to power was a marathon, not a sprint.

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Myrkas metaphorically straightened—he was too sore to actually do it, as the act of sitting in the chair and not falling asleep was already taking all his energy. He was readying his protests. Preparing to support his uncle's denial of Ranil's request.

"You would train him? Kalor's only living son? For what? To sabotage him?" Koriss said.

"Of course not! You know me better than that Koriss. I may be an asshole, but I'm an honest asshole. I'll make him great. Much better than that dead sucker ever was. Prove I can train his son better than he could have. Better than his "genius" firstborn your brother was so proud of. The ultimate face slap. The best way to get that coward to roll in his grave. It'll be such fun! We'll have a great time the kid and I."

Ranil was quite enthusiastic, to say the least. A manic glint shone in his hard gray eyes. Nothing to reassure Myrkas of the man's true intentions. The boy's future looked grim. This was not the training montage he had envisioned...

His uncle finally looked at Myrkas, amber eyes to amber eyes. With a flex of will, Myrkas kept his gaze steady. His intuition screamed at him to not let any weakness show in the vicinity of Suna Ranil. The stakes at play kept the boy fully awake at this ungodly hour.

"Kassa, you have a choice. You clearly were not busy enough if you had the time to get in such trouble," Koriss started. "I should have watched you better. Should have known a boy couldn't stay so quiet, would get up to no good. We'll up your studies and I'll start you on alchemy. If you really want to learn how to fight though, not the tame, tournament-style but true fighting, I'm sorry to say but Master Ranil is the best around. It'll have to be in addition to your regular studies. You are not getting around a proper education, boy."

Koriss settled deeper into his cushioned chair, rubbing his short beard as he continued.

"Suna is one of the strongest cultivators in this town. And I have seen him shape up his fair share of fearsome fighters. They all get poached by nobles though, don't they?

"It's your choice, Kassa. I won't force you. It's true your father would disapprove, but he is no longer here, is he? Not like he was doing such a great job anyway, from what I heard recently.

"Still, might be better if you learn how to survive, in case there's a draft, not that one is in sight but you never know. The Empire has a knack for sudden expansions."

Myrkas gulped. He did not want to choose. He would have preferred for his uncle to straight up refuse. To take any responsibility away from him. To reassure Myrkas he did not need the madman's guidance to get stronger faster.

The guy was obviously crazy, a maniac. Nothing good could come from this. No way was Ranil some great, beloved mentor looking for a new pupil to sate his thirst for teaching. His type did not get fulfilled by seeing others grow.

The brute enjoyed seeing twelve-year-olds get beat up; he acknowledged it himself! But Koriss thought the man could teach Myrkas how to fight proper, how to reach true martial strength. Power to protect, to stir his fate. And Ranil was a confirmed cultivator, or so said his uncle, even if he didn't exactly look like one.

This universe wasn't all Qi-rainbows and butterflies. Myrkas did not want to shelter inside walls for the rest of his life. He wanted, needed, to explore, to discover. In a safe and well-planned manner, of course. He wasn't that stupid.

"Uncle, what did you mean by draft?" Myrkas asked in the middle of his musings.

Apprehension rose inside the boy. He so wished he had misheard. Myrkas did not like the concept of a "draft" in a state with a strong military focus and expansionist tendencies. It sounded like bad news. Like terrible, terrible news. Like a good way to die a pitiful death surrounded by colourless, unnamed soldiers.

Koriss looked at his nephew for a moment, pensive.

"Don't worry too much Kassa. The Empire is at peace for now. The last war ended three years ago and the last draft was a year before that. The Empire is strong. General Jinyingk prevented any major losses. We would need a great conflict indeed to warrant another military draft in the near future. You'll likely be safe and grown by then."

What foreboding words! Myrkas did not like that, he did not like it one bit. His quest for power had acquired added urgency. There was no way Myrkas was going into the army while weak. He would not be bullied! Bad things happened to weak ones in testosterone-filled environments. Strength was essential to survive and to have a better chance of finding brothers-at-arms instead of attracting bullies. Respected people did not get sent on suicide missions. Weaklings did.

Worst, if Myrkas ever met the princely original main character, he would need every advantage to survive the shit-show surrounding His Highness. The boy raged just thinking about it. Stupid Imperial Harem and complicated succession politics. Couldn't half-brothers get along? Scheming murder was so distasteful.

Mind made, Myrkas turned to face Suna Ranil.

"Teach me well, Martial Master."

Then the boy stood and bowed as per martial tradition.

"Excellent! Such a polite pupil. I'm so lenient, I'll let you rest a nonat before we start."

On those words, Ranil stood and made to leave. Using strength he did not know he had in reserve, Myrkas blocked his new Master's way.

"Hum, Master Ranil, Sir, you can give me back Snow, my bunny, now."

"Ah! Look at that. It was so comfy I did not notice. I almost inadvertently left with it. I'll go now, see you in a nonat."

Suna Ranil headed to the exit again, a white ball of fluff with light-pink eyes still in the man's arms. Relentless, Myrkas stood in his way yet again.

"If you leave Snow here, I'll bring the other one too when I train. Two cuddly rabbits are better than one, believe me," Myrkas offered.

"Deal!" replied Ranil, leaving for real, without "bunny napping" this time.

If Myrkas purposefully ignored Snow's subsequent murderous glare, well who would blame him? He wasn't selling her sister, he only meant to ensure Snow's safety at the moment.

"Go straight to bed, Kassa," Koriss declared. "We will talk further tomorrow."

"Yes, uncle!"

A chill went down Myrkas' spine, a mix of trepidation and the late hour. He hoped the morrow's discussion did not bring further unpleasant surprises.