The morning sun cast a soft, golden glow over the camp, slowly dispelling the lingering shadows of the night. A sense of quiet relief hung in the air, broken only by the rustle of leaves and the distant call of a bird. Yet the memory of the previous day's battle remained fresh, a stark reminder of the dangers lurking in the wilderness.

Despite their recent challenges, Arvind and his party faced the new day with a cautious optimism. As the sun climbed higher, the promise of another journey lay before them. The obstacles they had already overcome only fueled their determination to confront whatever lay ahead.

Inside his tent, Arvind wrestled with a mix of emotions as he replayed yesterday's events in his mind. The clash with the wolf pack had shaken him deeply, leaving him to confront his own limitations. He felt helpless, a burden among his own men. In the thick of the fight, he'd realized just how far he was from the strength his knights displayed—a strength he had always taken for granted as their noble leader.

Nearby, Aldric surveyed the camp with a solemn expression. Their encounter with the wolves had brought fresh clarity to his mind. This journey, he realized, would only grow more perilous. Glancing toward Arvind's tent, he felt a mixture of respect and skepticism. Although loyal to the count who had entrusted him with protecting Arvind, he hadn't yet fully accepted Arvind as his lord. The young noble had yet to prove himself, though Aldric's sense of duty kept him grounded in his commitment. "It isn't his fault," he thought, allowing a small smile. For now, he reminded himself of his knightly oath, giving Arvind the benefit of the doubt.

The rest of the knights around the camp wore varied expressions—some shaken by fear, others filled with a fierce resolve to grow stronger. Among the less-experienced fighters, this battle had marked a rite of passage. No longer novices, they had tasted true combat and survived, feeling their identities shift from untested youth to blooded warriors.

Outside the circle of knights, the commoners watched Arvind with a glimmer of respect. They'd seen nobles before—many indifferent to the plight of commoners, treating them as expendable. But Arvind had been different. He had sent his own men to protect them, risking the lives of his knights for their safety. For the first time, they saw a noble willing to sacrifice for their sake. With newfound loyalty, they silently vowed, We stand behind you, my lord. A leader like you is truly rare.

Arvind sat alone, lost in thought. He remembered his life before—how he had dismissed the strenuous physical training imposed by his father, opting instead for books and intellectual pursuits. He'd always considered himself above the physical demands of knightly training, believing his knowledge from past lives would be enough to guide him. He'd seen this world's customs and rituals as backward, convinced his intellect alone would be his strength.

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Yet, yesterday's battle had shattered that illusion. He had felt the power his knights wielded, a strength derived from intense physical discipline and the cultivation of "Fighting Spirit." This strength wasn't just for show; it was essential to survival. Arvind understood now that his noble title meant more than status. It represented a responsibility, a duty to defend those under his care. A wave of frustration swept over him as he faced his own weakness, a mere Apprentice Knight in a world where nobility meant strength.

Arvind clenched his fists, feeling inadequate compared to the knights who served him. He could no longer ignore the gap in power. I have to become stronger, he thought, frustration and resolve mingling in his chest.

Just then, Anika entered with his breakfast. "You seem troubled, my lord," she observed, her voice gentle. "Is something weighing on your mind?"

Arvind hesitated, torn between pride and vulnerability. He didn't want to appear weak in front of her. "It's just… yesterday's battle," he murmured, keeping his gaze lowered.

Anika's face softened in understanding. "You don't need to worry, my lord. Aldric and the knights are skilled fighters. They'll protect us."

A sudden thought crossed his mind. "Please, call me Arvind," he insisted, his voice softer. "We're not strangers."

Anika hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. "I know, but…" she trailed off, unsure of how to respond.

Feeling her hesitation, Arvind attempted to break the silence with an honest question. "Anika… do you think I could ever become as strong as my father?"

Her expression softened, and she looked at him with genuine warmth. "Of course, my lord," she replied with quiet confidence. "With determination, you can achieve anything."

Doubt lingered in his mind, his past failures casting a long shadow over her encouraging words. Arvind's disbelief must have shown, for Anika continued, "Every knight starts somewhere, my lord. Even your father wasn't born strong—he trained, he grew. So will you."

Before he could respond, Shankar entered the tent, catching the end of their conversation. "Why not ask Aldric to teach you?" he suggested with a knowing smile. "He's experienced, and there's no better teacher than one who's walked the path you want to follow."

A glimmer of hope lit up in Arvind's eyes, though it was quickly overshadowed by hesitation. He recalled Aldric's stern demeanor, and the memory of a previous confrontation still lingered, painful and raw. Aldric had once openly expressed his doubts about Arvind's capabilities. The idea of approaching him now, to ask for guidance, seemed daunting.

Sensing his unease, Shankar spoke up again. "Every knight has mentors, my lord. Even your father once sought guidance. It's not weakness—it's how we grow stronger."

Arvind weighed Shankar's words, feeling a flicker of determination begin to grow. He thought of his father, a man who had earned his place as a Great Knight. The pendant hanging around his neck—a gift from his mother—seemed to grow warmer, as though urging him forward. Clutching it, he made a silent vow to honor her memory and make her proud.

He stood, his resolve solidified. Approaching Aldric, he spoke with quiet conviction. "I wish to learn from you, Sir Aldric," he declared, his voice steady. "I need to become stronger, to protect the people who depend on me."

Aldric's gaze was unreadable, but he inclined his head. "Then we begin at dawn," he replied simply, his tone respectful yet firm. And for the first time, Arvind felt a spark of confidence—a feeling that, perhaps, he was finally taking his first step toward strength.