Elysian’s expression froze to the point that both Bran and Osric’s celebration was cut short as they focused their eyes on the noble.
“Young master, are you alright?”
‘Damn, these kids are monsters. I now see why my master acted that way. Tsk, though I’m happy, I can’t stop myself from being jealous of them. Well, it seems some people are just blessed, gifted in some areas.
Hmm… Now that I think of it, what about my brother? He is widely known to be a genius, and that recognition is not only in Ironspire but in the whole kingdom itself. Maybe even beyond it.
Sh*t! Even though I have regressed, it seems I need to work harder just to be able to catch up to them.’
“Huh? Yeah, yeah, I’m okay,” Elysian responded, laughing awkwardly. “Wow. Congratulations to you two. I’m so proud of you both,” he continued, sounding so fake that it made the atmosphere feel awkward. “Now, all of us are cultivators.”
“Thanks, master,” Osric genuinely said. Though he sensed the strange reaction of the younger boy, it didn’t dampen his mood one bit as his grin never wavered after finally succeeding in taking his first step into cultivation. “I wouldn’t have done it without your help. I really owe you for this.”
The sincere gratitude shown by the soldier momentarily eased the complicated feeling Elysian felt at that time as his forced smile was replaced by something more genuine and real. “You don’t have to thank me. As your master, this is just something that I must do,” he responded, nodding at him. “Also, by doing this, I’m also helping myself, so this is just a win-win for both of us.”
“Young master, thank you so much,” Bran said as he suddenly ran towards the noble, trying to give him a big hug.
“Hey, stop that, you big oaf,” Elysian scowled, evading the unexpected embrace of his servant. “You can’t do that.”
“Why not?!” Bran asked, disappointed by the younger boy’s refusal of his physical manifestation of gratitude.
“You’re fucking naked, you b*stard!” Elysian exclaimed, never stopping in moving backward until he reached the door. “Even if we’re close, I sure as hell won’t hug any naked boy. That won’t happen. Never. Also, you f*cking stinks! I don’t want your disgusting smell getting on my clothes.”
Bran and Osric looked at each other before focusing on the smell. Immediately, their faces grimaced in disgust as both of them cursed at the foul smell.
“Okay, clean yourselves first before we talk again,” Elysian muttered, wanting to get out of there as fast as possible.
“Wait, young master!”
Elysian sighed, glancing back at the servant. “What?”
“I’m just curious,” Bran muttered, hesitating for a moment before he continued, “Is that it?”
“Is that, what?” Elysian asked, confused by the question. At that moment, he just wanted to get away from all the smell. “Can you hurry up?”
“What I mean is, are we done? Are we really cultivators?” Bran asked. Though he already knew about it, accepting this new reality was something he needed to get used to. “You said before that it would take us about a week to be cultivators. It’s just been a day… No, a couple of hours… Have we really succeeded? I expected it to be hard; why was it so easy?”
Each word that the older boy uttered was like a sharp knife stabbing Elysian’s heart over and over again until his already strained smile completely collapsed, turning into a frown.
‘Easy? Really, easy? Does he know how hard I tried to be a cultivator in the past, to the point that I was nearly crying blood? And now he’s bragging that it was easy? This f*cking b*stard! Is he doing it on purpose to hammer home the point that I suck? Does this idiot want to f*cking die? If he really wants it, I’ll be glad to give him a hand.
Easy, really, it’s easy?!’
At a certain point, Elysian stopped listening as Bran continued to enthusiastically talk nonstop, to the point that he became so giddy that his voice was singing with delight. Being all that, he was totally oblivious to the darkening mood radiating from the younger boy.
Obviously, this didn’t sit well with Elysian. Gritting his teeth, he remained quiet as his patience ran out.
Osric noticed this as he swallowed hard, elbowing the older boy on the side to make him stop. “Stop it!” he muttered softly when the servant wouldn’t shut up.
“Huh?” Bran paused for a moment when he finally felt the elbow hitting him. Looking at Osric before glancing at the noble, he noticed their irritated expressions. “I’m sorry, young master, for talking so long. I’m just too happy that I’m a cultivator now. I never imagined I’d become one—and that it’s too easy.”
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Raising his brow, Elysian finally had enough. “You’re really a cultivator now, b*stard. This isn’t a dream, but your new reality. Why don’t we talk about this later? Get rid of that rotten smell of yours first, okay?” he muttered, grinning viciously. “Wash yourself—and enjoy.”
“Thank you, young master,” Bran responded, grinning.
After spending some time with the young noble, Osric now had an idea of his master’s personality. Seeing that spiteful stare of his, he knew full well that trouble would follow. Unable to do anything, he sighed and shook his head as he watched the unsuspecting face of Bran.
Elysian nodded and cast the Nightmare Weave on the servant before slamming the door of the bathroom shut and locking it from the outside. What followed next was a scream of fear that racked the very foundation of the building.
“Well, it seems Nightmare Weave works. That’s good to know,” Elysian muttered as he started whistling nonchalantly as if nothing had happened.
----------------------------------------
Elysian spent all of his time testing BloodShade again. Well, not its abilities but the weapon itself. His mind was still fixated on not being able to recall the weapon through the air. At first, he was content with doing what he did before—putting the weapon on the ground and recalling it. When he got similar results again and again, he began to doubt that it could be done.
“Is this even possible? Hmm… how do I test this out?” Elysian softly muttered to himself, when his eyes widened in realization. “I’m such an idiot! Why didn’t I think of that sooner?” he told himself, sighing in exasperation. “Why did I keep putting the knife on the ground when I could just throw it?”
Just like that, Elysian moved in front of the dummy and threw BloodShade. The first few times, he failed repeatedly, as the knife hit the target before he could even recall it. This didn’t deter him, however. He tried again and again, trying new things. First, he threw the weapon with as little force as possible. When that didn’t work, he stepped back farther and farther, just using enough power to be able to hit the target.
This mindless repetition took up most of his time as his focus and determination combined into one. This might’ve sounded boring or tedious, but in the noble’s case, it was therapeutic. He welcomed it. Then, out of this endless repetition, he finally did it. He successfully retrieved BloodShade from the air.
“Did I just?” Elysian muttered, his eyes widening in disbelief. He couldn’t believe what just happened.
At first, Elysian thought that he had made a mistake, since his mind was somewhere else. So, he immediately tried it again. When he failed, he was disappointed, so he threw BloodShade in frustration. As it flew in the air, Elysian pulled at it, trying to recall the damnable knife, which unexpectedly obeyed his will as it turned into a shadow flying back into his hand.
“Sh*t, I really did it!” Elysian shouted in celebration, jumping around the hall before letting himself fall to the floor, breathing heavily from exhaustion. Having totally lost himself in the mindless repeated hurling of the weapon, it just occurred to him how tiring it was. With what he got out of it, it was worth it.
As Elysian rested on the floor, he suddenly heard some banging somewhere. He initially dismissed it, thinking it might be coming from outside. When it became so annoying, he sat up and tried to find where the sound was coming from.
‘F*ck, I forgot! Bran and Osric are still in the bathroom.’
Elysian hurriedly got up and opened the door. The first thing he saw was Bran’s teary eyes as he hurriedly got out of the bathroom.
“Why did you lock the door, young master?!” Bran exclaimed, clearly pissed at what happened.
Elysian did not respond as he watched Osric stand up. When the boy saw the young noble, he nodded in respect before glancing at the servant and shaking his head before nonchalantly wiping the water off his body.
‘Well, I sympathize with the hell he went through being bombarded by the screams and complaints from Bran while trying to calm the older boy. I suspect it wasn’t easy… and quite grating.
And funny.’
“Young master, are you listening?” Bran asked, annoyed at being ignored. “Young master!”
Looking away from the soldier, Elysian chuckled softly, shrugging before turning his attention to the servant. “What did you say, big fella?”
“You aren’t listening!” Bran said, frowning at the noble, sullen at being ignored.
“I’m sorry, big fella. My mind was elsewhere just now. I’m trying to think about where we will be eating our lunch,” Elysian said, trying to placate the boy. This immediately made the older boy stop his displeased expression, which changed into a smile as he imagined the food they would eat, totally forgetting his complaints and what he wanted to say.
Elysian just smiled, shaking his head as he walked past the servant and said, “Dress quickly, both of you. We have plenty of things to celebrate today.”
“Yes,” Bran responded, grinning before he remembered something. “Wait, young master, I have something important to tell you.”
Instead of turning back, Elysian hurriedly walked, trying to get away as fast as possible.
Undeterred, Bran shouted, “Young master, I saw a ghost earlier. This place is haunted!”
“Stop it, big fella. Don’t shout. My head is still ringing from all your screaming earlier.”
“But… But the ghost. You saw it too, Ossy. There are really ghosts here.”
“There wasn’t any ghost, big fella,” Osrcis stated, sighing in exasperation. “I believe that it's the master’s doing. I don’t know how he did it, but I’ve no doubt he did it to scare you.”
“What?!”
Elysian exited the training hall as loud curses could be heard from outside.
“What’s happening there?” Sybil asked, frowning as he walked towards the younger boy.
“Huh, Sybil?” Elysian muttered in surprise before his lips curled upward. “If it isn’t our hopelessly romantic soldier.”
“Shut up!” Sybil retorted without bite or hate in his tone. “If you think you can poke me with it, you’re wrong. I’ve already washed it all out of my system.”
“With all that alcohol, I believe you, Lyra. Ah, sorry. I misspoke. It’s just that the sound of Sybil and Lyra is so close…” Elysian said, grinning when he saw the scowl on the boy’s face worsen. “Jeez, fine. Relax, okay? I got it. I’ll shut up now.”
“What’s happening inside?” Sybil curiously asked, when he heard a new round of curses being thrown. “Who’s that? Is he cursing you?”
“Huh? Ah, it’s nothing. It’s just some arrogant brat, who’s not considerate enough to shut up.”