Égon was the second son of a baron, but they lived in a considerably large manor, one which could easily belong to a count as well. Baron Voliorn Fe-Réon, Égon's father, managed to climb high due to his outstanding prowess, and as a result, despite being only titled a baron, he was respected as if he were a count.

Baron Voliorn Fe-Réon's estate had a considerably large training ground, which was used by the soldiers and knights of the family, but it was currently used for the duel between father and son.

It was afternoon, and it had just finished raining recently, as there were smaller and larger pools of water all across the still-wet ground. As they took up their position, Égon took the liberty to look into one of the puddles to see his reflection.

Just as he had imagined, he looked exactly like he remembered. His dark brown hair just slightly covered his eyebrows. However, there was something different: his eye colour. It had turned slightly orangeish and was quite vibrant. With a sigh, Égon looked at his father, who stood on the other side of the training ground.

They both wore a padded set of armour so that injury would be prevented. In the large levelled area, only the two of them stood as everyone else in the manor had been ordered to stay clear of the training ground. Égon slightly moved his arms around and legs hten started slightly stretching his joints. His younger body was still new to him so he wanted to warm up properly.

His father held two wooden swords, which would soon be used for practice. He had a grin on his face, excited to see his son's potential and to teach him. As a result, to be able to give his best, he too started warming up.

"Alright, then, Come at me whenever you are ready!"

Voliorn declared with a serious tone. His gaze changed as he glared at Égon, and then he tossed one of the wooden swords towards his son.

Égon was still in the middle of the stretching and was still leaning forward. However, he looked up just in time to see the swords flying. With one swift motion, he dashed forward, grabbed the blade and dashed towards his father.

Slightly surprised but fired up by the unexpected event, Voliorn grinned and, as Égon was running, quickly analysed his stance and style. Égon held the practice sword in his right hand, which he held behind him. As he ran, he slightly leaned forward, but his gaze met with his father's.

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"Such an obvious and open attack, but at least his stance seems to be solid... Almost as if he had some basic training already!"

The Baron analysed himself as he prepared to counter the incoming attack. He believed Égon would fling his sword with all his might over his head and try to deliver a hit.

Voliron slightly brought his sword up to his chest and kept staring at Égon's eyes and stance. However, as soon as they got close, both surprised one another. Égon put his right hand overly out to the lift and performed a slight spin, completely avoiding a head-on thrust from his father. From the momentum he had gained, Égon wanted to deliver a hit to his father's side.

Although his speed and plan would have been perfect, he was not yet fully used to his body, and as a result, he slipped on the still-wet ground. His training world just barely grazed his father's armour before he hit the ground and slid forward.

"Fuck... this is so embarrassing..."

He mumbled, and he sighed loudly. Then he quickly stood up, almost headbutting his father's hand who patted him with a smile.

"That was a fine attack, though it seems you still need to learn how to balance! Come on, let's try it again!"

Voliron said with an even brighter smile and stepped away. Hearing the comment, Égon chuckled himself and with a determined gaze, he got ready to continue. He felt great; even after such a dramatic failure, he was once again motivated and happy.

Once his father had stopped walking and turned around, Égon started running. This time, he decided to make a head-on attempt instead of trying to attack from the side. As he ran, he kept his blade ahead of him with a slightly bent angle, and as soon as he got to his father, the two clashed.

It was evident that in the previous attempt, Voliron went easy on his son as now he effortlessly blocked each and every attack that Égon threw at him. No matter how fast, how strong or at what angle Égon tried, it was all futile. He was being read like an open book. However, that was alright; he knew his limitations and was just how much work it would take to move forward.

"Not bad momentum, and your aim is sharp; even the swordsmanship is not bad, almost as if you have already practised using a sword. Let's see how you react to this!"

As he said that, the Baron increased his speed, and instead of blocking, he was on the offensive. Égon just kept on blcking and stepping back. The slashes came in faster and faster and some even almost grazed him, until one mistake.

He saw an opening that he presumed was intentional from his father's side and wanted to use it. However, he was still too clumsy, and once again, he slipped. At that moment, his father tried to move to catch him. Égon noticed it, and just as his back hit the ground with a swift motion, he hit his father's leg, forcing him to fall.

"You have levelled up!"

"1 point can be allocated."

Two new panels popped up before Égon's eyes while he was still on the ground, but soon after that, the panel vanished. Égon's grin grew wide. He had just experienced first-hand the meaning of having a greater talent. It meant that he could level up faster as well. He knew that it would be increasingly more difficult to level up, but even this first one filled him with happiness.

"Oh, you sly little rascal!"

Voliron laughed as he sat up moments before Égon did.

"Does that mean I won?"