Ran stood in the empty courtyard, staring into the open air with a profound, unspoken feeling radiating from his very soul: I am fucked.
He blinked, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"Well... it's not like they're going to drag me to the guillotine immediately, right?" he muttered to himself, trying to inject some fake optimism into his brain.
"I didn't hit her. I just gave her a very thorough verbal reality check. That's a teaching method. Totally standard."
He looked at the sky, his inner monologue immediately cutting through the bullshit. Who the fuck am I kidding?
She's a high-noble daughter of an ally, and I'm just a bastard. If word came out I disrespected the daughter of Auditore then Simon will probably use my head as a soccer ball before deporting me back..... and I don't think Somes would like that.
Meanwhile, in a neglected, overgrown corner of the backyard where people rarely ventured, Layla was curled into a miserable little ball against a stone bench.
The cold, brutal words Ran had spit at her were looping in her head like a bad song.
She was sobbing uncontrollably, her perfect porcelain cheeks stained with tears, processing the terrifying realization that he was entirely right. She was a failure in her family's eyes.
Ran, however, didn't have time to wallow in guilt. He needed to maximize his utility before he got booted out.
Because he was officially contracted as Layla's instructor, he had been granted an all-access pass to the grand Auditore library; a luxury meant to let him study proper training stances and refine his skills.
Since Simon had already signed off on it, the librarian didn't look like he wanted to interfere.
As Ran walked into the massive sea of books. the librarian deeply bowed his head.
He looked pretty old most probably in his late fifties or early sixties.
"Young Master Bloodrune. I hope you will do your absolute best to guide Lady Layla."
Ran gave a smooth, practiced nod. "I intend to."
But the second the old man turned his back, Ran's eyes began scanning the high shelves for one specific thing: magic.
If he was on borrowed time before getting kicked back to his murderous father, he was going to steal some knowledge first.
Hours passed. Ran checked section after section, pulling down heavy volumes, flipping through them, and shoving them back with an increasingly irritated scowl.
Nothing. Not a single goddamn book related to magic.
I mean, what did I expect? Ran thought, suppressing a curse. The Auditore house completely devotes itself to swordsmanship. But seriously? Not even a basic theory book?
Back at the Bloodrune estate, he hadn't been allowed anywhere near the family library because of his status, but he'd at least heard rumors that they kept magic books on library.
He had hoped there'd be a slim chance here. No such luck.
"Can I assist you with something, Young Master?" the librarian's voice suddenly interrupted, making Ran stiffen slightly.
Ran turned around, subtly observing the old man.
The guy had no visible scars, no heavy, oppressive aura, and his eyes seemed entirely genuine. No hidden malice. Just an old clerk doing his job.
After hesitating for a fraction of a second, Ran decided to pivot.
"I'm looking for advanced texts on Aura Swordsmanship. My own aura technique is still incredibly faint and, frankly, pathetic. I need to improve it."
The librarian blinked, looking visibly confused.
"There are plenty of books regarding aura right in the central aisle, young master. If I may ask... why have you been searching every corner shelves for hours when the basic aura texts are practically everywhere?"
Ran didn't miss a beat. His face remained a perfect mask of innocent curiosity.
"An Aura Sword requires exceptional, flawless mana control. In my experience, mastering that level of precise circulation isn't fully possible without a foundational grasp on the mechanics of magic itself. I wanted to see if a different perspective could help me."
Ran let out a soft, self-deprecating chuckle.
"Besides, as a bastard, I don't exactly get the luxury to freely move around high-class libraries very often. I wanted to see what a great house has to offer."
The librarian went dead silent. He stared at Ran for a long, heavy moment, the air in the room shifting slightly. Finally, he leaned in and lowered his voice to a harsh whisper.
"If I share this knowledge with you, and you teach a single syllable of it to Lady Layla, you will be executed immediately. Her father will not tolerate her path being distorted."
"It's for my personal use only. I value my neck," Ran replied instantly.
The old man sighed, a look of pity flashing across his wrinkled face. He stepped back and raised a single hand.
Whoosh.
A sudden gust of wind swept through the library as a book came flying out from shelf high above the rafters, caught in a flawless display of telekinesis.
It drifted through the air and landed perfectly in the librarian's hand.
The title read: Introductory Magic.
The librarian handed it over with a polite bow.
"Please study it exclusively within these walls, Young Master."
Without another word, he nonchalantly returned to his desk, picking up his quill as if nothing had happened.
Ran stared down at the book. His eyes narrowed.
Hold on a fucking second. He had searched that exact high shelf earlier. He was absolutely certain it had been empty. The book had been concealed by a masking spell.
Did this old man expect me to look for it? Ran thought, a sudden realization hitting him. Is he doing this out of pity for Layla? He wants me to learn it so I can secretly teach her, bypassing Simon's strict orders.
Ran let out a silent, cynical scoff. Too bad that's not going to happen. It wasn't just because he had made the girl cry; it was because he had actively offended a potential heir of a noble family.
Simon Auditore was a man driven by sheer pride. Even if he knew his daughter was a failure, he wouldn't let a Bloodrune low born get away with such insolence.
Ran was fully expecting a pink slip by the end of the week.
"Whatever. Might as well grind while I can," Ran muttered. He sat down at a secluded desk and cracked the book open, completely immersing himself in the text.
Before he knew it, the darkness outside the windows began to soften. The deep blue of the night melted away, replaced by the sharp, golden rays of a rising sun bleeding through the glass.
"Oh. Morning already?" Ran muttered, blinking his bloodshot eyes. He closed the book with a soft thud.
Despite the lack of sleep, a spark of satisfaction lit up his chest. He had memorized the entire thing.
The theory was basic, but the real challenge was execution.
Thankfully, because he had spent hundreds of hours playing the game in his past life, he already knew the incantations and names of practically every spell in existence.
He just needed to kickstart his body's actual mechanics.
* * * * * * * *
Unsurprisingly, Layla didn't show up for their morning training session.
Ran stood alone in the center of the courtyard, balancing his wooden sword on his palm, waiting. One hour passed. Then two..... three and so on.
"Did I really hit a core nerve with that kid?" Ran mused, tossing the wooden sword onto the rack. He sighed heavily. "Well, if I'm getting fired anyway, let's test out the new merchandise."
He cleared his throat, standing in the center of the ring. He closed his eyes, drawing in a deep, slow breath.
Because the instructors back at the Bloodrune house had already taught the basics of mana circulation into his core, finding his energy wasn't the problem.
He could feel the latent mana humming beneath his skin like an electric current.
He began visualizing the spell, just like the book described. He pictured a violent, raging, blood-red flame, fully compressed and roaring with kinetic energy.
A basic Fireball, the kind of standard, run-of-the-mill spell that even low-tier NPCs from this game could chuck around by the dozen.
He locked the visualization in place, channeled the mana to his palm, and snapped his eyes open.
"Fireball!" he commanded, thrusting his hand forward.
Puff.
Ran stared at his palm. Sitting quietly above his skin was a tiny, flickering sphere of orange light. It was roughly the size of a ping-pong ball.
It didn't roar. It didn't smoke. It just bobbed up and down like a pathetic, harmless little nightlight. It looked like it wouldn't even burn a piece of loose paper if he threw it.
Ran's face went completely blank.
A profound, agonizing wave of sheer embarrassment washed over him.
He quickly clapped his hands together, snuffed out the pathetic little spark, and looked around the courtyard frantically to make sure no one was watching.
"Oh, damn," he muttered, covering his face with his hands. "Okay. No one saw that. That didn't happen. We are never speaking of this again."
Clearly, converting physical sword-aura mana into pure elemental magic properties was going to take some actual, grueling practice.
A few days quickly bled into a week. The little "princess" still hadn't shown her face at the training grounds.
According to the servants who brought Ran his meals, Layla had completely locked herself in her room, refusing to come out for anyone.
During this time, Simon Auditore was visibly getting more and more irritated. Every time he passed Ran in the corridors, he would glare at him with a heavy, veins-popping scowl that practically screamed, Fix this goddamn mess before I throw you out.
Ran, however, was actually kind of relieved. The fact that Simon hadn't instantly packed him into a carriage meant the man's pride was wrestling with his desperation.
Ran still had a tiny, microscopic window of opportunity.
That evening, Ran stood outside Layla's bedroom door. The hallway was dead quiet. He raised his fist and knocked twice.
Knock. Knock.
Silence. Not a single sound came from the other side.
Ran let out a rough grunt, breaking the suffocating quiet. He raised his voice just enough to cut through the heavy wood of the door.
"Lady Layla. I know you're in there, and I know you can hear me."
He paused, crossing his arms.
"You are bigger and brighter than me in every single way. Your social standing is higher, and you're older than me. But I would be exceptionally grateful if you gave me just one more chance."
He leaned closer to the door.
"If I am unable to convince you to train with me tomorrow morning, I will permanently take responsibility and voluntarily leave this estate.
You'll never have to look at my face again. The ball is in your court."
Without waiting for an answer, Ran turned on his boots and walked away.
Inside the room, the state of affairs was a total disaster.
Layla was completely buried under a mountain of heavy silk sheets. The once-pristine, elegant bedroom was now a wasteland of used tissues, discarded trays of half-eaten food, and general filth.
She lay in the dark, her eyes red and swollen, staring at the door with a mixture of lingering anger and overwhelming confusion.
The next morning, the sun rose bright and sharp over the training grounds.
Ran stood in the center of the ring, his hands resting on the hilt of a wooden sword stuck in the dirt.
The morning mist was still clearing. The designated start time had already passed by ten minutes.
Five more minutes. If she doesn't show up, I'm ordering a carriage back to the Bloodrune. All I can hope is Somes won't kill me.
Just as he was about to completely lose hope and pull his sword, a figure slowly emerged from the shadows of the stone archway.
The white-haired, doll-like girl walked into the light. Her porcelain skin looked pale from a week of starvation and crying, and her uniform was slightly wrinkled, but her eyes were still harboring a deep, defensive glare.
Ran let out a long, silent breath, a wave of profound relief washing over his chest. He swallowed his sarcastic comments and genuinely praised her in his mind.