The return to the Fifth Prince's residence was quiet, almost indifferent, as if the world itself had no interest in acknowledging his existence.
Nothing had changed.
The estate stood the same as before—distant, silent, and forgotten.
When Samuel stepped down from the carriage, his gaze moved across the courtyard briefly before settling ahead. There were no servants rushing to greet him, no signs of activity, no sense of presence.
It was a place that existed without purpose.
Edward followed behind him without speaking, already aware that something had shifted. The prince's silence was no longer passive—it carried direction.
Samuel walked forward without pause.
"Prepare the training grounds," he said calmly.
Edward hesitated for only a moment.
"…understood."
—
The training hall stood at the far end of the estate, separated from the main residence as if it had been intentionally forgotten.
When the doors were opened, a faint layer of dust stirred in the air.
The space inside was vast—
Untouched, as if no one had ever stepped there with intent.
Unused, as though its purpose had long been abandoned before it could ever be fulfilled.
The weapon racks remained lined against the walls, undisturbed. The wooden dummies stood in place, their surfaces clean not from maintenance, but from neglect.
It was not a place of training.
It was a place that had never truly begun.
Samuel stepped inside.
His footsteps echoed lightly against the stone floor, the sound carrying farther than it should have in such an empty space. He moved toward the center before stopping, his gaze lowering slightly as his thoughts settled into clarity.
This body…
His fingers flexed once, slow and controlled.
…is weak.
There was no hesitation in the conclusion.
No attempt to soften it.
It was fact.
The mana of this world rejects me.
The thought surfaced again, steady and unchanging. Even after everything he had read, everything he had confirmed—nothing about it felt uncertain.
Mana existed.
It flowed through all things.
And yet—
It did not exist for him.
Samuel exhaled faintly.
How will I live being so powerless?
The question was not born from fear.
It was calculation.
Because power was not optional.
It was necessary.
In his previous life, such a condition would have been inconceivable. Strength had never been something he questioned—it had been constant, absolute, unquestioned.
Now—
He stood at the lowest point.
Unrecognized.
Unrefined.
Looked down upon.
A brief silence settled within him.
I am not used to this.
His gaze hardened slightly—not with emotion, but with clarity.
Then I will change it.
—
He took a slow step forward.
"I must first train my physical body," he said quietly.
Edward stepped closer, his expression focused.
Samuel continued, his tone calm.
"I will experiment," he said, "and determine which techniques from my former world can function within this one."
Edward did not ask what those techniques were.
He only nodded.
"…then we begin."
—
Samuel moved.
A single step.
Unsteady.
Imperfect.
His balance shifted almost immediately, the weakness of his muscles revealing itself without resistance. The lack of training, the absence of foundation—it all surfaced in the most basic motion.
But he did not stop.
He adjusted.
Again.
Step.
Turn.
Shift.
Each movement carried intention.
Each mistake was corrected immediately.
There was no repetition without purpose.
—
The hall remained silent.
Only the faint sound of movement echoed through the space that had once been untouched.
—
"Your breathing is uneven," Edward said after a moment, stepping closer.
Samuel did not stop.
"Correct it."
Edward adjusted his stance slightly.
"Slow your movements. Do not force them. Let your body follow your breath."
Samuel listened.
And adapted.
Immediately.
His breathing steadied.
His movements improved—not significantly, but enough to matter.
—
Time passed.
The still air of the training hall began to shift, no longer stagnant, no longer empty.
Sweat formed.
Muscles strained.
Pain followed.
Unfamiliar.
Persistent.
—
Samuel continued.
Without pause.
Because this was not training.
This was reconstruction.
—
"If the foundation is broken…"
His foot pressed firmly against the ground.
"…then it will be rebuilt."
—
Edward no longer stood at a distance.
He moved beside him now, correcting posture, guiding movement, adjusting what needed to be fixed.
Not as a superior.
But as support.
—
And slowly—
The training hall that had once stood unused…
began to serve its purpose.
—
At its center stood a boy with no power.
No mana.
No recognition.
—
And yet—
Step by step—
He moved forward.