Inside the quiet training yard of Tasco's Barrack, the fat man's body moved forward with surprising decisiveness. His arm swung in a clean arc with the sword that was cutting through the air toward the old knight who was standing before him.
The slash was not elegant.
It lacked the refinement and the discipline but it carried one thing that even seasoned warriors recognized immediately.
The attack was full of determination. From within the hidden space of the old book, Baston narrowed his eyes.
The curiosity pushed him to go further.
The puppet who was disguised as the fat man did not stop after the swing. Instead, it stepped forward again, pushing the attack with every bit of strength its body could muster. He wanted to see the gap between such raw effort and the true skill.
In the meantime, Tasco watched calmly.
At first, he had been prepared to treat this lesson casually. He was just like a beginner who was paying for the training and nothing unusual with it.
However, the moment the sword approached him, the old knight's expression changed slightly. The spirit behind the attack was genuine.
In the end, Tasco could only response by moving his body. The old knight raised his sword and deflected the strike with effortless precision. The difference between them became obvious in that instant.
The puppet's strength was clumsy and forced. Tasco's movement, however, was smooth and practiced. Several years of battle had sharpened his instincts far beyond the ordinary fighters.
The two swords quickly collided.
"CLANG!"
The sound echoed through the empty yard. For a brief moment, the attack seemed to hold. But then, something else followed.
"CRACK!!!"
The sharp snapping noise was far louder than the clash of steel. Both Baston and Tasco frowned at the same time.
Before he could analyze what had happened, Tasco had already found the problem. The old knight lowered his sword and pointed directly at the fat man's arm.
"Your wrist is broken…"
The puppet's arm hung at an unnatural angle. Surely, the bone had snapped.
The backlash from the deflected strike had traveled through the blade and into the arm that was holding it. Because the puppet forced the attack beyond what its body could support, the fragile structure simply gave way. Several fractures were likely hiding beneath the skin as well.
Inside the old book, Baston blinked slowly, "The puppet broke faster than I expected…"
Ordinary people would have dropped the sword immediately. The pain alone would force them to but the puppet did not release the weapon. It simply stood there, still gripping the sword as if nothing had happened.
From the outside, the scene looked disturbing.
The arm trembled violently while hanging crookedly beside the body yet the fat man showed no reaction at all.
Inside the old book, he sighed with relief. Luckily, it was not his real arm. If the injury had occurred to his true body, he would likely be screaming right now.
However, Tasco looked alarmed, "Are you alright?"
The old knight stepped closer and examined the injury with experienced eyes.
"That arm is badly damaged. We should treat it immediately."
Even though he could have ignored the situation, his conscience would not allow it. After all, the fat man was a paying customer.
More importantly, the man had shown such impressive determination during their brief clash. Despite the trembling arms and obvious strain, he had never complained or cried out.
Even when the bone snapped, the man struggled hardly. That level of resolve was rare.
He had met many aspiring knights before. Most of them abandoned the training at the moment when a pain appeared. But for this fat man, he simply endured.
The old knight couldn't help but feel a trace of admiration.
"It's alright…" the fat man replied calmly, "This is just a scratch."
Tasco stared at him since the injury was clearly not a scratch.
Before the old knight could argue further, the fat man suddenly raised his broken arm. Eventually, he grabbed his own wrist and twisted it without hesitation.
"CRACK!"
The bone shifted back into the place. The fat man pushed and pulled the arm with brutal force, forcing the dislocated fragments to realign.
The sound alone made Tasco's face stiffen.
It looked incredibly painful yet the fat man didn't even groan. Within few seconds, the arm returned to a roughly normal position.
Tasco did not speak immediately.
Instead, the old knight stared at the fat man's arm as if he was expecting the bone to snap again at any moment. His experienced eyes scanned the wrist carefully. The skin was already swelling slightly and the fingers trembled faintly from the earlier impact.
Yet, the fat man simply lowered his arm and flexed his fingers once and twice as if he was testing whether the sword could still be held.
That reaction alone was enough to make Tasco uneasy.
In all his years of training young knights and reckless adventurers, he had seen many kinds of people. Some were talented but timid while the others were brave but foolish. However, few possessed both of courage and skill.
He had clearly heard the snapped bone and the sound had been unmistakable. Even hardened soldiers would at least grimace from such pain. Yet, the fat man's face remained completely calm.
It was not the forced calm and not the kind of stubborn expression that someone wore while enduring the pain.
It was simply a calm, too calm that he wondered it was just his own imagination. For a brief moment, he even wondered whether the man could feel pain at all.
The old knight's eyes narrowed slightly.
What kind of person that fixed a broken bone like that without even breathing heavily?
Even the veteran knights would hesitate before doing something so brutal.
After all, the pain was a natural instinct. The body resisted such treatment, but this man, he had corrected the bone with such decisiveness. There was no hesitation and no preparation. It was just a simple twist.
The more he thought about it, the more unsettling it became. Still, the old knight quickly pushed those thoughts aside. The world was vast and strange people existed everywhere.
He had once seen a mercenary that continued fighting with a spear that stuck through his shoulder. Compared to that madness, perhaps this was not so unusual. And yet, he glanced again at the fat man.
The way he held the sword and the way he had forced the earlier strike.
The movements were determined but the fat man was oddly stiff like someone who was imitating the behavior of a warrior rather than living it.
For a moment, a faint suspicion crossed his mind but it vanished just as quickly. He chuckled and shook his head since he must be overthinking.
At the end of the day, the man was just a paying customer who was trying to learn the swordsmanship.
Even though so, he could not deny one thing.
Whether it was the madness or the courage, the fat man possessed a spirit that most beginners lacked. That alone was enough to make him interested in teaching the man.
He stared at the fat man as if he was seeing a monster, "You are truly a crazy man… If that happened to me, I would be groaning for half the day."
The old knight laughed in disbelief before shaking his head. His first impression of the fat man had been simple, a foolish amateur looking for a trouble. But now, that judgment changed.
The man possessed an unusual level of resolve. Perhaps, even the madness.
"You're an interesting man…"
At then, he continued, "By the way, I never asked your name. It feels strange teaching someone without knowing what to call him."
The fat man hesitated slightly, "My name is Bas…"
He stopped himself before continued, "Sebastian… That is my name."
Inside the old book, Baston smiled faintly. He had almost revealed his real name out of habit.
Tasco nodded, "Very well, Sebastian..."
The old knight glanced at the arm again, "Do you want to continue training or would you rather rest first?"
"I won't underestimate you," he added, "But if you push too hard with that injury, you might lose your arm entirely."
Baston considered the suggestion. In truth, the puppet could continue fighting.
The pain meant nothing to it but if he pushed too far, Tasco might become suspicious. In the end, the fat man nodded.
"Alright..."
He walked toward the wall and sat down. The puppet closed its eyes but Baston's mind did not rest.
Instead, his awareness shifted. The connection moved from one puppet to another.
*****
At another place, Luke's servant puppet stood quietly. The two had arrived at a peaceful pavilion that was surrounded by a carefully maintained garden.
Baston observed through the puppet's eyes with his silent curiosity. He did not know why Luke had come here. However, as Luke's temporary servant, he followed the order without question.
The garden was elegant but it was not overly luxurious. The flower beds lined the stone paths and a small pond reflected the pale sky above.
At the center, a wooden gazebo stood peacefully. Inside, a middle-aged woman sat silently. She drank the tea calmly while watching the approaching pair. Her movements were refined and every gesture carried the quiet authority.
Baston narrowed his eyes since this woman was not ordinary. Luke stopped at several steps away and the young noble bowed slightly.
"Little boy…" the woman said with a faint smile, "It's a surprise to see you here."
She placed her teacup down gently, "It seems you have encountered some trouble. Would you mind telling me what you need?"
Luke lowered his head respectfully, "I apologize for disturbing your leisure time, Madam Talina. Indeed… I have a request."
The woman named Talina studied him carefully, "I will hear you out."
Her eyes shifted slightly toward his servant, "But since this conversation concerns only us, let your servant wait outside."
Before Luke could issue the order, the puppet had already moved. The fake Baston bowed respectfully and stepped back.
Although curiosity burned inside him but the caution was stronger. This meeting was dangerous enough and he would not risk exposing himself unnecessarily. The puppet stopped near the garden entrance and stood quietly.
From a distance, he could still see the gazebo but the voices were too faint to hear.
*****
Time passed slowly.
The servants and workers occasionally walked along the stone paths while the guards patrolled the garden calmly. Everything seemed peaceful until someone approached.
A girl stopped beside him. She looked roughly the same age as Baston.
Her face was attractive though she was far less striking than Alicia. Still, the calm confidence in her eyes made her presence noticeable. He remained silent but the girl spoke first.
"Serving a noble can be convenient," she said softly, "But when that noble falls, you will fall with him."
The puppet turned slightly toward her and the girl continued, "If you want to survive, you should follow a more reliable master."
Baston frowned slightly, "Is she talking to me?"
The girl watched him carefully, "Your name is Baston, correct?"
Inside the old book, his eyes sharpened instantly. She knew his name eventually.
"That noble you serve is currently speaking with my master..." she gestured toward the gazebo, "You should know something. Although my master is technically a merchant, even the nobles treat her with respect."
"Her wealth and influence reach far across the kingdom. She could become a noble if she wished but she prefers the freedom of remaining a merchant."
The girl stepped slightly closer, "And you…"
Her gaze sharpened, "An ice wizard with real talent..."
Baston's heart sank slightly. Eventually, she knew that too. He had rarely revealed his magic publicly yet somehow, the information had still spread.
The girl continued calmly, "If you continue following Luke Anderson, your future will be limited. But if you serve Madam Talina, your opportunities will be far greater. There will be money, freedom, and influence…"
The girl's voice carried quiet persuasion, "You could become anything you want."
Baston stared at her silently before a thought crossed his mind, "Am I being poached?"
The situation was absurd since he was currently preparing to assassinate a noble yet someone was trying to recruit him.
However, one detail disturbed him deeply.
This girl knew too much from his name and his magic. If she knew, then Luke's uncle might know as well. He silently memorized that possibility because more precautions would be necessary later.
"So…" the girl said, "What do you say?"
The puppet shook its head, "Sorry, I'm not interested."
The girl looked genuinely surprised, "Why not? I don't understand your decision. My master is offering you a great opportunity. Once Luke falls, you will regret refusing this chance. Such ignorance is truly a sin..."
Baston smiled faintly, "Yes, I agree… Ignorance is a sin..."
He looked at the girl thoughtfully, "But I'm just a poor boy and my world is simple. If I survive today and earn today's payment, that is already enough. Tomorrow's problems belong to tomorrow."
The girl frowned, "That way of thinking is wrong. With no ambition, you will remain a servant forever. With your talent, that would be a waste."
Baston tilted his head slightly, "Then, tell me something… If I follow Madam Talina, what status can she give me?"
The girl opened her mouth before she stopped. The answer refused to come because the truth was obvious.
At best, he could become a commoner and nothing more after that. After all, the merchants rarely allowed their servants to rise high enough to become their rivals and the nobles rarely allowed the commoners to rise too freely.
Baston simply smiled and the girl had no response because both of them already understood the truth.
No matter which master he served, his status would never truly change.