Sir Gared stood beside the head of the exhausted Arian, who lay on the ground from the sheer intensity of his running. With a smiling expression, Sir Gared said:
"Good boy, I haven't seen such determination in a long time... but you know that you won't defeat Rolf just by running."
Arian stood up with difficulty, his face dripping with sweat, leaning on his giant sword. "Yes, I know."
With only those two words, Arian turned around, ignoring the Captain of the Knights, and began walking toward the castle.
Sir Gared burst into laughter and called out to Arian in a booming voice: "Boy! If you survive, I invite you to join the knights!"
Arian turned his head slightly without stopping, continuing on his way as a silent sign of agreement.
Arian continued with tired steps into the palace. As he walked through the corridors, he encountered the maid who had previously poisoned him, named Martha. The moment she saw him, she flustered and bowed her head in feigned respect: "M-My Lord."
"Bring me food for three people to my room, immediately."
Martha asked in surprise: "Do you have guests, my Lord?"
He replied coldly: "That is none of your concern. Just bring the food, and make sure there are no additional ingredients this time."
With a panicked expression, she bowed quickly: "Yes, my Lord!" and ran toward the castle's kitchen, leaving the rest of the servants bewildered by this interaction.
Half an hour later, Martha brought the food. Arian was sitting on the floor of the room. The moment she set down the tray, he began devouring the meat and bread with savage gluttony, as if he hadn't eaten in decades. As soon as he finished his meal, he lay on the floor and fell into a deep sleep, the signs of exhaustion evident on his face.
Martha watched him silently as she gathered the dishes. She noticed he was fast asleep, and felt this was the golden opportunity to kill him and bury the secret of the poison with him forever. She approached him slowly, holding a meat carving knife, her hand trembling.
But at the last moment, she stopped, swallowed her fear, and turned around to finish gathering the plates and leave. At the threshold of the door, just as she was about to exit, she heard Arian's calm voice tear through the room's silence: "You made the right choice."
He rolled onto his side and continued sleeping as if nothing had happened. Terror seized Martha; she stepped out and closed the door behind her very slowly, trembling all over.
The following day, in the training ground, the knights were going about their usual drills until they saw Arian returning once more.
"He's back... is he going to start running again?"
Arian strapped his massive sword to his back with a leather belt and began running around the courtyard, while Rolf's eyes glared at him from afar with anger and contempt.
Arian kept running for several hours until his body reached its limits. This repeated for six consecutive days without pause. The knights grew accustomed to his presence, assuming he had completely lost his mind.
Until the seventh day arrived... the day of the duel with Rolf. Everyone was waiting to see how this confrontation would end. The knights bet that Arian would die after a single strike, some bet on two strikes, while others scoffed, insisting he would run away and not show up at all. The outcome was a foregone conclusion to them.
The knights gathered in the middle of the castle courtyard, and Rolf stood in the center with an arrogant expression. A full hour passed beyond the scheduled time for the duel, and Arian had not arrived. The knights who bet on his flight began cheering happily, while Rolf seethed with rage: "That bastard! How dare he make me wait like this?! I'll go to his room right now and bring his head!"
But suddenly, one of the knights spotted someone emerging from the castle gates. He wore black leather attire, his hair hanging over his eyes, with a small scar on his nose, and a terrifying, massive sword strapped to his back. It was Arian Oswald.
Disappointment washed over the faces of those who bet he wouldn't show. Arian walked through the ranks of knights with an expression as cold as the ice of the North, completely ignoring their mockery, until he stood before Rolf.
Rolf shouted angrily: "It seems you've come to your grave, you son of a maid! Beg me right now and kneel before me, and I will give you a merciful death."
Arian replied in a provoking tone: "Stop babbling like a little girl, and draw your sword at once."
The words infuriated Rolf to the point that veins of anger bulged on his forehead. Before he could lunge at him, Sir Gared stepped forward with his large shield and massive build to separate them. He raised his hand, and the whispers of the knights instantly ceased. He spoke in a rough, stern voice: "I announce the start of the knight's duel between Arian Oswald and Sir Rolf! The rules are clear: fight with honor to the very end."
Rolf shot Arian a bloodthirsty glare, waiting for the signal to begin, while Arian stood in complete composure, resting his giant sword in front of him.
Sir Gared lowered his hand, declaring the start of the duel.
At that very moment, a turbulent aura erupted from Rolf's body, and he charged at Arian with a crushing vertical strike. With a fluid motion, Arian deflected the path of the blow using the back of his sword. Rolf launched another horizontal slash, but Arian evaded it nimbly, while the shouts of the knights grew louder: "Fight like a man and don't run! Finish him!"
Rolf advanced again, using the maximum power of his aura to target the boy's head. Arian dodged it at the last second and spoke with a mocking smile: "Is that all you have? It seems you care more about your hair than your swordsmanship."
These words blinded Rolf with even more rage: "I swear I will sever your head from your body!"
Rolf concentrated all his energy into his sword, intending to end it with a single devastating attack. In contrast, Arian gripped the hilt of his giant sword with both hands, ready to receive the blow without using any aura. Everyone assumed he was incapable of using it and was doomed without a doubt.
Rolf charged again, swirling vortexes of aura wrapping around his blade as it approached Arian's face at breakneck speed. Mere centimeters away from crushing his skull, at the decisive moment, Arian pivoted to the left, exploiting the blind spot of his lunging opponent. With a motion that utilized the sheer weight of his massive sword, Arian swung his blade upward like a guillotine.
The struggle did not last long. Rolf's right arm was severed from the elbow and fell to the ground. Crimson blood splattered, staining the dirt of the courtyard. Time seemed to freeze for a moment before Rolf's panicked screams tore through the silence of the area. All the knights stood in shock, unable to process what had just happened.
Arian advanced with calm steps toward the fallen Rolf, pointing his blood-soaked sword at him. Rolf began to cry, begging, his tears mixing with the blood on his face: "Please... spare me... I beg you!"
Arian stared at him with cold, merciless eyes, and with a single, decisive strike, he swung his sword to separate Rolf's head from his body.
Arian turned toward the terrified knights, his black garments and blade dripping with blood, and shouted in a resolute voice: "I am Arian Oswald, son of Maegor Oswald! I swear, from this moment forward, anyone who insults my mother's honor again will meet a fate far worse than this!"
Arian returned his sword to its heavy scabbard. Only then did Sir Gared snap out of his shock. He raised his hand, declaring Arian's victory amidst a stifling silence pierced by barely audible whispers: "Did he really win?... How is it possible? He is just a boy!"
Arian left the courtyard with steady steps, leaving everyone in a state of utter disbelief. Before he disappeared through the gates, Sir Gared called out to him, a proud smile forming on his face: "Boy! I'll be waiting for you!"
Arian raised his hand high without turning back, and walked back inside the castle.
It did not take long for rumors to echo throughout the entire province: "The Lord's outcast son, only nine years old, defeated a veteran knight!". Whispers spread in every corner, and some malicious rumors even claimed the boy had used "black magic" during the battle. Fabricating such lies was to be expected; it was difficult for minds to accept a nine-year-old child defeating an experienced warrior.
Days passed, and Arian continued his grueling routine. He spent his time training as usual, sometimes doing intense push-ups in his room, and other times running in the courtyard. The development of his physique and the increase in his height in such a short span of time were noticeable to all.
One day, Arian heard a light knock on the door. The maid, Martha, entered the room after asking for permission, finding him sitting quietly, reading one of the ancient books. She said in a flustered voice: "I have important news, my Lord."
Arian ignored her words entirely, his eyes still fixed on the worn pages: "This book says that 800 years ago, from the continent of Erebus in the East... that is where the demons first came from, and the Great War broke out. How do you suppose humans were able to win that war?"
Martha replied with hesitation and nervousness: "I suppose... that the humans in the four kingdoms united to repel the invasion... but excuse me, my Lord, as I said, there is important news. The Lord invites you to have lunch with the family today."
Arian closed the book slowly and raised his head, showing genuine interest for the first time, a slight smile forming at the corner of his mouth: "My first meeting with the Lord... this sounds interesting."