CHAPTER 52: REAL TRAINING II

"Fool. You push like a man sprinting toward death... but your path still leads up."

She knelt beside the bath, trailing a finger along its edge.

"It took over many years for you to face the first gate of your potential... but now that it’s cracked, the flood won’t stop." Her tone dropped lower, more to herself than anyone else. "I see it clearly now—the one they feared. The one she tried to silence."

She closed her eyes, voice soft. "Let’s see if the world is ready for the true star of Vareldis... the third son who was never meant to rise."

And in the golden bath, Fenric stirred faintly—his heartbeat syncing to a rhythm not of pain... but of awakening.

Mavis stood, brushing the edge of her robe before turning away.

"Healing will take time," she said calmly. "Keep an eye on him. And if he wakes up, tell him he needs to remain in the water for at least another six hours."

The maids bowed respectfully.

Among the two was Aria—a future goddess candidate of Assassin, but in far furure. Fenric had met her by chance and taken her under him. Though he had not claimed her in the way many nobles would, he had purchased her freedom and offered her a position within his retinue. He then offered her and other slaves he bought a chance to be his blade but among them only she refused him.

At first, she intended only to serve him briefly—offering herself once, as was customary, before planning to quietly disappear.

But something had changed.

Over the past few months, she had watched him. Closely. The way he treated others. The way he never raised his voice or hands. The way he never looked at his maids like they were lesser.

She’d been ready once—to lie with him, fulfill an expectation, and be done with it. But every time she offered, he refused. Gently. Firmly.

For the last month, she had stopped asking. Instead, she requested to serve him during the night shifts, tending to his quarters, guarding his dreams.

Now, watching him submerged in golden light, body worn thin from pushing too far, something tightened in her chest.

She saw it clearly now.

This man—this prince—was unlike any other noble she had known. And that truth had begun to shake something loose within her heart.

She then remembered the other slaves—those now rising under the two knights Fenric had left in charge of their training. A thought stirred within her.

Was she now starting to see him differently?

Unlike others who claimed they would devote their lives to their master, she hadn’t believed in those words. Not after what she’d witnessed with other nobles. But he was... different. Truly different. She found herself staring at his face as he slept, her thoughts quiet and conflicted.

"Our master... he’s still different, right?" said the other maid softly.

Aria blinked and looked at her. "What do you mean?"

Melanie, the other maid, continued, "You remember back then... when we were in the slave house? The nobles always trained us not just to clean and serve, but to please them at night too. They even taught us healing skills... just in case they took their anger out on us."

"It’s true... Some nobles would beat or even cripple their servants just for fun," she added bitterly. "But he—our master—he’s never laid a hand on us. Even when he’s exhausted or frustrated, he never raises his voice. If he sees us amke any mistake, he just says, ’Be careful next time,’ and leaves it at that."

Aria nodded slowly. "We’re lucky he bought us. We’ve all heard what happens to other slaves... Sometimes they’re tortured or sold again when the nobles get bored."

Melanie’s voice grew quieter. "You know... when they said he was the third prince, I thought that was the end. I thought someone like that would use us and throw us away. But this ’different’... it’s real."

"I even tried once..." she admitted, eyes lowering. "He was frustrated and tired that night, I thought I can help him , I wanted to thank him for treating us like any human, So I offered myself to him. I thought—maybe just for that night I can help him just more than with his chores—but he gently pushed me away. As if he respected me."

Aria’s gaze lingered on Fenric’s still form, healing in the golden bath. She didn’t know what she wanted from him anymore.

As the two maids continued their hushed conversation, the still water around Fenric rippled. His eyes fluttered open, a faint golden sheen glinting beneath his lashes.

He blinked slowly, breath steady. "How much time has passed?" he asked, voice calm but hoarse.

"Three hours, Your Highness," Melaine replied quickly, straightening. "Lady Mavis said you needed to remain submerged for six total, so you must rest in the water for three more."

Fenric gave a faint nod, eyes closing again for a moment. The pain had dulled, replaced by a strange warmth in his limbs—as if the golden spring itself was recognizing his will.

Then Melaine stepped forward silently, lifting a folded towel. "May I help support your head, Your Highness?" she asked gently.

He gave her a tired but appreciative nod.

She moved behind him, letting his head rest on her knees while he reclined against the edge of the enchanted tub which is size of an pool. Aria moved closer too, her hands unconsciously fidgeting at the hem of her sleeve, her thoughts still tangled.

After a pause, the quiet was broken.

"May I... ask a question?" Aria spoke up softly, her voice hesitant but clear.

Fenric opened one eye, glancing at her with a curious gleam. "What is it?"

She looked down, then up again—straight into his gaze. "Why do you try so hard? You’re a prince. You could have anything. So why... why do you work harder than the rest of us?"

Even Melaine looked surprised at the boldness of the question, but Fenric didn’t scold her. His gaze drifted upward, to the faint light shining down from the crystalline ceiling.

"...Because if I don’t," he murmured, "then I will just die."

Aria’s brows furrowed slightly. "But... you’re a prince—"

"No." His voice was soft, but resolute. "Precisely because I’m a prince... I can’t afford to be weak. In this empire, weakness means death. The ruler of Vareldis is not crowned by birthright alone—but by strength."

The water shimmered faintly around him as his words settled into silence.

He continued, quieter now, as if the truth pained him more than the wounds beneath the surface. "If I want to live on my own terms... if I wish to shape my fate rather than be shackled by it... then I must become powerful. Unshakable. Only then can I protect myself."

A pause.

"...Only then can I truly live."

Both maids stared at him—eyes wide, stunned into silence. There was no arrogance in his voice, no self-pity—just quiet conviction. Not the kind worn by those born into thrones, but forged by those who claw their way toward destiny, inch by inch, with bloodied hands.

Aria’s expression softened, her gaze lowering slightly as she recalled the last time he’d said those words.

"Serve me eternally, and I will give you power."

Back then, she thought he’d merely said it to bind them—just another royal with honeyed words and cold intent. But now... seeing how far he pushed himself, seeing the pain he endured alone in silence—she began to wonder.

Was he serious back then? Was he always serious?

"...Can I still be your sword?" she asked suddenly, her voice quiet, almost uncertain.

Fenric tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

She looked him in the eyes now, her voice more resolute. "That day, you said... you’d give us strength. Help us awaken our blessings. Unlock our class paths. And then you asked us to swear ourselves to you. Eternally."

She paused, then asked, "Do you still mean that?"

Fenric gave a faint, tired smile. "You rejected last time? So why ask now?"

"...Because if even a prince like you is ready to bleed down to the bone to grow stronger... then who am I to stay weak?" she whispered, the tremble in her voice barely hidden. "If you can chase strength so fiercely, then so can I."

He nodded slowly, the light in his eyes returning bit by bit. "Hmm, Okay then I will help you get your Blessing later."

Aria bowed her head. "Thank you, Your Highness."

Fenric chuckled faintly. "Don’t. Just make sure you don’t regret this."

"I won’t," she replied with a small smile.

"your higness can I also train with other slaves?" Melain asked as Fenric said " youc an but do you even have an talent?" he asked as she nodded " Sadly I don’t have it, The Intermediate Master realm is my peak"

"its okay, Intermediate Master realm is not that bad either" Fenric said as she just smiled.