CHAPTER 243: CHAPTER 242: SEEDS BENEATH THE OLD TREE

Since the magic lesson wouldn’t begin again until tomorrow, when Jen would be free to join, Lumberling returned to his usual training. Morning passed into noon as he cycled through cultivation, spear drills, body cultivation, and finally, the fluid motions of martial arts.

Each discipline flowed into the next with practiced ease, his focus sharp and unyielding. What caught Liraeth off guard, however, wasn’t just his skill, but the sheer variety. Every time she thought she had seen the full extent of him, he revealed something new. And strangely, instead of intimidating her, it filled her with a quiet sense of pride.

She didn’t leave his side. Instead, she sat beneath the shade of the tree, arms hugging her knees, her eyes following his every movement. Lumberling, for his part, didn’t mind her watchful gaze, if anything, he found it comforting.

But then, as she observed the strange, sweeping motions of his martial art, something stirred in her memory.

Her brows knit together. "...What are you training? That doesn’t look like any Knight technique."

Lumberling stilled mid-motion, turning toward her with a faint smile. "It isn’t. It’s called martial arts. Probably foreign, you won’t see much of it in the Empire."

"Martial arts..." she echoed, rolling the unfamiliar words on her tongue. Then her eyes narrowed slightly, thoughtful. "I’ve... actually seen something similar before."

That snapped his attention. His body straightened, and his tone sharpened ever so slightly. "You’ve seen something similar? Are you certain?"

Liraeth frowned, tilting her head as if searching her memory. "I’m not sure if it was exactly the same, but... yes. Years ago. I remember the movements. Your stance and flow, it reminds me of that."

For a moment, the sound of the wind filled the silence between them. Lumberling’s pulse quickened. It wasn’t confirmation, but it was close enough to stir something restless in him, a possibility, a connection.

"Where did you see it?" Lumberling asked, his voice low but intent.

"The Duchy of Stonepalm," Liraeth replied after a short pause.

Lumberling tilted his head. "Stonepalm? I’ve never heard of it before."

"It’s not surprising," she said with a small shrug. "The Duchy is quite isolated, though still under the Empire’s banner. Not many merchants deal directly with them. I only went once, about six years ago, for a trade negotiation."

Her gaze drifted as she recalled the memory. "By chance, I stumbled across someone practicing. The movements were elegant and strange, just like yours. It left such an impression that I never forgot it."

Lumberling’s frown deepened, his eyes narrowing. "Did they by chance call it martial arts too?"

Liraeth shook her head firmly. "No. I barely saw it before they noticed me. The moment they realized I was watching, they stopped immediately. Their reaction was so sharp that I didn’t dare ask questions. It felt... like something they didn’t want outsiders to know."

That only fueled Lumberling’s curiosity. "And the Duke, what kind of man is he?"

A faint smile tugged at Liraeth’s lips. "Famous, in his own way. There are rumors that he himself practices a unique technique he created. People whisper about it, but no one ever confirms anything."

"I see..." Lumberling nodded slowly, his thoughts racing. The pieces were aligning in ways he hadn’t expected. If Stonepalm truly sheltered martial artists, then perhaps he might learn something from them. "When the chance comes, I want to visit that place. Whether it’s the Duke or someone else, I need to see for myself."

His tone was calm, but the determination in his eyes made Liraeth glance at him twice. She could tell he wasn’t merely curious, he was hungry for truth.

"You’re serious about this," she murmured.

"Of course I am." Lumberling’s lips curved into a faint smile.

Liraeth studied him for a long moment, then nodded. "Very well. If fate ever takes us near Stonepalm, I’ll guide you there."

....

The next days flowed in rare peace. Each morning, beneath the wide branches of the old tree, Lumberling taught Jen and Liraeth the basics of magic.

He began with the fundamentals, basic magic theory, mana sensing, and the Concordia Cycle, a practice that would aid them in the future should they pursue both the mage’s and the knight’s path.

Jen’s eyes shone with excitement, her youthful eagerness carrying her forward like a gust of wind. Liraeth, though quieter, was no less determined.

They began with mana sensing. At first, Liraeth’s attempts were clumsy, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t feel even a trace of mana. Her breathing grew uneven from the effort, but she refused to give up.

Her sharp mind clung to every word he spoke, every gesture he showed. Sometimes she bit her lip in frustration, other times she threw him a glare when he corrected her hand position.

"You’re forcing it," Lumberling said one morning, crouching beside her as she tried to steady her breathing. "Relax. Sensing mana isn’t meant to be forced, it’s something you ease into. Let it come naturally."

Her cheeks warmed at how close his voice was. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, catching that familiar calm expression he always wore. "Easy for you to say," she muttered. "You make it look effortless."

"Because I stumbled through it first," he replied with a faint smile. Then, gently, he placed his hand over hers, guiding her breathing with his own rhythm. "Here. Match me."

For a moment, their breaths synced, rising and falling in harmony. Liraeth’s heart raced faster than her mind, and she quickly turned her face away so he wouldn’t see the color creeping across her cheeks.

Jen, of course, didn’t miss a thing. "Ooh, Sister Liraeth, you’re red again..." she teased, earning herself a glare so sharp she nearly tripped over her own feet.

Days turned to a week, their lessons continuing under sun and moon alike. And then, during one quiet night, Lumberling sat alone in meditation.

He crossed his legs in the clearing, the world hushed around him. The moonlight spilled over his shoulders, and his breathing slowed until it was almost indistinguishable from the stillness of the air. The Concordia Cycle turned within him, each rotation pulling his mana on his body.