“Tsz!”

  A sound full of frustration escaped Mirac’s lips as his sword screeched against the Grand Knight’s bde.

  With an agile and decisive movement, he made a long leap backward to increase the distaween himself and the master and study his attack.

  “Damn it!” Mirac muttered under his breath, gripping the hilt tightly. ‘I may have mao disarm him, but only because I caught him off guard. Otherwise, I never would have stood a ce. In terms of strength and speed, the Master is still on a whole different level! And after all these years, it doesn’t seem like he’s ever taken me seriously. Not even today, when I gave it my all! And I have to admit, that stings a little…’

  The wind danced between their swords, iwining with the tension hanging over the training field.

  Mirac ched his jaw, smiling.

  ’Good!’ he thought to himself. ’It’s time to use it!’

  Fog, Mirac began to slow his breathing, allowing the Mana to flow through his body like a silent river winding through a valley.

  Almost instantly, he felt stronger, faster—ready to unleash his newfound energy!

  Oher side of the field, Leonard watched him silently, his eyes fixed on him.

  ’gratutions, young Prince… Despite having only one arm, you have bee incredibly strong!’ thought the Grand Knight, a faint smile crossing his lips. ’Therefore, I have no reason to hold back against you any longer!’

  With this realization, Leonard also let his Mana flow. His body began to glow with a fiery red aura, living fmes slithering along his limbs.

  The air around him ignited, rapidly heating up. Thanks to his ability, “Instant Knowledge of Temperature”, Mirac immediately sehe ge.

  But none of this intimidated him.

  Not even the Master’s intense blue eyes, which suddenly turned a deep crimson.

  For a long moment, Mirad Leonard remaiill—silent—charging their bodies with magical energy.

  ‘Now!‘

  In perfeison—sensing signals only they could reize—the two swordsmen uhemselves at each other once more, bdes gleaming, ready to strike.

  But just before their swords could csh again in a final, decisive g, a deep and authoritative voice cut through the air:

  “That’s enough!”

  The words were not shouted, yet they resonated with such force that they stopped both of them iracks.

  Mirad Leonard’s swords halted mere inches from tact, residual vibrations rippling through the bdes.

  The energy of the unfirike surged outward, kig up a veil of dust that quickly dissipated into the wind.

  Both warriors, their gazes still vivid from the iy of the blow that was meant to e, turoward the authoritative voice that had interrupted them.

  There was no doubt.

  It was him: King Arthur himself!

  “My King…” Leonard begaantly, unsure of how to tinue, as his eyes turned blue again and the red light enveloping his body faded away.

  Mira the other hand, remained silent, but a feverish curiosity shone in his hazel eyes.

  Since he had started training with the sword eight years ago, his father had tered a single word during their sessions. Never!

  And it recisely for this reason that, at that moment, both Mirad Leonard hesitated, uain about how to react.

  As they waited for King Arthur to say more, they both remained silent as he stared at them with an inscrutable gaze. His cloak draped with impeccable precision over his bck military uniform, adorned with red details, radiating an aura of cold authority.

  “I’ve seen enough, I’d say,” King Arthur finally said, his voice calm but firm. “There’s no point in tinuing.”

  That said, the King turned with a decisive movement, turning his ba the two swordsmen who watched him in silence.

  With a solemn step, he made his way toward the wooden gate, finally leaving the training field behind.

  Behind him, only the echo of his heavy footsteps remained—a sound that grew fainter and fainter until it disappeared pletely into the wind.

  Mirac silently watched his father’s figure recede, sighing with a touencholy.

  ’Seven years ago, when I awakened, he seemed so proud of me for “defeating” Krk!’ he thought, gripping the hilt of his sword tightly.

  A sharp pang of frustration ched his heart, poisoning that memory.

  ’But ever since he found out that I am an “Inpatible”, and that I would never have a Synto aloh Fire, as I think he wanted—he went back to being cold and distant with me, just like before…’

  The bde of his sword, now devoid of the energy of battle, suddenly became heavy in his hand.

  As he shook his head to drive away those intrusive and discing thoughts, the sound of approag footsteps caught his attention.

  Slowly, Mirac turned and saw his Master advang towards him.

  “You were phenomenal, young Prince!” said Leonard, with a smile and a deliberately enthusiastie, almost as if he wao dissipate the tension the king had left behind after leaving. “Using Magic Body Enha exclusively in ys was a brilliant move. I never saw it ing! Really great job, young Prince!”

  “You are too kind, Master,” Mirac replied, a small smile slowly f on his face.

  At least Leonard had always tried to lift his spirits over the years, every time he saw the ess of the father threaten to extinguish the son’s warrior spirit.

  “I would also like to offer my pliments, young Prince…”

  The deep voice of Gee reached them before his figure did.

  The old warrior advanced with a firm stride, stopping beside them in the ter of the training field.

  “I don’t know if it’s ehanks to the teags of Grand Knight Leonard, but for ye, you are certainly on a whole other level!”

  Leonard, listening silently to his old master, couldn’t help but nod, fully agreeing with those words.

  Meanwhile, General Rassing stroked his short white beard, his dark eyes fixed on Mirac as he observed him with i.

  “Aside from today, I have tended one of your training sessions,” the General said, crossing his arms. “In fact, this is the first time we have met. A, I am quite certain that you are the kind of person who has always trained hard! Perhaps it is my long career as a teacher that suggests it to me… However, despite that, my personal curiosity still pels me to ask you ohing, young Prince: is there, by any ce, a reason that drives you to train with such dedication?”

  If they had asked him that questio years ago, Mirac would have answered without hesitation: “I want to make my father proud!”

  But now…

  Setting aside the versation he had as a child with Carmen—ever since Mirac had faced Krk, everything had ged!

  From that day wheh had almost e to cim his soul, a new fire had started burning inside him.

  “A reason?” Mirac repeated, almost as if he were thinking out loud.

  At the General’s question, the young Prince didn’t immediately respond.

  Instead, he slowly opened his hand, staring at the palm marked by calluses that pulsed in sync with the beat of his heart.

  For a moment, he stood still, his face rexed despite the sweat that beaded on his forehead.

  Then he lifted his gaze, his green eyes shining brightly.

  With a decisive gesture, Mirac ched his fist.

  “There’s no particur reason, actually,” Mirac decred, his voice vibrating with determination. “I JUST WANT TO GET STRONGER! Maybe even strohan my Master!”

  A silehick with tension fell between them.

  Gee and Leonard exged a gnce before returning to stare at the young Prince, saying nothing.

  It was then General Rassing who broke the silence, with a calm tone and an enigmatic smile:

  “A truly ambitious goal, young Prince…”

  His voice lowered slightly, taking on an almost serious tone.

  “But I warn you: it won’t be a walk in the park! After all, I’ve heard that you’re an ‘Inpatible.’ Therefore, the path to the summit will be even more challenging for you. And I have no doubt that there will be moments in your life when giving up will seem like the easiest choice.”

  That being said, Gee’s tone ged once again—being softer, almost like that of a wise person intending to impart a life lesson:

  “However, if you tio train with this determination, I’m sure you will bee strong enough to overe any obstacle that es your way.”

  Miraodded seriously.

  “Thank you, General,” he said, his voice firm, as the old man’s words took root in his mind.

  After an exge of smiles, Gee turo Leonard.

  “You really have a taleudent, Leonard. So much so that I’d like to stay a little loo observe the rest of your training. But unfortunately, I’m afraid I must leave now.”

  He paused, then added with a hint of nostalgia:

  “It leasure to see you again after all these years. Fortunately, we’ll see each ain ily two weeks at the Prince’s procmation ceremony. And maybe we’ll have the ce to talk a bit more, what do you think?”

  Leonard smiled.

  “I look forward to it, Master,” said the Grand Knight, bowing towards the General.

  After that, Gee turowards Mirac, his gaze filled with respect.

  “And you, young Pri has truly been an honor to meet you!”

  He bowed slightly, pg a hand on his chest in a gesture of deference.

  “I hope to live long enough to serve you one day, my Prince…”

  Mirac, moved by the General’s words, felt warmth rising to his cheeks.

  “You ftter me, General Rassing,” he responded politely, trying to hide his embarrassment.

  Gee then straightened up, a sincere smile lighting up his face.

  “Good. See you soon, then,” he said before turning and walking away with a determiride, his red cloak swaying slightly behind him.

  Mirac watched him for a moment, as he disappeared beyond the training field.

  Theook a deep breath and turowards Leonard.

  “Well. Shall we pick up where we left off, Master?”

  The Grand Knight smiled and nodded, giving a decisive motion with his head.

  “Certainly, young Prince.”

  Without needing to say more, the two of them took a few steps away from each other and assumed the guard position.

  A few moments ter, the metallic csh of their swords returo echo across the training field.

  * * *

  Ihe majestic walls of the castle, King Arthur climbed to the third floor and walked through the long corridors of white marble, until he reached his personal study.

  o the massive wooden door, a butler waited silently, his hands csped in front of him, his gaze lowered in respectful anticipation.

  “My King,” the man said with a slight bow, “an anonymous letter has arrived for you.”

  Arthur stopped abruptly.

  “An anonymous letter?” he repeated, furrowing his brow.

  “Exactly,” the butler firmed. “It was left on your desk, but no one has seen or knows who delivered it to you.”

  The King remained silent for a few moments, his face impassive.

  But iy, he was pletely shocked.

  ‘An anonymous letter?! Could it be…?’

  * * *

  At diime, Mirac sat at his usual pext to Michelle.

  The dining hall, rge and solemn, was lit by golden deliers that cast dang shadows on the white walls.

  The room was also ed in an unnatural silence: as often happened, no one spoke or seemed ined to do so.

  Only the discreet king of cutlery and the rustling of the servants’ clothes broke that unreal quiet.

  ‘Everyone’s quiet today, huh?’ thought Mirac, while sipping his gss of water, watg the flickering refle of the dle fmes on the crystal-clear surface of the gss.

  After a few mihe servaered in an orderly liheir light, rhythmic footsteps eg on the shiny marble floor. They carried trays filled with steaming dishes, the aroma quickly filling the room.

  Carmen, the Prince’s personal servant, approached Mirac with her usual grace.

  However, her dark eyes were fixed oe she was holding, avoiding any eye tact with anyone.

  With a measured gesture, the red-haired maid pced the pte in front of him.

  “Thank you,” Mirac said, a slight smile—his tone seemed to remind her of their arra for that night.

  Carmen, however, did not respond.

  She simply carried out her task with measured movements.

  Mirac didn’t pay too much attention to it.

  After all, it was natural to see a mysterious woman like her behave in a “strange” way at times.

  When Miraished his pte, Carmeuro serve him the sed course, but again without saying anything.

  After that, the maid turned a, in plete silence.

  * * *

  After dinner, Mirac headed towards his room, feeling the weight of the day pressing on every fiber of his body.

  “Damn! Where is this sudden drowsiness ing from?” Mirac thought. “I didn’t think I’d be this tired…”

  As he moved down the corridor, he stretched and yawned several times, as if every movement could alleviate at least some of the drowsiness.

  But when he reached his room, the bed—with its soft and weling sheets—seemed like the only refuge possible.

  “No! If I lie down now, I’ll definitely fall asleep. I ’t afford that! I have to stay awake tonight and wait for Carmen!” he murmured to himself, g his fists in an attempt to push away the fatigue.

  A determined expression appeared on his face as he fought against the sleep that threateo overwhelm him.

  * * *

  It was the dead of night.

  The castle was shrouded in absolute silence.

  In Mirac’s room, however, the silence was broken by the stant tig of the clock resting on the desk.

  The young Prince paced bad forth, hands csped behind his back, as impatienawed at his nerves like an invisible worm.

  Each step felt heavier, den with growing .

  ’Where the hell is Carmen?!’ thought Mirac, his face marked by tension. ‘It’s already 00:27. She should have been here a long time ago!’

  But then, all of a suddeopped dead in his tracks.

  “Dammit! Did something happen to her?”

  The thought struck him like a bde, peing deep into his being.

  Although sometimes strange and mysterious, enigmatic, even uable, Carmen was certainly not the type to be te without reason.

  “What do I do now?”

  Despite having promised her he’d atiently in his room, the idea of going out to look for her began creeping into his mind—an insistent call impossible to ignore.

  He was still lost in thought when-

  Knock. Knock.

  A sharp sound echoed against the wooden door.

  Mirac flinched.

  ‘There she is, finally!’

  A smile crossed his face, the tensioing away in a sudden wave of relief.

  Without a sed thought, he hurried towards the door—ready to hunt down his sister Michelle’s spy alongside the red-haired woman.

  But the very moment his hand brushed the doorknob, the young Priiffened.

  ‘What th-?!’

  A sudden torpor crept into his body, ing around him like an invisible shroud.

  His strength abandoned him in an instant, as if his very life force had been drained away.

  His breath became shallow, his head began to spin.

  The room around him seemed to , its edges blurred, as though he were being sucked into a vortex.

  He staggered backward, but in that state, he iably lost his bance.

  His legs gave way uhe weight of his own body, and soon after, Mirac colpsed to the ground.

  The wooden floor met him with a dull thud.

  “W-What… i-is happening to me?” he stammered, as his body trembled untrolbly.

  These were definitely not normal side effects of an illness.

  The trembling, the alternating waves of heat and cold under his skin, the tingling creeping up his spine before bursting into a sharp pain in his chest… everything seemed to point to something far more sinister!

  So… was he supposed to think he had been poisoned?

  But how?

  When?

  Who could have-?

  No… He didn’t eveo ask!

  Deep down, he already knew.

  His instincts screamed that it was the same person who, eight years ago, had hired Krk to eliminate him.

  And now, whoever they were, they had likely found a way to poison the food prepared by Carmen—without her even realizing it.

  Carmen, always so careful, so meticulous… How could she have missed something like this?

  Unless…

  No. He didn’t even want to sider that possibility!

  As these thoughts raced through his mind, Mirac tried again and again to get up—to fight back!—but to no avail. It was as if an enormous, invisible hand inning him down, draining him of every st ounce of energy.

  If he couldn’t move, though, he could at least try to slow down the poison!

  So, despite the dire situation, Miraaged to gather just enough tration to let his Mana flow through his body.

  ‘This should buy me some time…’ he thought, gritting his teeth.

  But even though he had found a temporary remedy, his physical dition tio deteriorate.

  His breathing grew more bored, slower and slower, until it became a hoarse whisper.

  And then-

  He couldn’t breathe…

  He couldn’t breathe anymore!

  ‘Shit! At this rate, I’m going to die!’

  A primal terror seized him, twisting his stomato knots.

  With a desperate effort, Mirac tried t himself towards the door.

  His arms trembled, his muscles refused to obey, but determination still burned within him.

  He had to open it.

  He had to scream.

  He had to ask for help!

  Carmen was outside, in front of the door, probably waiting patiently for the Prince’s permission to enter.

  And right now, she was the only one who could save him!

  But every attempt to call her ended in miserable failure.

  The words died in his throat, strangled by the ck of air.

  And even if he had mao reach the door, lying on the ground, he wouldn’t have been able to open it.

  And without breath, he couldn’t even scream.

  He couldn’t do anything!

  He was pletely helpless, powerless against what was happening to him.

  ’Sh-Shit! W-What I do now?’

  Suddenly, almost in respoo his desperate yet silent plea for help, the door creaked open.

  A long, soft creak apahe Prince’s spasming lungs, his mouth now sck, saliva dripping untrolbly.

  His green eyes, clouded and heavy, struggled to pierce through the darkness of the room.

  But even in that state, Mirac still mao make out the shape of the door slowly opening before him.

  “C-Carmen…!” he mao whisper, his voice broken and weak, as a glimmer of hope fought to break through the terror ing him.

  But to his question, Mirac received no answer.

  He didn’t hear his personal servant’s worried voior the sound of hurried footsteps rushing towards him.

  There was only the muffled silence of the night.

  “C-Carmen…?”

  Something was off.

  Mirac blinked vulsively, trying to adjust his vision to the faint moonlight filtering through the arched windows.

  And that was when he saw them…

  Five figures.

  Motionless in the doorway, shrouded in the shadow of the corridor.

  Three of them had simir outlines, almost indistinguishable from one another, while the other two stood apart in a different way.

  A, beyond their elusive shapes, oail uhem all: the silence.

  An unnatural silehick with an uhat seemed to pulse in the air.

  “W-Who… Who’s there?” Mirac barely mao stammer as dread took the pce of reason.

  The young Prince desperately tried to grasp aail, anything that could reveal the identity of those figures.

  But it was too dark, and his vision, blurred by weakness, could make out nothing but shadows.

  Shadows that seemed to be watg him, waiting patiently—like predators lurking in the dark.

  Mirac…

  No: Vector khis feeling very well!

  The breath that was missing…

  The vision that blurred…

  The body that was giving in, sed by sed…

  He had no doubts: that was the cold embrace of death!

  “H-Help…” he murmured, hoping that those strangers, whoever they were, would rescue him.

  But again, no one responded.

  No one moved.

  They all remained frozen in pot shifting even an inch, like true statues.

  ‘W-Who the h-hell are they?’ Miradered.

  Despite the chaos and fusion clouding his mind, a hypothesis began to emerge from his tahoughts:

  What if it wasn’t a single person who wanted him dead?

  What if those who had hired Krk weren’t actually ag alone?

  Perhaps, behind all of this, there was a group of traitors with the same goal: to elimihe Prince.

  And perhaps—sihey didn’t seem willing to lift a single fio help him—it was those five people at the door who had hired the fake professor and poisoned Mirac!

  Now everything was starting to make a little more sense.

  However, besides this, there was still one unresolved question:

  Where was Carmen?

  The fact that she hadn’t arrived yet—despite having agreed to meet at exactly midnight—plunged Mirac bato despair.

  What if something bad really had happeo her?”

  What if those five people at the door had poisoned her too?

  But why?

  Had they somehow discovered her true identity, and now they were trying to elimi just the Prince, but also his “secret bodyguard”?

  But then, how?

  How the hell had they figured her out?

  HOW?!

  ‘D-Damn it!’ Mirac thought, as his heart hammered in his chest.

  At some point, a clear beam of moonlight fell on one of the five figures, enting and revealing the features of their face.

  And in that white beam of light, those pierg eyes, fixed on him from above—full of disdain—seemed particurly familiar…

  ‘Huh?…’

  Mirac’s heart skipped a beat.

  ‘N-No… T-T-That’s i-impossible!’

  A chill of pure horror froze his veins.

  His green eyes widened in shock, while his lips parted slightly in a futile attempt to form words, to deny the undeniable truth standing before him.

  But the words refused to e out.

  It wasn’t just the ck of air suffog him, but also the knot of pure shock tightening around his throat.

  A, somehow, the name of the person he had reized mao escape in a broken whisper, as fragile as cracked gss:

  “D-D… Dad?!“

  Mirac’s voice trembled, waveriween disbelief and sheer terror. His eyes couldn’t look away from the figure standing in the doorway.

  But… was it really him?

  Was it really his father standing there?

  Or was it just an illusion?

  A cruel trick pyed by his mind on the verge of breaking?

  But whether it was reality or illusion, Mirac did not have time to find out.

  Before he could say, think, or do anything else, the world around him dissolved into darkness.

  His mind shut down.

  The Mana within him came to a sudden halt, ceasing its flow through his body.

  His breath stopped.

  And with it, the beating of his heart…

  The five figures at the threshold remained motionless, unfazed.

  They knew with absolute certainty what had just happened:

  In that moment, Mirac had just died.