* * *
Anakin expected swords to be drawn right away, but instead, the knights were running laps around the grounds to build stamina.
The process of honing pure martial skill was far more grueling than he imagined.
Roman observed them once before turning his gaze back to Anakin, who was watching them with sparkling eyes.
“The Delta Knights are the elite of the Descartes family. They’re also the most well-known in the territory. Every one of them is highly skilled. The family has seven other knight squads, but none of them measure up to my standards.”
There were a total of eight knight orders under the Descartes family.
Only the top 30 could join the Delta Knights.
In this era, wealth, strength, and honor were what sustained a noble house.
With territorial wars common—where families stole land and resources from one another—it was essential for a wealthy house to maintain its own knights or hire mercenaries.
That’s why nobles, even those of common birth, always valued strength.
So this is where there’s no discrimination…
Anakin’s eyes never left the training grounds.
Soon, the warm-up ended, and some of the knights began sparring.
For sword-wielders, experience is the fastest way to grow and overcome their limits.
Anakin memorized every single movement.
Among them, the top five activated their auras and easily overwhelmed their opponents.
Their swords traced glowing blue trails in the air—they looked almost like legendary heroes.
“You’re really focused. Enjoying it?” Roman asked.
Anakin nodded with a smile.
“Yeah. I understand now how swordsmen fight.”
“I could tell at first glance—you have talent for magic.
One day, you’ll surpass those guys without breaking a sweat.”
Magic is a realm of talent.
But Anakin still didn’t know how much talent he truly had.
The only recognition he had came from Mikhail—the chief archmage of the Magic Tower and his former teacher at the palace.
Unfortunately, he’d never really had the chance to prove himself.
Could I really surpass them one day?
…He didn’t know.
He’d been curious about the private tutor the Count’s family arranged for him.
But then—
“S-Sir?!”
To his shock, it was Sir Mikhail himself who arrived at the Count’s estate.
With golden-blonde hair almost orange in tone and striking blue eyes, Mikhail was stunning.
He had once declined a prestigious seat as a high elder at the Magic Tower—a position that came with massive power and wealth.
“What are you doing here?!”
He used to teach the crown prince and the top aristocratic youths at imperial social parties.
Why on earth had he come to the remote Descartes estate?
“Long time no see, Prince Anakin. It’s good to see you again. I’m Mikhail Reut, and starting today, I’ll be your instructor.”
“I-It’s great to see you too. But what about your imperial classes…?”
Mikhail greeted him with his usual sly smile, and Anakin asked,
“You didn’t know, did you? After you left the imperial palace, that class was abolished. By order of the Crown Prince, no less.”
Mikhail casually said this as he unpacked his belongings in the training room like it was nothing new.
“…What?”
The class ended after I left?
And the Crown Prince personally disbanded it?
In the original story, the only difference was Anakin’s absence.
To think that alone caused the entire class to be shut down.
“Thanks to that, the other young lords all returned to their noble houses, and I was looking for work when I received a message from Count Descartes.”
“Ah…”
“And I’ve always had an interest in your talents, Anakin. Didn’t I tell you before? You have a monstrous gift. That pure affinity with mana—it’s almost impossible to find even if you searched the whole continent.”
Anakin swallowed hard.
He wasn’t sure if it was true, but coming from someone like Mikhail, a high mage, it somehow felt real.
If Mikhail was this confident, maybe… he could believe in it.
“I’ll give it my all!”
His eyes sparkled with resolve.
At that, Mikhail, who had been all playful and sly, suddenly looked serious as he asked,
“Then… would you mind if I held your wrist for a moment?”
Anakin blinked, startled by the sudden request, but nodded.
At his permission, Mikhail’s expression stiffened, and he gently grasped Anakin’s wrist.
Without warning, he began injecting mana.
“Ah…!”
Mana rushed into his body all at once.
He could feel it probing deep inside him, tracing every internal path.
What is he doing right now?
Anakin instinctively tried to pull away, but Mikhail said in a firm voice,
“Your condition is worse than I thought. I heard you left the palace due to a chronic illness. So it was true.”
“…”
So Roman must have made up some excuse about why I left the palace.
“Your mana circuits are completely twisted. Your channels are blocked too…”
Maybe Mikhail’s better at diagnosing than most healers.
Anakin still felt a sense of discomfort from the foreign mana spreading inside him, but if he closed his eyes tightly, he could endure it.
“I heard you manifested as an Omega. That probably has a lot to do with it. I’m a Beta myself, so I don’t feel anything—but I can tell that’s the cause.”
“Will this… keep me from learning magic?”
“No. It’s nothing serious. The impurities can be purged, and the circuits can be cleared. But you’ll need to manage your condition carefully to avoid straining your body.”
Relieved by his reliable words, Anakin nodded, trying to calm his pounding heart.
Thank goodness.
He could still learn magic.
“Seeing your beautiful smile again is healing enough even without magic. A perk of the job, I suppose. Haha.”
Mikhail chuckled warmly, and Anakin, after a moment of hesitation, quietly confessed something he’d been holding back.
“Um… I honestly didn’t think I’d ever see you again. I wasn’t even your official student, and I didn’t think we’d ever meet again…”
“Hm. That’s strange. I thought you were the one who abandoned me. Wasn’t it you who left my class first?”
“…”
…Was it?
Well, from Mikhail’s perspective, the imperial class had been going smoothly—then suddenly collapsed, and he ended up being the scapegoat.
“You’re planning to study magic, so I assume you’re looking to join a magic order. Have you decided where to go?”
At that, Anakin fell into deep thought.
There were five major orders in the Lania Empire, known for producing the finest mages.
The magic world practically revolved around them.
Aunigellos, Delphine, Ratus, Zirken, and Pasadian.
Each had its own strengths, making the choice difficult…
“I choose Pasadian.”
The moment he said it, Mikhail’s expression turned icy.
If you were to ask what kind of order Pasadian was to provoke such a reaction—it was a place known for being incredibly selective.
Unlike other schools that accepted a wide range of talents, Pasadian only took in a few elites.
Becoming a formal disciple was near impossible.
They judged only by talent and skill.
Nobility meant nothing to them—it was just a title on paper.
Because of that, the place was full of eccentrics and didn’t have the best reputation, but no one could deny that the mages it produced were truly exceptional.
If you were truly gifted, Pasadian was worth a shot. Otherwise… it was better to avoid it.
Most nobles deliberately steered clear and chose from the remaining four schools instead.
Who knew what could happen in such a dangerous order?
Even apprentices were known to die there.
So Mikhail’s reaction was understandable.
Anakin had grown up sheltered, worshipped inside his noble bubble—could he really survive in a place like that?
“…Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“Pasadian is indeed a powerful school, but… they don’t follow any moral compass. No one can stop what happens there. Even if disciples kill each other.”
“I still want to try.”
The reason Anakin was so fixated on Pasadian… was because there was someone from that order he admired deeply in the original story.
A true eccentric, but every bit as powerful as the male leads—and someone who never backed down from them.
Verdin.
One of the five strongest on the continent.
Whenever he appeared in the novel, he was utterly captivating.
On the battlefield, he was unstoppable—and the disciples who followed him from Pasadian turned the tides of the story with overwhelming force.
The war mentioned here would occur about seven years later: a conflict between the Lania Empire and the Peace Alliance formed by three neighboring kingdoms.
Unlike the previous emperor, who favored diplomacy, the Crown Prince liked the taste of blood.
He often antagonized nearby nations, especially as his deteriorating relationship with Anakin pushed him further into madness.
Eventually, the three kingdoms could no longer stand by.
They formed an alliance and went to war with the Empire.
The ones on the front lines of that war… were the mages of Pasadian.
* * *
