Orion stopped laughing and looked at Rolan, his eyes glancing at the Bloodthirsty Trident slung across the boy's back. It had once been Orion's own favored weapon.
"You can go to the battlefield," he said finally. "But before you do, I want you to go and challenge every one of your peers among the humans, the blood elves, the dwarves, and the dragons. If you defeat them all, you can report to the Elder of Combat yourself."
It was a test, but also a way for Orion to indirectly increase Rolan's combat experience and broaden his horizons.
"Mentor, your disciple will definitely complete the task you have given me," Rolan said, placing a hand over his chest in a salute, his eyes blazing with passion.
"Alright, go on. Continue your training."
"As you command!"
Rolan turned, the trident on his back looking comically large for his frame. Watching him go, Orion suddenly had the strange feeling of a new generation rising to take the place of the old.
"Daddy, is that your disciple?"
