Training ended with Theo's usual sharp tone.
"That's enough for today."
Lowering his sword to his side, he loosened his stance, let out a breath and gave a nod of dismissal.
Lately, the basics had gotten a bit tougher. He said it was because I was improving quickly, but we'd been stuck on fundamentals for a long time. It felt… deliberate.
According to Theo, a solid foundation made everything else easier later on.
Mnex had said something similar once, just with more insults.
"At the very least, you're ready now," Theo added, just as he turned to leave.
"Wait… ready for what?"
He stopped, didn't turn around.
"Hunting season. It's a family tradition. Every Godfrey goes on their first hunt at age seven… and doesn't return until they've made their first kill."
Then he walked off.
Ah.
So that's what this whole year of physical torment was leading to.
"If it's any comfort, your odds of survival have increased by seven percent," Mnex muttered.
Seven percent? What were they before?
"Oh, I'm glad you asked. Right now you're at exactly seven point two."
We'd started with stance work. Just stance, almost an entire month of it.
Then came grip, followed by basic motions, high guard, low guard, diagonal cuts, vertical strikes, thrusts, parries, counter attacks, and footwork drills.
Theo treated each one like a sacred ritual. For me, it was just an endless loop of sweat and repetition.
The hardest part wasn't learning the moves, it was linking them together.
I'd practiced them dozens of times in my mind world with Mnex, but what my brain remembered, my body couldn't quite execute.
We'd focused heavily on footwork during boxing drills. It should've helped, but my six year old body didn't have the rhythm yet.
With every mistake, Theo would shout:
"Dead!"
"Dead!"
"DEAD!"
Each shout came with a strike from his wooden stick to my leg, my back, my arm. I was starting to wonder if this was why Doyle was so terrified of him.
While I trained, my mother gave birth to a baby girl. It happened just before the first frost of winter.
I'd turned seven. Roderic was now three, and just starting to form words.
The way he called me "Bvutar!" melted something inside me every time.
They named my sister Elizabeth Caroline, but I called her Beth.
She was just a baby, but something about the house felt different since she arrived.
"Son."
My grandfather was waiting for me at the mansion's main entrance.
"Come with me."
He said nothing more, just turned and walked.
I followed quietly behind as we passed through the section reserved for soldiers and guards. Eventually, we reached a building set apart from all others. Two guards stood at its entrance. One opened the door as we approached.
The moment we stepped inside, I realized it was an armory.
Swords, shields, spears, bows neatly arranged along the walls. Arrows were stacked carefully in one corner.
"I've never liked these tools," Grandpa said, lifting a sword and examining it.
"Magic was always more special to me."
He put the sword back, then turned to me.
"I'm sure no one's ever told you this before. So listen carefully."
And just like that, he began to speak.
A story from two hundred years ago.
The first Godfrey, Albert, was a master of resolve.
Back then, Godfrey's Cross was just a small village called Virid'Avon.
Like the river that still runs through our lands, the name has endured.
At that time, the Kingdom of Tharowen was still small. From the west, the neighboring Gwnmyni Kingdom declared war, sending its armies down from the northwest.
Albert, along with a few friends and the local villagers, resisted.
Their defense was so effective that the enemy was stalled until Tharowen's king and army could arrive.
The Gwnmyni forces lost momentum, bled strength, and ultimately suffered a crushing defeat once Tharowen's troops arrived.
Not long after, the Gwnmyni dynasty crumbled under the weight of those losses, torn apart by both Tharowen and other kingdoms.
"If you ask me, they were devoured like carrion," Mnex muttered.
Albert's courage and skill earned him a noble title.
And because the people called him "God's peace," the surname Godfrey was born.
Virid'Avon, with its fertile lands, grew and transformed into what is now Godfrey's Cross.
Albert's mastery of resolve set a tradition, the first hunt at age seven.
Just as I would soon face.
"When you go on your first hunt, it's tradition to take a short sword, a spear, and a bow."
Ugh. So I'd be going fully geared, then.
"Why all that? I mean, it's just deer or rabbits, right?"
Grandpa burst out laughing.
"Deer? Rabbits? No, son. First hunt means a wolf. Or a bear."
A… what?
I was seven!
"Don't worry. Your father and I each took down a wolf. My father got a bear."
He said it so casually, like he was ordering vegetables at the market.
"And it's just after winter. They might be aggressive, but they're not back to full strength yet."
"But… why wolves or bears?"
"Because legend says Albert hunted one of those on his first."
So… you're not even sure?
"That's how legends work, Henry. A bit of truth, a dash of fiction, and a whole lot of exaggeration."
At this point, I didn't care what was true. Mnex wasn't helping either.
"You'll leave at dawn. Doyle will accompany you, but only as an observer. No help. Just a report."
"At least let Theo come?"
"No. And you can't bring food either. You eat what you find."
You've got to be kidding me.
"Ah, don't you miss the good old days, Henry… sorry, Hal Miller? Hahaha."
When I returned to the mansion, my mother was waiting, holding little Beth in her arms.
Out of the three of us siblings, I was the only one who resembled Father. The other two were exact copies of Mother.
For some reason, that had always felt slightly unfair.
Beth was only five months old, still far from walking.
As Mother held her close, there was an odd look in her eyes, part longing, part worry.
"My little prince has grown up, and I didn't even notice," she said softly.
Her voice trembled, just a bit.
"Don't worry, Mom," I said with a smile.
"I'll always be your little prince."
I wanted to reassure her, but her eyes still drifted somewhere distant.
"Be careful during the hunt," she added.
"You never know what's out there.
You can't take food, but you can bring whatever gear you need. Pack extra clothes in case it rains…"
"Mom… it's okay. I'll be back before you know it."
I didn't say it to convince myself.
I said it for her.
But deep down, I wondered.
How hard could it really be?
I spent the rest of the day with my mother, Roderic, and Beth.
That evening, I packed my bag.
And with the thought of not seeing my soft, warm bed for a while, I went to sleep early.
It wasn't even dawn yet when…
Knock.
Knock.
KNOCK!