The study fell into brief silence.
Duke Frederick's gaze pressed down on Wulfrik's shoulders like something tangible, but he didn't flinch, calmly meeting that scrutinizing stare.
"A good strategy."
Duke Frederick finally said, taking out an exquisite wooden box from his drawer and pushing it toward Wulfrik.
"Next month is your fourteenth birthday, but I may have to leave the territory for a while."
"This is an early birthday gift."
Wulfrik opened the wooden box to find an exquisite dagger inside.
The sheath was carved with the Sowerbright family's unique silver eagle crest, and when the blade was drawn, it gleamed coldly, clearly the work of a master craftsman.
"Thank you, Father."
Wulfrik said solemnly.
Duke Frederick stood up and walked to the window, gazing at the distant mountains: "Wulfrik, you're much more mature than your peers."
"That's good, because..."
He paused, his voice becoming deeper.
"A storm is coming, and the Sowerbright family needs a stronger heir."
Wulfrik gripped the dagger tighter, his knuckles turning white from the force.
His father's words carried an ominous foreboding, as if he were making some kind of final arrangements.
That heavy dagger now felt more like a symbolic handover than a simple birthday gift.
"Starting tomorrow, you'll come to the study every afternoon. I'll personally teach you the essentials of territory and military management."
Duke Frederick's face returned to its usual stern dignity, as if that moment of softness had never existed.
"Now, go to your sword lesson."
Wulfrik bowed and left the study, his mind racing with thoughts.
Frequent messengers from the royal capital, border bandit problems, his father's unusual behavior...
All these signs were like puzzle pieces gradually forming a picture of impending crisis in his mind.
And he, a transmigrator with military knowledge from his previous life, had to make thorough preparations before this unknown storm arrived.
...
On Argentum Eagle Castle's training ground, sunlight scorched the flagstone floor, raising waves of heat.
Wulfrik held an oak sword, assuming the standard starting stance. Sweat ran down his increasingly angular jaw, creating dark spots on the stone slabs.
"Again!"
Leo, one of Klan Kingdom's most renowned sword masters.
He roared and thrust his wooden sword like a viper toward Wulfrik's left shoulder.
This bearded middle-aged man had taught countless noble children, but had never seen a student like Wulfrik.
Wulfrik shifted slightly, the wooden sword passing just an inch from his shoulder.
He didn't rush to counterattack but maintained his defensive stance, waiting for the optimal moment.
This was what his previous life's military training had taught him—patience was often more important than brute force.
"Your defense is too passive!"
Leo bellowed as he launched a series of attacks, his wooden sword whistling through the air.
"On the battlefield, enemies won't give you a chance to catch your breath!"
Three fierce slashes came one after another, but Wulfrik blocked them with prophetic precision.
When Leo's fourth strike lost some force, Wulfrik suddenly switched from defense to offense.
His counterattack wasn't a simple thrust, but a clever feint—the wooden sword first swayed right, but when Leo moved to block, it suddenly changed direction, finally stopping just half an inch from Leo's throat.
The training ground fell silent except for the sound of their heavy breathing.
"Very good, Wulfrik, your progress amazes me."
Leo nodded approvingly as he withdrew his attack.
"Your reaction speed and judgment have already surpassed what's normal for your age group."
Though Leo had taught many children of great nobles, this was his first time encountering someone with Wulfrik's talent.
It could be said that Wulfrik's current swordsmanship level only lacked experience compared to some sword masters.
Wulfrik smiled slightly.
He knew his performance far exceeded what a fourteen-year-old should be capable of, but at this moment he no longer deliberately hid his abilities.
If the storm truly was coming as Duke Frederick had said, then demonstrating value was more important than concealing strength.
"Thank you, Teacher Leo. I'll continue working hard."
Wulfrik responded, his eyes flashing with determined light.
...
When the setting sun stretched the training ground's shadows long, Wulfrik bid farewell to sword instructor Leo and headed to the castle's eastern stables.
The air was filled with the scent of hay and the distinctive smell of horses, while crisp hoofbeats echoed in the distance.
"Wulfrik!"
Glenn, the riding master over sixty years old, waved to him.
Behind the old man stood a jet-black horse, like solidified night in the sunset's glow.
"This is the foal I just brought from the royal capital, a purebred Ulan horse named Night Shadow."
Glenn stroked the foal's mane, introducing it to Wulfrik: "It has excellent speed and endurance. I believe it will become your good companion."
Ulan horses came from the Ulan Tribe, one of the five dominant tribes on Dos Grasslands, hence their name.
Ulan horses were renowned for their speed and endurance. An adult Ulan horse could reach sixty kilometers per hour at full gallop.
Ordinary warhorses could only reach thirty to forty kilometers per hour.
Therefore, Ulan horses had always been among the representatives of fine warhorses on Aethervancia Continent.
Moreover, this was a purebred Ulan horse.
If this horse were put on the market, it would be worth at least two thousand gold coins.
Wulfrik approached Night Shadow and gently extended his hand. Night Shadow seemed to sense his goodwill and docilely nuzzled his hand with its nose.
A warm feeling surged in Wulfrik's heart. He knew this wasn't just a horse, but an indispensable battle companion for his future on the battlefield.
"Thank you, Teacher Glenn."
Wulfrik gently patted Night Shadow's back, his eyes full of affection and anticipation.
He decided to personally saddle Night Shadow and experience riding it for the first time.
Under Wulfrik's skilled movements, Night Shadow was soon outfitted, looking even more majestic.
Mounting the horse, Wulfrik took a deep breath, feeling the solid strength from Night Shadow's back.
As he gently squeezed with his legs, Night Shadow seemed to understand its master's intention, breaking into a trot, then gradually accelerating, galloping freely around the training ground.
Wulfrik and Night Shadow seemed to establish a wonderful understanding, with every turn and acceleration perfectly timed.
"Wulfrik, your coordination with Night Shadow is absolutely seamless."
Glenn praised from the side, his eyes full of satisfaction.
He knew that an excellent knight needed not only superb riding skills, but more importantly, had to establish a deep emotional connection with their mount, and Wulfrik had clearly achieved this.
...
When dusk completely enveloped Argentum Eagle Castle, Wulfrik reluctantly left the stables.
Hundreds of bronze oil lamps had been lit inside the castle, illuminating the corridors like daylight.
The dinner bell echoed off the stone walls, reminding family members that it was time for the evening meal.
At dinner, Wulfrik saw his father Duke Frederick again, along with his two younger brothers—Cashel Sowerbright and Albert Sowerbright.
Cashel had just turned ten, with an introverted personality, always sitting quietly to the side, his eyes carrying a hint of premature thoughtfulness.
Albert was only five, lively and active, curious about everything on the table.
Wulfrik's mother had died from hemorrhaging during Albert's difficult birth.
Whether due to deep feelings for Wulfrik's mother or other reasons, Duke Frederick had never remarried since then.
This was quite unusual among the noble class.
Even the most minor baron typically kept several concubines in his mansion, not to mention those dissolute nobles who kept mistresses in various locations.
But Duke Frederick had remained alone for five years, with even his personal maids being old nannies over fifty.
Wulfrik also had an older sister named Jelena, who had married the eldest son of Marquis Dias last year.
Now at the main table, only the four of them remained, making it seem particularly lonely.