Randall studied him for a moment, then gave a faint smile. "That's good. With such a body, it's a waste not to fight for glory."
Ethan smiled back. There was something else he had been curious about. "Sir, what's your aptitude?"
Randall's expression changed slightly. "I'm just a mere F rank. In fact, most of the talented people in the estate are at F rank except the Lord, who had an E rank aptitude."
"You didn't check my aptitude. I'm afraid.."
"We didn't need to," Randall interrupted. "With the Lady having F rank aptitude, we had a potion. That way, the child she gives birth to will surely be F rank."
In fact,there was another reason.
It might be hard for them to accept that Ethan might be without any aptitude that might affect their mindset so it's better to not know then know about it
Ethan frowned. "Is it certain? If both parents are F rank, will the child always be the same?"
Randall gave a short nod. "Yes. As long as the parents have a certain potential, their child will be born with one. A higher aptitude might produce a lower one, but it will never be without aptitude. Enough talk now. Let's start with the basics."
And just like that, Ethan stepped into another kind of hell.
...…
The training was not what he had imagined. It wasn't about swinging a sword or practicing flashy moves. Randall strapped heavy weights to his arms, legs, and torso until it felt like his body was sinking into the ground.
The sun was high, and the heat pressed down on him like a smothering blanket. Sweat poured from his skin, soaking his clothes.
"Ugh… Can't I just get a sword manual to practice? What's with all this?" Ethan groaned, his voice heavy with frustration.
Randall didn't even look at him. "Boy, you are miles away from practicing swordsmanship. You need to strengthen your body first."
Ethan gritted his teeth. What could he say? He couldn't exactly tell Randall that he had reached the Novice Knight stage with the help of the system. That secret could never be revealed.
So, he bit his lip and kept moving, step after step, pushing through the weight dragging him down. Every muscle in his body screamed. His lungs burned from the heat and exertion. His hands trembled from the constant strain.
The regime was merciless. Hours of running with weights under the blazing sun, push-ups until his arms refused to move, squats that left his legs numb, and holding stances for so long his body felt like it might break in half. Every time he thought it was over, Randall would bark out another order.
Ethan cursed under his breath, his vision blurring from exhaustion. His clothes clung to him, heavy with sweat. His shoulders ached as if someone had driven nails into them.
But he kept going.
"Pain is temporary," he told himself, forcing his legs to keep moving. "Grinding is eternal."
It became a silent chant in his mind, a lifeline to cling to as he endured the endless cycle of pain and effort.
By the time Randall finally called for a break, Ethan's entire body felt like lead. His breathing was ragged, his throat dry. He had survived the first day, but he knew this was only the beginning.
…..
The training was exhausting,pushing his mind and body to absolute limits every day.
But Ethan found that his recovery was faster than before, but that didn't mean it was easy.
By day, he trained his body relentlessly under Randall's watch. By night… he was expected to train with his wife. Both kinds of training took a heavy toll on his stamina, yet he still made sure to care for her needs, never letting himself slack.
Sometimes, it felt more like torture than training. And then, one evening, an unsettling thought crossed his mind as he spotted other soldiers.
"What…the heck?"
Why in the world are those early-stage Novice knights able to finish the physical drills so easily while I'm struggling like this?
The answer, once he found it, made him curse out loud.
"System, are you scamming me? Did you give me fake strength?"
[Host, it's recommended to explore on your own.]
Grumbling, Ethan dug into the problem himself and finally realized the truth.
It wasn't that his strength was fake, but that he had no breathing technique to control his mana. Even as a Novice knight, without proper channeling and regulation, his efficiency was terrible.
"So it's because I lack breathing technique?" he muttered.
When he approached Randall for help, the man shook his head firmly.
"For breathing techniques, you need a solid foundation first. Trying it too soon will damage your base."
And that was the end of that. Left with no choice, Ethan returned to his usual routine.
One afternoon, he found Sophia in her study, bent over a desk piled high with ledgers and parchment. She was scribbling numbers with intense focus, her brow furrowed.
Ethan walked closer and glanced over her shoulder. It was just simple addition and subtraction, nothing complicated.
'Why is she taking so long?' he wondered.
But as he watched her work, the problem became clear.
Ah… they don't even know the carry-over method. No wonder it's so tedious.
"Do you need help?" he asked casually.
Sophia looked up, blinking in surprise. "You can do math? But I remember… you haven't even started formal studies yet."
"I know enough to handle this much," he replied.