It's been a week since John and Alex started training. During those days, they both pushed themselves to the limit. Now, they were able to reach the other side of the pool and back without either of them falling into the water. Even though it was a bit difficult, they both feel proud of their achievements.
In the arduous process of endless falls into the piranha-infested pool, both their dexterity and speed improved remarkably. John, in particular, felt that he could control his own body better.
An Iron Tail's senses naturally surpassed those of a human. His racial heritage brought him a body endowed with exceptional strength , heightened senses, and a remarkable elemental layer with earth and water. As he grew older, John became more aware of how distinct his body was. At first, he had thought that only his tail distinguished him from a normal human. But now... it was obvious: his vision pierced the darkness as if it were day, his hearing picked up the slightest vibrations in his surroundings, and even his sense of smell could discern scents and presences with animal-like precision. Even with his eyes closed, he could identify everything around him. It was as if every cell in his body had awakened.
During this intense week, Fernando and Catarina took turns supervising the training. On the last day, Catarina commented on how the two crossed the pool with ease and skill. She nodded, satisfied, and said:
— Boys , it's time to take a break.
As soon as they heard the order, Alex and John quickened their steps and returned quickly, jumping with precision. The piranhas, once hungry, were now restless — their meat toys were no longer falling into the water.
Woxim . Woxim .
With a quick leap, the two boys left the pool. One was a little over seven years old, the other looked between nine and ten. As soon as he set foot on the ground, John ran to Catarina and wrapped her in a strong hug, letting out a tired and somewhat sullen sigh:
— This training is getting really boring. When are we going to stop doing the same thing, day after day?
Alex didn't say a word, but he responded to John's complaints with a simple nod. For him, it was also necessary to repeat the same exercise, day after day.
Catarina gave the two a piercing look and let out a mischievous laugh.
— Very well… You forced my hands. Since you're bored, I want something new to do. And no complaints!
The two of them immediately looked at each other, reading the caution written on each other's faces. That didn't sound like good news.
Catarina stuck her staff into the ground and began to chant an incantation in the Baboan language . The wood in her hand glowed brightly, and in an instant, the entire pool shook.
Without warning, the edges began to expand. They expanded further… and further… until the pool was no more. In its place was a vast lake, wide and deep as if carved by a divine force. With another incantation, clumps of trees rose from the ground and magically rearranged themselves, forming an obstacle course far more complex than before—and this time, the platforms were farther apart.
But Catarina wasn't finished.
With a new spell, she removed all the piranhas from the lake. Then she spoke a string of arcane words as ancient as time. The water began to bubble… then boil… until it reached a hundred degrees Celsius. Steam rose into the sky in thick swirls, obscuring much of the view—but to someone with the senses of an Irontail, this was no obstacle.
Catarina then clearly explained the new objective.
— This course, unlike the previous one that strengthened body control and agility, was designed to test and improve speed. With the water boiling... well, if you don't want to turn into soup without legumes, you'll have to run very fast.
She spoke with cold seriousness. Although she was invested in her role as a trainer, her boredom was evident. After all, Catarina was an elemental mage, not a warlord. Preparing bodies for combat was not her thing—teaching magic was.
However, with a firm wave of his staff, he gave the silent order for the two to jump.
John and Alex jumped together onto the first wooden platform.
The moment John's feet touched the surface, he felt heat rise throughout his body. His throat went dry instantly. Sweat broke out in thick rivulets down his skin. As he inhaled, scalding air rushed through his nostrils, making him shiver.
— Play, play, play! — John's mental voice urged him into action.
He looked to the side and saw Alex already running. He didn't hesitate. He started running too, gradually increasing his pace. Each step required the maximum of his muscles, and the faster they ran, the faster their bodies lost strength.
The course was a hell of wood and steam. The two of them spun faster and faster, but the suffocating heat, fatigue and lack of air took their toll. John's vision blurred, his head throbbed. With each new step, his legs felt heavier.
After five exhausting laps, he jumped out of the lake, panting as if he had run for hours under the scorching sun.
Alex held on a little longer. Six more laps than John. But in the end he too fell to the side of the lake, breathing hard, his face red and his body collapsing.
The two lay side by side, their chests heaving. Sweat ran down their temples, dripping onto the warm wooden floor, as if each drop was the price of their persistence. John turned his face and met Alex's gaze. For a moment, they said nothing. They just stared at each other, exhausted, but smiling with their eyes. The complicity between them grew in silence.
John let out a muffled laugh, putting his hand to his chest. "I swear I heard my soul asking me to run away from here…" he murmured , staring into the sky.
Alex chuckled softly, running his hand through his sweat-soaked hair. "If you drop dead, I'm not carrying you to the infirmary. I'm already dragging myself along."
— Fair enough. — John nodded, closing his eyes for a moment.
Thirty minutes of rest, a silence punctuated only by the sound of the wind and heavy breathing. Then, as if driven by a silent promise, they stood up at the same time. They exchanged a brief wave, and in an almost choreographed gesture, they jumped back into the lake.
One.Two.Three.Four ...
Throughout the day, they repeated the route countless times. Their feet tore through the heat, their skin seemed to want to scream, but their bodies molded themselves to the pain. Resistance was replaced by skill. Slowness by speed. Suffering by results.
At every pause, a knowing look, a crooked smile, sometimes a pat on the shoulder. Friendly rivalry kept them steady. Whenever one fell to his knees, the other reached out a hand.
One day.Two.Three.Four ...
Over the weeks, the pace of training molded their bodies and forged their spirits. The temperature of the lake no longer frightened them as much. Their time spent in the water increased. Their recovery became faster. Their bodies burned, but their eyes shone with progress.
With each challenge, Alex clenched his fists in determination. John, on the other hand, kept his gaze fixed on the end of the course, his eyes sparkling like embers.
— I 'll catch up with you, Alex. — John said with a half smile.
— Only if you have wings, Iron Tail . — Alex replied , blinking at him, breathless but firm.
Throughout the month, Catarina remained like a watchful shadow. With elegant gestures, she transformed the course with simple but effective magic. Her always cold eyes assessed every movement, every fall, every victory.
September. The month of sweet warmth and golden winds. It was only a month until John's birthday.
Over time, the relationship between the two boys matured. John came to admire Alex—a young man with a simple, firm, and respectful soul. A boy driven by a burning desire to become a warrior. Without Fernando, this ambition would have been just a distant dream, for even though his father, Ceto, was a mid-level warrior, he was legally prevented from passing on the knowledge by a magical non-disclosure contract.
John respected that. More than that: he understood the weight of secrets.
Venhorst Castle
Standing tall in the heart of New Round, Venhorst Castle was a jewel of power and opulence, a rampart between grandeur and time. Its towers climbed the sky with the arrogance of gods, clad in polished stone of gleaming white, gleaming in the sun as if carved from solid moonlight.
The main gates, made of ebony carved with ancient runes and studded with enchanted sapphires, opened to reveal a courtyard where fountains danced in magical synchrony, and statues of legendary heroes stood silently watchful with expressions carved in vivid marble.
The windows were adorned with multicolored stained glass that told forgotten stories of the noble Venhorst line , and the interior halls were resplendent under dark blue crystal chandeliers suspended by chains of pure silver. Hand-embroidered carpets bore the coats of arms of the four houses that founded the city, and gilded columns inlaid with mother-of-pearl supported the soaring arches of the galleries.
Inside, the castle was filled with the scent of rare flowers picked from Empress Elana's hanging gardens, each hallway lit by magical crests that floated in the air, radiating a warm, comforting light.
It was a place where nobility didn't just live—they reigned, with beauty, power, and mystery. Venhorst Castle was no mere building: it was a symbol. A silent cry of dominance and splendor, echoing throughout the city like a promise of eternity.
In the vast dining room of Venhorst Castle , lit by magical chandeliers suspended in midair and with arched windows framing the night sky, John happily enjoyed his meal with his parents. The table was long, covered with a tablecloth embroidered with gold thread, and porcelain dishes gleamed in the warm, soft light.
John seemed more confident. His body was already moving with ease and precision. The intense training was beginning to show its fruits. Every gesture of his, every movement of the fork to his mouth, was a reflection of the skill he had acquired.
However, Fernando, sitting at the head of the table, was frowning. His eyes, although intent on the plate, seemed to wander through distant thoughts. In the last few days, he had been like this—worried, restless, reviewing documents, talking to messengers, and discreetly preparing to leave for the capital.
But one thing kept him from breathing a sigh of relief: John. He didn't want to leave without ensuring that his son had undergone his first evolution. That would make him safer—protected from the dangers that lurked for unprepared young nobles.
John rested his elbows on the table and looked at his father with anticipation on his face. "Dad... I wanted to take a walk around the territory tomorrow," he said , a glint of anticipation in his eyes.
Fernando looked up, showing no surprise. He had expected this. It was only a matter of time . Catarina also remained silent, but she looked away from John and looked at Fernando, her face calm, although her eyes—blue and intense—revealed a shadow of concern.
— I'll ask Ceto to go with you. — Fernando replied , calmly placing a piece of meat on the plate.
John grimaced slightly and leaned back in his chair. "Dad… I don't think it's a good idea to go with Ceto. I don't want to draw attention to myself. I just want to walk around a bit, get some fresh air, see the territory for myself. If I go with him, everyone will realize who I am."
John's tone was firm but respectful. He didn't want to go out like a young lord on parade. He wanted freedom, even if it was just for a few hours.
Fernando stared at him for a moment, thoughtful. He knew John was right. Ceto, although he served as a butler in the castle, was the family's official representative in the city. His presence next to John would draw too many glances.
Catarina kept her gaze fixed on Fernando. She hadn't said a word yet, but the tension in her jaw and the way she was clenching her fingers slightly indicated that she wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea.
"You can't walk around alone, John," Fernando said , his voice low and serious. "After all, you are the young lord. Take at least two discreet guards with you. That will put your mother at ease. And me too."
John took a deep breath, then smiled. "Don't worry, Mom, Dad. Alex will come with me. We'll both be discreet. No one will notice that we've left the castle."
Fernando thought for another second, and then nodded. "Okay. You can go with Alex. But don't leave the city. And under no circumstances are you going into the slums."
John smiled broadly.— Deal.
With his father's consent, the tension of the conversation dissipated. Catarina finally relaxed her shoulders, and Fernando leaned back slightly, a sign that he trusted — at least partially — in his son's prudence.
Dinner continued with light conversation, and shortly after, everyone stood up. John thanked them for the meal and left with quick steps, his mind already full of plans for the next day.
Night fell softly over the castle, shrouding its towers in a blanket of stars. In John's room, he stared up at the vaulted ceiling, his eyes shining with excitement. He couldn't wait for morning.
And so, a new day began to dawn, bringing promises of freedom and discoveries.
The next morning, the warm aroma of freshly baked bread and fresh fruit filled the breakfast room. John, dressed in light, casual clothes, was absently savoring a bowl of honeyed barley porridge as he watched the sunlight filter through the linen curtains.
Suddenly, one of the maids entered with silent steps. She bowed respectfully, her hands clasped in front of her neatly pressed apron, and announced in a soft voice:
— Young lord, Lord Alex wishes to see you.
John couldn't hide his excitement. His eyes lit up, and he immediately pushed the bowl aside. "Thank you. You can let him in," he said, already standing up in a hurry.
In the inner courtyard of the castle, the two met. When their eyes met, an involuntary smile appeared on both of their faces. As was customary between close friends, they extended their fists and lightly bumped them—a simple gesture, but one full of camaraderie.
— Alex. — John greeted , with a confident smile. — John. — Alex replied , returning the smile with equal enthusiasm.
The fist bump was more than an informal greeting—it was a silent symbol of mutual respect and trust, something that only existed between brothers in spirit.
— Are you ready to meet Novo Redondo? — Alex asked , raising an eyebrow with a provocative glint in his eyes. — Ready and presenting! — John replied , crossing his arms theatrically.
Alex looked around curiously. "And who will escort the royal party to the glorious roundabout? I don't see anyone armed around…"
John chuckled and leaned forward, as if sharing a forbidden secret. "My father allowed us to go alone. Just the two of us."
Alex's eyes widened a little, skeptical. "Really? That doesn't seem very... safe . You're the young lord, remember? How are we supposed to get around without attracting attention?"
John sighed and explained, in a mature tone: — Exactly for that reason. I want to see Novo Redondo with my own eyes, as an ordinary person. If people know who I am, they will treat me differently. And that... ruins everything.
Alex crossed his arms and nodded slowly. He understood his friend's desire—and deep down, he agreed.
— Okay. But at least wear something less... noble . That vest looks like it was made by sewing gods.
John laughed. "Fair enough."
A short while later, at the back of the castle, Alex handed John a set of simple clothes: worn linen pants, a gray tunic, and a rough-hewn hood. John dressed quickly, adjusting the hem of his shirt as Alex watched him with a half-smile.
"Now you do," Alex said. "You look like a true commoner. All that's missing is the dirt under your fingernails."
Laughing together, the two left through the castle's secondary gates. There was almost no movement in that part of the property. No guards stopped them—it was a strategic exit, used only by servants and transporters.
With a few copper coins in hand, they discreetly boarded a small carriage. The carriage, pulled by two dark-coated horses, shook lightly along the dirt tracks.
Luckily — or perhaps fate — the driver was heading to Novo Redondo.
Venhorst Castle stood far from the city center, nestled among silent hills where the wind danced through the tall trees. Ferdinand had always preferred the secluded peace of the countryside to the constant hubbub of the city.
Inside the carriage, John looked out the wooden windows with the attentive gaze of someone who had never really seen the land he would inherit. Every curve in the road, every cornfield and every stream visible through the trees aroused his intense curiosity. It was as if the world was finally revealing itself before his eyes.
Alex, sitting nearby, casually pointed to some geographical formations and villages in the distance, explaining with his simple but practical knowledge.
— That's the Old Mill… it's been closed for years. And on the other side, that hill? They say there are ruins of an ancient temple there. But no one has the courage to climb it.
John absorbed every word. And for the first time in a long time, he felt free.
Only partially familiar with his own territory, John leaned back slightly in the wooden seat of the carriage and looked up at the clear sky. The morning sun shone brightly, spreading a gentle warmth through the lazy white clouds. The wind blew gently, swaying the vegetation that lined the dirt road.
Although the distance to Novo Redondo wasn't exactly great, it would still take them about two hours to reach the city. Alex, who was watching the landscape through the small side window, broke the silence with a curious question:
— Alex… do you know how the territory works? — John turned to him a little, his brow slightly furrowed. — My father and mother never explained much to me. I only know the basics… and even that, I think is quite incomplete.
Alex crossed his arms and leaned forward, thoughtful. His dark eyes searched for words that were simple but not banal. He took a deep breath and began to speak in a calm, didactic tone:
— Your family's territory is vast. It measures approximately ninety-five thousand square miles, making it one of the largest in the southern continent. It is made up of natural barriers, high plateaus, and mountain ranges that surround much of the region. Various races and clans inhabit these lands…
John listened to him attentively, his gaze fixed and his expression curious. Alex noticed and continued:
— In the mountains to the south lives the Water Clan. They are human, but they have developed an absurd affinity with the element. The warriors there are called children of the river — they say they can talk to aquatic animals and even summon rain with prayers. They are respected, but isolated.
He paused briefly to see if John was following, and then continued:
— Now in the eastern mountains... live the barbarians. They are another story. Gigantic, savage, they almost never come down to the city. They don't use magic or enchantments. Only brute force. And believe me, it's real force. Some people say that a full-grown barbarian can knock down a tree with a headbutt.
John's eyes widened, not knowing whether to laugh or be impressed. "What about the forest?" he asked anxiously. "I heard there are monsters there..."
— Yes. — Alex nodded seriously. — To the north lies the Dark Forest. It is vast… almost unexplored. There live magical beasts, mutants, creatures that only experienced warriors or third-circle mages and above can face. It is forbidden to people like us. Only hunters with a license can enter.
John felt a slight chill run down his spine. It was hard to imagine all of that coexisting under the same territory.
— What about the smaller cities?
"There are many," Alex said. "Scattered between the farmland and the ore mines. They are controlled by minor nobles, with no lineage title but granted land. They pay annual tribute to your father, of course. Many of them help maintain order and manage the local resources."
The boy took a deep breath before continuing, his tone now more solemn:
— At the center of everything is Novo Redondo. It is the heart of the Venhorst territory . There are great markets, official events between nobles, and it is where the wealthiest merchants and some noble families live. All races and clans — even the most distant ones — pay their tributes at the castle of the lord of the territory. The lord's castle.
Alex then mentioned his father with a slight glint in his eye—a spark of admiration that escaped, even unintentionally.
— Your father, Lord Fernando, is the true ruler of all this. But he is rarely in the city. He likes the quiet, the training, the honing of his strength. He delegates the duties of castellan to Ceto, who acts as his right-hand man. When Fernando is away, it is Ceto who takes command with full authority.
John listened to everything with silent attention, as if each piece of information were a piece of a puzzle over which he had never had control . And for the first time, he began to see the true magnitude of what he would one day inherit.
The carriage moved forward at a steady pace, the wheels squeaking lightly on the gravel of the road. The vegetation around them became sparser as they approached the more populated areas.
During the journey, two people entered the carriage: a man and a woman, both human, apparently merchants or travelers. They sat in silence, exchanging no more than murmured greetings. They were not talkative, nor did they show any interest in the boys' conversation.
John and Alex continued to speak quietly, exchanging basic information, mental maps, and assumptions about the future. They kept their tone low—enough so as not to attract curious glances.
And so, with hearts full of expectation and eyes focused on the horizon, they approached the most important city in the entire Venhorst territory : Novo Redondo.
The trip was uneventful. The two hours passed quickly, filled with conversations about the territory and valuable information about Novo Redondo. John, attentive, absorbed every detail as if he were mentally constructing a map of the lands that would one day be under his full control.
When the city finally appeared in the distance, the sight was breathtaking.
Novo Redondo stood like a jewel surrounded by colossal walls made of gray stone and reinforced concrete. Each block of the wall seemed to have been precisely carved by master craftsmen, with perfect fits that defied time and erosion. In the distance, the sun's glow reflected off the polished carvings, as if the stones themselves carried remnants of ancient magic.
The main gate was a monumental cast-iron arch, adorned with symbols of House Venhorst and the Central Kingdom. Before it, an orderly line of travelers and merchants stretched out under the watchful eye of two guards.
The soldiers wore armor made of metal scales that gleamed in the morning light, and they held long, sharp-tipped spears, standing with the proud air of those guarding a valuable secret.
As soon as the carriage stopped in front of the gate, all the occupants got out. The guards' eyes turned to the group, quickly assessing them—from their footwear to the seams of their clothes. From John and Alex's simple and discreet attire, they deduced that they were, at most, the sons of wealthy merchants or noble students on a trip. Their hasty judgment ignited arrogance in the guards' gestures, who stepped forward with a smug smile and outstretched hands.
"Ten copper coins a head. Standard admission," one of them announced, his voice clipped and complacent.
John and Alex exchanged brief glances. Without saying a word, they each took out ten silver coins and calmly handed them to the guard. The gesture was as calm as it was provocative: the difference in value was striking , and the soldier's eyes widened for a brief second before regaining his composure.
The two passengers who had traveled with them—the man and the woman, still silent—also paid the standard fee, each handing over their ten copper coins, avoiding attracting attention.
In fact, neither John nor Alex had to pay anything at all to enter the city . John, as the heir to the lord of the territory, and Alex, as the son of the castellan, were above any ordinary bureaucracy. But John did not want to attract attention—not yet. He did not wish to announce his presence with banners or noisy retinues. And to Alex, the paltry sum of silver was not even worth complaining about.
With the small transaction concluded, the guards stepped aside and the gate was partially opened with a heavy creak. The interior of New Redondo finally revealed itself before them.
The smell of spices and smoke from furnaces filled the air. Vendors shouted their wares in street markets arranged in symmetrical rows. Children ran between stalls, and the sound of hammers echoed from nearby workshops. The buildings ranged from carved stone to dark wood, with red-tiled roofs and flags fluttering in the windows.
Everything was alive. Vibrant. Real.
And in that moment, passing through the entrance arch with his eyes wide open at the immensity of the city, John felt a pang in his chest — a mixture of pride, responsibility... and anticipation.
The world he would inherit was not just made of maps and titles. It was made of people, walls, markets, secrets and stories that still awaited him.