Volume 1: The Fourth Holy Grail War
Chapter 10: Under the One-Eyed Sage
The first lesson Odin taught them…
Was not how to wield a weapon.
Nor how to cast magecraft.
Instead—
It was how to sit in silence.
Ren frowned as he sat cross-legged beneath the massive oak tree outside the cabin.
Across from him, Morgan remained perfectly still with her eyes closed.
Odin, meanwhile, leisurely sipped from a wooden cup.
Minutes passed.
Then an hour.
Neither child spoke.
Finally…
Ren broke the silence.
“…Master.”
Odin raised an eyebrow.
“Yes?”
“My legs are numb.”
Morgan couldn’t help letting out a small laugh.
Odin simply smiled.
“Good.”
“…Good?”
“If your body complains before your mind does…”
“You’ve already lost.”
Ren sighed.
“…I don’t understand.”
“You will.”
Odin stood and walked toward the great oak.
Placing a weathered hand against its trunk, he spoke quietly.
“Power begins with understanding.”
“And understanding begins…”
“…with patience.”
The First Two Years
The seasons came and went.
Spring flowers bloomed.
Summer rains nourished the forest.
Autumn painted the leaves gold.
Winter blanketed Fairy Britain in white.
Two years passed almost unnoticed.
During those two years…
Neither Ren nor Morgan touched a real weapon.
Instead, every day followed the same routine.
Before sunrise…
Meditation.
After breakfast…
Ancient languages.
Before noon…
History.
After lunch…
Runes.
Evening…
Meditation once more.
Ren had expected magic.
Instead…
He found books.
Hundreds of them.
One evening, after copying the same rune for nearly three hundredth time, Ren finally groaned.
“…Master.”
“Hm?”
“…I’ve written this rune so many times I can draw it in my sleep.”
Odin looked up from his own book.
“And?”
“…When do I learn to actually use it?”
The old man chuckled.
“When you stop asking that question.”
“…”
Morgan covered her mouth, trying not to laugh.
Ren shot her a defeated look.
She simply smiled.
“…I told you he’d say something like that.”
One afternoon…
Odin drew a single rune into the dirt.
ᚠ
“What do you see?”
Morgan answered first.
“Fehu.”
“The rune of wealth.”
Odin nodded.
“And you?”
Ren studied it carefully.
“…Potential.”
The old man smiled.
“Explain.”
“If wealth can be exchanged…”
“It represents value.”
“If it represents value…”
“It can become energy.”
“If it becomes energy…”
“It doesn’t have to remain gold.”
Silence.
Then…
Odin laughed.
A deep, satisfied laugh.
“Excellent.”
He looked toward Morgan.
“And what did you learn?”
Morgan thought for a moment before answering.
“…That a rune doesn’t have only one meaning.”
“Exactly.”
Odin erased the symbol with his foot.
“The greatest mistake made by magi…”
“…is believing a rune has a single purpose.”
“Everything possesses countless meanings.”
“The one who understands that…”
“…understands runes.”
Years Three to Five
Life changed.
The books remained.
But now…
Their hands finally began to move.
Rune carving.
Runic enchantment.
Inscribing wood.
Stone.
Steel.
Even water.
The first successful rune took Ren nearly three weeks.
The second…
Only four days.
The third…
Half a day.
Failure became success.
Success became instinct.
One afternoon—
Boom!
A small explosion echoed across the clearing.
Morgan lowered her smoking wooden tablet with an awkward smile.
“…I may have made a mistake.”
Ren looked at the blackened remains.
“…May have?”
She glared at him.
“…Don’t laugh.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were thinking about it.”
“…Maybe.”
She lightly smacked his shoulder.
The two burst into laughter.
Odin watched from his chair.
A faint smile appeared beneath his beard.
Good.
They still laughed.
Many students forgot how.
Weapon Training
Once the foundations had been laid…
Odin finally brought them to the clearing behind the cabin.
Two wooden spears rested against an old tree.
Alongside them…
Two practice swords.
Morgan instinctively reached for the sword.
Ren picked up the spear.
Odin nodded.
“Interesting.”
Neither child had hesitated.
Perhaps…
Some choices were made long before they were ever realized.
“Very well.”
He picked up a simple wooden branch.
“Come.”
The next moment—
Bang!
Ren was thrown onto his back.
“…Again.”
Bang!
Morgan stumbled backwards.
“…Again.”
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
No matter what they tried…
Neither could touch Odin.
Days became weeks.
Weeks became months.
Months became years.
Every defeat became another lesson.
Every mistake was corrected.
Every success earned only a single nod.
Nothing more.
Years Six to Eight
The children had become young adults.
Ren had grown considerably taller.
Though still younger than Morgan…
The difference had become much less noticeable.
Morgan’s silver hair now reached her waist.
Her graceful movements reflected countless hours of training.
Ren’s once youthful frame had become lean and well-built.
Years of wielding spears and enduring Odin’s relentless lessons had forged his body into that of a true warrior.
One afternoon…
Odin tossed a piece of chalk toward Ren.
“Catch.”
Ren caught it effortlessly.
“Good.” This story is hosted at novelping.com.
“Now.”
“Write a rune.”
Without looking.
Without thinking.
Ren drew three runes across empty air.
For an instant…
Golden light appeared before fading.
Odin nodded.
“No incantation.”
“No hesitation.”
“The rune exists because you understand it.”
“Not because you memorized it.”
Ren slowly lowered his hand.
“…I’ve finally reached that point.”
“You’ve reached the beginning.”
Odin corrected calmly.
“The path ahead remains far longer.”
Morgan smiled from nearby.
“…He’s right.”
“You still lose every spar.”
Ren looked at her.
“…You’re enjoying this too much.”
Morgan laughed.
“I’ve waited years to say that.”
“…Big Sister.”
She folded her arms proudly.
“As you should.”
The simple title had never disappeared.
Even after all these years.
Morgan had truly become the older sister Ren never had.
She encouraged him.
Scolded him.
Protected him when necessary.
And just as often…
Relied on him in return.
They had become family.
Not by blood.
But by the years they had shared.
The Ninth Year
Rain fell gently over the forest.
Ren stood alone in the clearing.
A wooden spear rested in his hands.
Across from him…
Odin.
“…One strike.”
The old man smiled.
“If you can.”
Ren inhaled slowly.
No runes.
No tricks.
Only instinct.
The forest became silent.
Then—
He moved.
The spear flowed like a river.
Its path shifted halfway through the thrust before changing once more.
A movement that should have been impossible.
Odin’s lone visible eye narrowed slightly.
Interesting.
At the final instant—
Tap.
The tip of the spear brushed against the sleeve of Odin’s robe.
Silence.
Rain continued to fall.
Ren blinked.
“…Did I…”
Odin slowly looked at the small mark left upon his sleeve.
Then…
He laughed.
A loud, hearty laugh that echoed throughout the entire forest.
“Hahaha!”
“Nine years!”
“It took you nine years!”
“But at last…”
“…You finally touched me.”
Morgan stared in disbelief before breaking into laughter herself.
“I actually thought he’d never manage it.”
Ren let out a long breath before collapsing onto the wet grass.
“…I’m never doing that again.”
“You will tomorrow.”
Odin answered immediately.
“…I knew you were going to say that.”
The three shared a rare laugh together.
As the rain continued to fall, Odin quietly looked at the two disciples before him.
The frightened children who had once stumbled into his forest…
Were gone.
In their place stood a capable young man and a remarkable young woman.
Neither had reached their full potential.
Not yet.
But the foundations had been laid.
And Odin knew…
The day was drawing near when his teachings alone would no longer be enough.
Their journey beyond this forest…
Beyond Fairy Britain…
Was approaching.
End of Chapter 10