Early the next morning, Flamme woke with a sudden start after staying up all night immersed in hero adventure stories.
Bright daylight already washed through the window, and the Staufrahn were long since chirping in the courtyard.
“Oh no! I have lessons today!”
She threw off the blanket and scrambled into her coat, still fighting with her cuffs as she sprinted toward the door.
Halfway there, she skidded to a halt, turned back, and shoved The Dragon Chronicles under her pillow, making sure the cover was completely hidden.
Her teacher had been right—this book was truly of no help to her studies.
She had intended to read only a single chapter last night.
Still, an adventurer’s life was undeniably captivating.
Having never experienced an adventure herself, Flamme idealized the path in her heart, yearning for it more and more.
“Right now, though, class is more important,” she murmured.
After a quick wash, she ran through the main hall, rounded the corner of the staircase, and pushed open the heavy wooden door to the castle’s rear yard.
The rear yard was far more expansive than the front.
A wide lawn stretched toward distant high walls, the grass growing past her knees and swaying under the wind like rolling green tides.
At the center of the lawn stood towering trees that cast vast, cool shadows.
Perched on every extending branch were Staufrahn, sitting so quietly they looked like rows of ellipsis dots.
Flamme found it strange—birds were meant to be free, so why did they refuse to fly over the castle walls?
“Why didn’t my alarm go off recently? Late again,” Link muttered quietly to himself, standing around the corner of the porch.
He peeked carefully through the gap in the door and saw Flamme staring absently at the giant trees.
Just as he prepared to sneak past, his apprentice caught the subtle fluctuation of his mana before he could even take a full step.
“Good morning, Master.”
“I have been standing here for quite some time,” Link cleared his throat, placed his hands behind his back, and strode out into the yard.
“I was simply waiting for you to notice me.”
“My mana detection is still lacking,” Flamme lowered her gaze.
“I’ll train harder.”
“There’s no rush for that one just yet.”
Link had already chosen a proper teacher to instruct Flamme in mana detection.
“What we are going to learn today is mana suppression.”
Flamme raised her head, perplexed.
She meditated and practiced magic diligently every day to accumulate mana—how was suppressing it any different from betraying her own hard work?
“Most magic practitioners are incredibly arrogant,” Link said casually.
“They want nothing more than for the whole continent to know how vast their mana reserves are.”
“If you truly intend to use magic in real combat, then your mana is your weapon.”
“You haven’t been training for long. Facing opponents who have trained for centuries or even millennia, defeating them head-on will be nearly impossible.”
“So hide your weapon. Let them underestimate you, let them believe you are nothing special—and then, when they are at their most relaxed, take their lives and win the battle.”
Flamme listened quietly without interrupting.
“Flamme, I want you to win every war you fight.”
“Understood, Master,” Flamme nodded without asking further questions.
This was her master’s hard-earned dragon wisdom, and she had no reason to doubt it.
That single phrase—”win every war you fight”—planted itself deep inside her heart like a seed, engraved in her memory.
Clap!
Clap!
Link clapped his hands lightly.
The moment the sound echoed out, over a dozen Staufrahn instantly landed around the two of them.
Launching at supersonic speeds right off the bat—these birds were remarkably sneaky.
“These little guys don’t possess mana of their own, but they are extremely sensitive to it,” Link explained.
“You need to suppress your mana in their presence until they completely ignore you.”
“However, as you can see,” Link added in a casual tone, “they are very fast. You’re likely to get hurt during this process.”
Once he made sure Flamme was paying attention, he continued, “Remember, this is your own battle. Don’t expect me to step in and help you.”
With that, Link turned around and walked back into the castle.
He didn’t hesitate for a single second, looking as though he truly intended to leave her out there all alone.
Standing amid the quiet flock of Staufrahn, Flamme’s breathing gradually evened out.
She closed her eyes and began trying to push the mana inside her down, layer by layer.
Yet the moment she mobilized even a sliver of mana, a sharp rushing sound exploded in her ears.
Before she could even identify the direction, a Staufrahn launched like a missile.
The sheer draft it kicked up tore through her clothes and slashed her arms.
“Ngh—”
She reflexively bit her lip, holding back a cry.
Who knew these Staufrahn were such bullies, tailoring their behavior to whoever stood before them?
They never dared to act like this in front of her master!
What wicked birds, she noted mentally.
Unlike his suffering apprentice, Link was not practicing mana suppression.
Magic was built on visualization, and suppressing mana was no exception.
Suppressing mana felt too much like constantly performing Kegel exercises, and Link simply could not bring himself to visualize doing that continuously.
That would be way too weird!
Even so, he had never paused his general magic training.
Link knew full well that, in his current state, he didn’t even have the right to touch top-tier magic, let alone research the Magic to Resurrect the Dead.
Meanwhile, in the rear yard, seeing that Link had not reappeared, the Staufrahn grew even more brazen in picking on Flamme.
At ten years old, Flamme had yet to fully transition into the mindset of a true mage.
Under the relentless pecking and swooping of the flock, she finally couldn’t hold it in any longer.
A soft sob broke from her throat, sounding like an alarm bell.
The flock of Staufrahn had no idea they had just provoked the one person in the courtyard they shouldn’t have.
“Whose kettle just went off?”
Link, who had been meditating, woke with a start, feeling an immediate sense of impending disaster.
“Unhand my apprentice!”
Link descended from the sky, sending the flock scattering in panic.
A few birds instinctively darted toward the sky, only to crash headfirst into an invisible barrier high above.
A faint blue mana net flashed briefly against the night sky before bouncing them back down.
As it turned out, a barrier enveloped the entirety of the castle.
Link casually scooped up a few of the dizzy, stunned Staufrahn and held them up.
“Flamme.”
He raised the birds in his hand.
“Heat up the oil and fire up the stove. Today’s training is officially over.”
As night fell, Link took over dinner duty as chef.
Before long, the savory aroma of meat wafted through the entire castle.
Flamme held her bowl, hesitating.
She glanced down at the steaming meat soup in her bowl, then looked up at Link sitting across from her.
A battle raged in her heart—Staufrahn were so cute, how could anyone eat them?
Then she recalled everything they had put her through today, and with puffed cheeks, she angrily took a massive bite.
After chewing just twice, her eyes lit up instantly.
“So delicious!”
No human could ever escape the ultimate law of delicious food.
Flamme ate with a look of pure satisfaction, all the pain from her injuries completely forgotten.