Seven followed the old man back to the village.
The trek alongside the river took half an hour, because the old man decided to halt mid-way and hauled three more catfish despite the violent current— "for dinner," he said.
He then trudged the uphill path back to the manor.
Step, step.
But the path was a spiteful mistress!
Even when the snow had been shoveled off by the knights, he still slid five steps back down, a thin sheen of snow remained that made the path even more slippery.
"Damn it. If Sisyphus rolled a boulder up the hill, though he never made it to the top, this much should be nothing."
Quaa, quaa!
A squirrel that was perched atop the pine branch covered its mouth with paws and let out a stifled laugh.
Seven looked at the squirrel dead in the eye and gave a middle finger.
Step!
He stamped his boots with exaggerated force, forcing his way upward step by step. After about twenty minutes, the manor was finally within his line of sight.
At the gate, Eden stood before the vice commander, her dress fluttering when she turned around to depart but she paused the moment she spotted him.
"You're late, youngest. By the looks of it, you certainly took the most scenic route back."
'And whose fault is that, huh?!'
Seven kept his expression neutral and his mouth shut, hiding his inner thoughts.
"I simply took my time to appreciate the other gift you have prepared, oldest sister."
"Hm. I am not following. I don't recall preparing more than one present."
Eden tilted her head, her gaze perspicacious.
"That old man fishing by the river? I mean, I learned a lot from him."
"The old man…?"
"Yes."
Seven watched her eyes closely, fully believing he may be able to solve the pieces if Eden gave a reaction, but there was none of what he had expected.
Eden's gaze remained settled on his.
Thus, he frowned. He was truly certain someone of Eden's caliber could not possible fail to notice the zi signature of the old man down there, unless it was a choreographed charade, the old man being a stage above her, or just a staggering coincidence.
Eden tilted her head.
"I still fail to see how I am related to this old man you speak of, but do tell me, youngest, what exactly have you learned from him?"
Seven nodded, giving her a curated version of the truth, also noted how he could've succeeded in infusing zi to the rod if the old man didn't stop him.
'It was a strange sensation, as if static electricity suddenly prickled my skin and forced every hair on my body to stand on their ends.'
Still, he kept his act up, careful to omit the most important detail: his deal with the old man regarding the questions.
Eden didn't question further and simply listened actively as her little brother told a story, and gave back side responses.
"Hm. Thinking back, Clauve did manage to achieve infusion three days after forming his first ring. Your other siblings are also talented, but to expect it of yourself within an hour of forming a ring is a bit… ambitious."
She didn't mention herself.
To put it again, Eden already had a ring formed the moment she was born thus her later progress were more instinctual as breathing.
Seven rubbed the back of his head, exchanging more topics until they returned to that of fishing.
"Ah. Speaking of, those skewered catfish were nothing but delicious, oldest sister. If you are not busy, would you want to go fishing sometime too?"
"Should we?"
"Yes."
"But before that, you should better utilize the present I gave you first, and do well in your ceremony. Once you do, this sister of yours promises to go fishing with you."
"Is that true?"
"And as unfortunate as it may, father has passed an order. I will be handling urgent matters on another continent."
"That means—"
"But if luck sides with me, I suppose that matter should only last for three months at most."
"..."
Seven went silent.
Three months. He would have to survive the Ceremony, the internal politics, and his own growth without his cheat and strongest shield.
Eden's gaze softened, then held out her pinky finger.
Seven realized the meaning of her words, implying that she wouldn't be attending the ceremony.
"Do not be saddened, youngest. I promise to bring you another present, and it would be the best souvenir I could find."
Seven smiled, then hooked his pinky finger on hers.
The thing is, Eden had already helped him in a lot of ways he couldn't have imagined, fully knowing that relying on her more than this would do nothing better.
"Have a safe trip, oldest sister."
- – – 7 7 7 – – -
19th day of Bruma, Year 769.
Five days had passed.
Seven stood at the window, staring out at the white snowy landscape.
He had not returned to the river to fish with that old man, despite his earlier expectations.
Iria had forbid him from doing so, claiming it was far too dangerous given the thickness of the snow.
Truth be told, even the security of the manor had relaxed yet again, the knights were now too busy trading their patrol duties for shovels to clear the yard.
"For some reason, this tea's bitterness has only increased. Did Iria really observe how that apothecary old woman was doing it, or is she just doing this on purpose?"
Seven sighed and poured the herbal tea out. It was a ritual he had perfected since arriving in this world.
Trickle—
Looking down at the window box, he noted the plants were no longer just wilted. They had practically vanished like roots themselves retreated deeper into the soil to escape the taste.
Crackle!
A spark of zi flickered on his wrist, dancing down to his fingertips.
He had holed himself up yet again in the manor, spending his hours practicing how to infuse his essence into inanimate objects, using the memory of the old man's fishing rod as a blueprint.
For five days, the recalcitrant energy had snapped back the moment it touched anything he held, as close as the last attempt he had back it the river.
Or at least, until now.
Crackle, crackle—!
The zi flowed steadily into the porcelain, though it was more of a braid than that of a thread, spreading across the body of the cup.
It wasn't perfectly stable, humming with a volatile tension, but it was his big progress in doing so.
"Heh. I really am a genius…"
Seven couldn't help the smirk.
It had only taken him six days, counting the encounter at the river, while others had spent a year or more as ascendants but are yet able to perform the infusion.
Of course, Eden's voice echoed in the back of his mind, reminding him that aside from her, his older siblings had done it faster than him.
Knock, knock.
Iria knocked before stepping inside.
"I have come to collect the breakfast utensils, my lo—"
She stopped mid-sentence, her gaze dropping to Seven's hand, specifically at the porcelain cup that had succumbed to the pressure of the zi.
It sat in a dozen jagged pieces on the floor, leaving Seven holding nothing but the detached handle.
Seven awkwardly held out the handle.
"I didn't mean to…"
"It is nothing, my lord. There are plenty of cups in the kitchen. It is no great loss."
Iria sighed, stepping forward to retrieve the broken pieces and checked his hands for potential cuts. Finding none, she straightened her apron and took the handle on his hands.
"I shall take my leave now, my lord. Please take a bath before entering the library."
"Aight."
Iria then turned around and left, carrying the tray with her.
The door closed shut.
Seven walked to the calendar and scribbled X repeatedly over the date today.
He then stretched his limbs, his muscles tight from days of restricted movement, and grabbed the wooden sword leaning against the bedside.
The room was spacious (nobility certainly had its perks), providing just enough space to move around.
Truth is, for the past five days, he had spent the morning alternating between the intermediate manuals of sword flow techniques and the storybook.
"I bet Heinrich would be shocked to see my progress."
Seven liked doing things alone, after all. He could learn faster by using his ability to memorize effectively, one of the perks of being a reader.
But still, all lf these would not be possible if he had not learned the basics from the vice commander since they were the foundation of the succeeding movements.
"This is infuriating. Learning the Hart swordsmanship is a hundred times better than all of these, but that is only allowed after the ceremony. Fudge."
Fwoosh!
By the time the afternoon sun hit the frost on the windows, he was ready for a change of pace.
He wore his usual attire; black trousers and a white long sleeve polo.
It was the only look the original Seven Hart seemingly owned, and he cursed 'him' for the lack of variety every time he got dressed.
He let out a long yawn, cracking his neck.
"Time to hit the library until the sun sets, I guess."