Elder Fürtwald leaned back with a pleased breath. "An eight-year-old seeing through that… rare."
The noble beside him let out a short laugh. "Halbrecht sent a sharp one. Most grown men fall for that trick."
Riven's jaw tightened. Luis scratched his cheek, trying to hide his frustration.
"How did he even guess that?" Luis whispered.
Riven muttered, "Probably luck."
Lucian stayed silent and looked at Fürtwald. "What's the reward?"
The elder tapped his cane. "I will tell you tomorrow. Consider it something worth waiting for."
He stood, nodded at the noble, and walked away with steady steps.
The noble watched him go before turning back to the boys. "Well then. Let us continue."
He resumed explaining the products—how the milk was processed, why the fabrics were rare, and how everything connected to the First Heir's needs.
Riven listened with crossed arms. Luis kept glancing at Lucian. Lucian focused on the noble's explanations, storing every detail.
When they finally stepped outside, Riven bumped Lucian's shoulder. "You acted smart back there."
Luis added, "You think you're special now?"
Lucian didn't answer. He only walked ahead of them.
The two boys kept arguing, but he ignored their voices as the capital's noise swallowed them.
They returned to Meranne Estate at dusk. The carriage wheels slowed on the gravel road, and all three boys climbed down with heavy legs.
Steward Halbrecht waited by the entrance, arms crossed.
Riven handed over the sealed milk containers. Luis showed the wrapped clothes. Lucian explained the visit with the contractor and how Elder Fürtwald appeared.
Halbrecht nodded. "Good. No mistakes. Go rest."
They walked back to the servant dorm, dragging their feet. Once inside, Riven flopped onto his bunk.
"That old man was something," he said. "Did you see his eyes?"
Luis laughed weakly. "And the noble… he talked so much I almost fell asleep."
They kept talking about the capital—the wide streets, the fancy shops, the knights they saw patrolling. Riven acted out how the noble spoke, and Luis snorted at every imitation.
Lucian listened for a while, sitting on his bed. His body felt like stone. When the room finally settled, he looked at both of them.
"Sleep early," he said. "We still have things to do tomorrow."
Riven wanted to argue, but a long yawn cut him off.
Luis pulled his blanket up. "Fine. Tomorrow."
Lucian lay down last. The candles dimmed, and the room went quiet.
His body was tired, but his mind wouldn't rest.
He thought of Riven and Luis—these were his friends, or at least they had been in this life before he arrived in Lucian Draemer's body.
They don't know what I know… what I've lived… he thought. But they are still… important.
And then his mind drifted back to the reward Elder Fürtwald had promised. What could it be? Something worth noticing him?
He frowned slightly, curious, but he pushed it aside. There were more important things to consider.
He finally closed his eyes, letting the exhaustion pull him under. Sleep came heavy and deep.
Morning arrived faster than expected.
The sun barely reached over the horizon, but the servants were already awake.
Lucian rose, quickly dressed, and began his long list of tasks: cleaning the hallways, preparing breakfast for the household, carrying water to the stables, and sorting the laundry.
Every movement was precise, calculated, as he tried to preserve energy and observe everything around him.
After chores, he was assigned to watch the knights sparring in the courtyard. Their movements were sharp, disciplined, and swift.
He studied them carefully, noticing the timing of their swings, how their armor slowed them in certain motions, and the coordination between pairs.
This could be useful later… if I ever need to deal with anyone like this.
As he observed, a shadow fell over the courtyard. He looked up and saw Elder Fürtwald standing at the edge of the training ground.
Lucian froze for a moment.
The elder's eyes scanned the area and then stopped on him. There was a faint smile, a glint of recognition. Lucian's heart thumped slightly. He finally sees me…
For a moment, the world seemed to pause.
The sparring knights continued, the clanging of swords ringing in the air, but all Lucian could focus on was the sharp gaze of the elder studying him.
Lucian's eyes widened slightly as Elder Fürtwald stepped closer. "Sir… the reward," he said carefully.
"What is it?"
The elder smiled faintly. "Patience, Lucian. The reward is not gold or food. It is… something far greater."
"The chance to gain a Principle."
Lucian froze. A Principle. That word carried power, authority, a way to influence the world. Something he had never possessed.
"There are two ways to gain one," the elder explained. "One is to be born with it. The other… is to be gifted by a divine creature. Rare, and not easily achieved."
Lucian listened, cautious. His mind raced. And I have neither.
The elder's eyes glinted. "But there is another way, that's more… dangerous. Not many dare attempt it."
He reached into the folds of his robe and pulled out a scroll, carefully untying the ribbon that held it closed.
"By reading this scroll and following its instructions, you may awaken a Principle within yourself. But be warned… the cost can be great."
Lucian hesitated. Skepticism pinched at him. A scroll? And I just… gain a Principle? It sounds too easy. Or maybe a trap.
Elder Fürtwald chuckled at his hesitation. "I would not offer it if I did not believe you could succeed. If you do unlock your own Principle, I will personally enroll you as a student at the same academy the First Heir attends. You will see him. You will learn. You will have a chance to influence the kingdom."
Lucian blinked, his heart hammering in his chest. The weight of possibility pressed on him, but so did a strange thrill. I could do this… I could finally have a power of my own… something real…
His lips curved into a rare, childish smile.
Then, without warning, he leapt to his feet. "I'll do it! I'll do it now!"
Riven and Luis stared as Lucian's excitement grew. He spun in a circle, kicked his feet in the air, and laughed out loud.
"Lucian…?" Riven started, but Lucian was already running down the path of the courtyard, acting like a child who had just discovered a new game.
His small legs carried him quickly, his voice echoing with joy and anticipation.
Elder Fürtwald's lips curved into a small smile. "Yes… let him run. Let him feel what it is to chase his own destiny."
The scroll in Lucian's hands felt heavier now, but in a good way. He ran toward it with a grin, completely unrestrained.
Lucian spent every spare moment staring at that scroll.
Early mornings, late nights, and even breaks between chores. He hid behind crates, sat under trees, or stayed awake while the other boys snored loudly in their beds.
The words on the scroll were simple, but the meaning behind them felt twisted. They bent around his thoughts. They slipped away whenever he tried to understand them.
Hours turned into days. Days dragged into weeks.
By the first month, he could recite every line, but he still understood nothing.
By the second month, he started muttering the passages in his sleep.
By the third, he felt as if the scroll was mocking him.
He sat behind the dormitory that evening, the parchment open on his lap. .
He rubbed his face and whispered, "It makes no sense."
He read the same paragraph again, and again. The symbols didn't change. They didn't click. They didn't open anything inside him.
Finally, he shut the scroll with a sharp slap.
"It's impossible."
He leaned back against the wall and let out a slow breath.
"This is a scam."
Lucian stared at the darkening sky, feeling something heavy settle inside his chest.
Maybe a lowborn without a Principle stays a lowborn, he thought.
But even then… he didn't close the scroll completely. His fingers stayed on it.
Almost like he wasn't ready to give up.