"So get this..." Hector excitedly told his tale. "Hayam recently started letting me ride him!"

"Seriously...?" Reivan's eyes went wide at the news. His own husky wasn't big enough for riding yet, and whenever Reivan tried to mount Fuyu, the beast would run off. Hearing that Hector's pup was big enough to mount was a big surprise.

Especially since Hayam and Reivan's Fuyu were brothers.

'I don't think I'm doing anything that differently... or is it just because Hector visits his husky more often?'

Fuyu was even more of an antisocial mutt than him, so Reivan had done what it wanted and only visited every few days. Hayam, on the other hand, would've lived with Hector at House Mercer's manor if it didn't have to stay in frigid climates most of the time.

Pop!

Reivan looked to the side, where Helen was zoning out while leaning on a tree and chewing gum. It was apparently a measure to keep her mouth busy so she doesn't stuff it with food when she's bored.

Seemingly having noticed his gaze, Helen tilted her head and held out her hand. "Want some gum?"

"Nah. I'm good." Reivan waved her off with a smile.

The twins' arrival was a welcome surprise. This way, Reivan didn't have to wait alone until whatever it was they were waiting for arrived — which ended up not being that long.

"Attention." Donovan's sharp voice suddenly broke through everyone's chatter, directly snaking into their minds. "Gather in the middle."

'I guess it's starting...'

Reivan pushed off from the tree he was resting his weight on and gave the twins a look. "Let's go. You don't wanna keep that guy waiting, believe me."

"Is he really that bad...?" Hector raised a brow as he moved to follow. "He seems nice, no?"

The prince almost tripped. He looked back and gazed at his friend like he'd never seen anyone so stupid before. "Get your eyes checked at a Sormon Temple after this, alright?"

"They're perfectly fine, though?"

"Believe me, they're not."

Hector rolled his eyes and strode forward, leaving them behind. And Reivan couldn't help but look at the boy as if he was a dead man.

"I'll stay quiet." Helen suddenly spoke from beside Reivan. "My gut says to do as you say."

'At least this one's gonna be fine...'

"Good girl." Reivan smiled and gave the top of Helen's head two soft pats. The girl had just undergone a growth spurt, however, so it was a bit awkward since he had to be on the tips of his toes.

Helen said nothing, but Reivan could tell from her expressionless face that she was pleased.

Donovan frequently made his impatience known by scowling with his arms crossed, but eventually, all of the children arranged themselves to form neat rows — with the taller kids standing further back. Of course, they also took liberties to stay close to their friends.

'Well, this is better for me too.'

Reivan benefited from this, so he didn't have anything to say about it. He tried to copy how everyone else stood and aligned his spot with theirs. But then he noticed something.

'We're getting stared at...'

Despite the tense situation, a few of the kids kept staring at Reivan and the twins — in particular, plenty of boys were sending furtive glances toward Helen, even if they had to frequently turn back.

'Heh. How's that? Our Helen is really pretty, huh?'

Reivan couldn't help but curl his lips in pride. Somehow, seeing a bunch of kids gawking at his friend felt good. He had no doubt that the expressionless girl became the first crush of numerous young boys in the training ground.

'I understand you guys, but it's not a very good idea to make it too obvious...'

From the looks of it, Helen didn't care about being stared at — or rather, Reivan wasn't sure if she noticed the nature of the stares at all.

The problem was the ascendant standing in the air in front of them.

"Care to share what's so interesting behind you, Cadet Dromen?" Donovan's cold voice sent chills up the spine of every child on the training grounds, even if they weren't at fault. "You even dare to ignore this old one just to take a look."

The child named Dromen — just one of the many boys who kept swiveling back to glance at Helen — hastily shook his head in denial. The young knight aspirant's face was covered with sweat, and Reivan doubted it was caused by the blazing sun above them.

"I-it was nothing, sir."

"Oh? So I'm less interesting to you than nothing?"

"Th-that's not what I meant, sir!" Dromen's face paled as his eyes shook in dread.

"Then what did you mean, Cadet Dromen?"

"I..."

"Yes...?"

The boy's gaze danced around, most likely searching for inspiration. But the old knight's glare acted as an indomitable pressure that caused the boy's mind to only draw blanks.

After a few seconds, Donovan landed on the ground right in front of the boy, bent over, and brought his face so close to the frozen cadet that their noses were practically touching.

"Your mother would be so disappointed if she knew you were just as horrible at chasing skirts as you are at swinging your sword."

Dromen trembled excessively as sweat continued to drip down his face.

Still looking at the boy, Donovan straightened up before saying, "Drop down and give me two hundred push-ups."

Despite the punishment, Dromen somehow looked relieved to be released from the interrogation. He saluted. "Yes, sir!"

Ignoring the boy, Donovan strolled toward his next target — another young lad who had been doing something similar to the first.

"How is your brother?" Donovan asked, his tone not sounding particularly angry.

The boy looked down to avoid the instructor's gaze before stuttering out a reply. "M-m-my brother, sir...? Wh-which one do you mean...?"

"The one who got stabbed by a woman he was playing around with."

The boy's lips pursed at the old man's biting words.

"I suppose you wouldn't want to follow in his footsteps?"

Shaking his head, the boy replied. "No, sir..."

Donovan's eyes narrowed as a sneer crossed his face. "Then get down and do twenty laps of crab walking around the training ground. Train your legs so you can at least run away, unlike your brother."

"Pfft."

After failing to stifle a giggle, a short youth with ginger hair cupped his hands against his mouth in horror.

But it was far too late.

"And what's so funny, hm?" Donovan was in front of the boy within the blink of an eye, his eyes narrowed. "Do I look like a clown to you, Cadet Nilo?"

The boy hastily shook his head. "N-no sir..."

"Then tell everyone me why you were laughing." The old instructor glowered. "Or rather, why don't you tell everyone what was stealing your attention earlier? Maybe you were looking at a pretty girl behind you?"

"Th-that's... uh..."

"Oh, you were?" Donovan looked honestly surprised. "I'm hurt. Am I not pretty enough for you, Cadet Nilo? Tell me."

Nilo quickly wiped his sweaty hands on his pants. "N-no, sir."

"No? So you think I look ugly, is that it?"

"N-n-n-no, Your Majesty!" the boy sputtered out of nervousness.

"Your Majesty...?" Donovan cocked a brow. "Do I look like I sleep in the same bed as the queen to you...?"

"N-n-no, sir!"

"I don't?"

Nilo's eyes welled up with tears, seemingly not knowing what else to say. He would be committing a grave sin if he admitted to either, but what loyalty he possessed meant he couldn't intentionally slander the names of royalty — even if it meant offending a disaster like Donovan.

"Two hundred squats. Now."

"Y-Yes, sir! Thank you so much, sir!"

With relief on his face, Nilo rushed to do the old man's instructions.

Just like that, Donovan made his rounds to mentally destroy numerous boys' psyches. He spent no more than fifteen seconds on each one, but the end result was almost always the same — the boy would accept their punishment with either surrender or relief at being freed from the old man's tongue.

'God, it's hot...'

Reivan didn't care much about what was happening, however. He was too busy complaining in his head as he wiped away the sweat forming on his face. Although he could regulate his temperature with quick use of his icy powers, Donovan would obviously sense that. And Reivan preferred the idea of sweating like a pig more than getting berated by that bald bastard in front of all these future knights.

Unfortunately for Reivan, Donovan had him in sight from the start.

As Reivan continued to get cooked under the sun, he suddenly noticed Donovan strolling toward him.

'No. Please don't go over here...'

The prince cursed the guy in front of him — the stranger had been one of the boys who'd been swiveling their head back to look at Helen.

'Because of you, he might just come after me for the hell of it!'

Reivan wouldn't put it past the old man. The bald bastard would definitely do something like that.

And he was right.

Donovan — after handling the offender standing in front of the prince — turned toward Reivan.

"What do we have here...?"

"Nothing, sir." Reivan immediately answered, his expression neutral.

"So you mean to say that you're nothing, Cadet Van?" Donovan smirked.

'Fuck you. I'm innocent! Why are you coming after me...!?'

But Reivan knew that excuse would never fly. So he nodded. "Yes, sir. I am nothing, sir. I am nobody, sir. But I came here to become somebody that can become something useful for Aizen, sir."

'How's that? Bastard, just try to turn that against me!'

It seemed that it had worked since Donovan's brows furrowed for a fraction of a second. "You're quite eloquent. Why not be a scholar instead?"

"I am determined to excel in the martial arts and become a knight as proud and valiant as you, sir!"

Donovan scoffed before he turned away. "Enough. Your bootlicking makes my skin crawl..."

'Heh.'

Reivan pumped a fist inside his head. All of his interactions with the snarky old man had finally borne fruit. Now, he could make Donovan give up on berating him one out of ten times!

It was a different kind of growth, but Reivan felt proud of his accomplishment.

'The bald bastard didn't handle compliments well.'

Reivan accidentally discovered this fact when he tried to bootlick Donovan into easing up on his punishments. Although the old man didn't give in to his requests, at the very least, the argument didn't escalate and the old man left without another word — as if running away.

'This cute bastard.'

It was a surprising fact about the grouchy knight. But because Reivan cared about his own well-being a lot, he wouldn't be telling anybody else any time soon.

The fact that he got away without punishment seemed to amaze all the children in the training ground, especially the ones who were still trying to complete theirs. They all looked at him with a hint of admiration.

'Heh. This doesn't feel bad at all...'

Reivan basked in their gazes until he noticed that Donovan was glaring Helen down. He felt his blood pressure drop significantly.

'Just stay quiet!'

He wished he had telepathy to remind the girl without anyone noticing.

But it didn't seem like he needed to.

"Hmm..." Donovan's narrowed eyes bore into the pretty girl as he said nothing.

"..." On her part, Helen's dark eyes merely stared straight into the old man's grey ones, saying nothing and doing nothing. Her expression was like a void. Blank, calm, and serene — as if nothing in this world could sway her emotions.

Eventually, Donovan turned away from her. He stalked off to prey on yet another boy who'd gawked at Helen earlier.

'What the hell just happened...?'

Reivan obviously didn't want Helen to get berated by the old bastard. But at the same time, he was quite curious about how Donovan would approach the task of bringing Helen down a peg. He didn't expect him to just leave like that.

It was somewhat disappointing, in a strange sense.

On the other hand, Hector was sentenced to three hundred sit-ups because he'd been sending glances at a pretty girl behind them.