The rooster perched atop a distant farmhouse crowed, signaling the start of a new day.
Aldrich jolted awake, excitement flashing in his eyes. Today was another day of training. Even though he was only a year old, it seemed perfectly normal in this world for children to begin early. Though in his case, it was a little different—his enhanced physique, aided by the system, gave him an edge far beyond his age.
"Gotta go get Dad!" he exclaimed, leaping from his bed and sprinting down the hall, completely forgetting the drool stains still on his face.
He burst into his parents' room without a second thought and launched himself onto the bed.
"Hey, Papa! Wake up!" he laughed, tugging at his father's cheeks playfully.
Arthas groaned, rubbing his eyes as a frown tugged at his lips. "You're an energetic little Kane, I'll give you that," he muttered, then stretched and pulled his son into a tight hug. "Come here, you little goblin—HAH!"
The rustling of sheets signaled that Eleanor had stirred.
"Can you two please be quiet? Some of us are still trying to get our beauty sleep," she groaned, half-buried in the covers.
At her words, the rowdy pair instantly quieted. Even the ever-enthusiastic Aldrich knew better than to push the temper of the mistress of the house.
Shushing his son, Arthas carried him out of the room with exaggerated stealth, like they were sneaking away from a sleeping dragon.
Once in the hallway, Arthas set him down and asked with a grin, "So what do you want to do now, little cub?"
"I want to train—just like you, Papa!" Aldrich whispered excitedly between giggles.
Arthas blinked, then raised a brow. "Just like me?"
"Yes! I want to be strong and carry that big sword like you did yesterday!" Aldrich's eyes sparkled with admiration.
Arthas rubbed his chin as he observed his son. Despite only being a year old, Aldrich looked closer to four. His growth wasn't just fast—it was remarkable.
"Well, it won't hurt to try. Come on, we've got a training chamber in the manor, remember?" Arthas replied, his voice tinged with childish excitement.
Aldrich beamed at his father, joy radiating from him. So this is what it's like to have a father… laughter, warmth, and training. No fear. No loneliness.
They walked down the hall and descended into the manor's basement. Arthas stopped and knelt beside Aldrich.
"Wait here. I'll grab a torch. The chamber's usually left in the dark when not in use."
"Okay," Aldrich replied obediently.
As he waited, he brought up his status panel to check for any changes. No stat increases… figures. Then his eyes widened. A new notification? I forgot about that after the appraisal…
Beta Testing has been scheduled.
Retrieving Information...
Retrieval Complete.
Beta Test Period: 12 Days
Time before Beta Test: 1 year, 11 months, 29 days
Beta test? Might be a new update to my system… maybe a bonus that'll help me grow stronger, Aldrich thought, unaware that this message would mark the beginning of a life-altering journey.
Arthas returned, torch in hand, and saw Aldrich lost in thought.
"You still sleepy, cub?"
"Wha—? Uh, no Papa! Just excited to start training!" Aldrich stammered.
Laughing, Arthas led the way down the torch-lit corridor. "After years of war, once I became a baron, I had this chamber built. It's enchanted—reinforced by mages. This place can take a Tier 5 strike, spell or punch."
He placed the torch into a holder and suddenly punched the wall. A sonic boom echoed—but the wall remained unscathed.
"I used almost all my strength there," he said with a proud smile.
He turned toward Aldrich, his tone softening. "If anything ever happens—if I'm not here—use this place. Your siblings and your mother all know about it."
Aldrich stared at the wall, amazed. So even Dad's strength isn't enough to damage it... then that means there are materials tougher than him out there. And people who can make them.
"Anyway, let's begin." Arthas knelt beside Aldrich and gathered a warm, yellow aura in his hand. It wasn't fierce or oppressive—just warm, like sunlight.
"I'm going to inject some aura into your mana storage. It should help stimulate your pathways."
He pressed his palm gently to Aldrich's lower abdomen. The boy felt warmth spread through his dantian, then toward his limbs… and then—nothing.
"Huh. That's strange," Arthas murmured, frowning. But deep down, he already knew the reason.
He tried again, this time generating a steady stream of energy. But Aldrich still couldn't circulate it.
"I... I don't know why it's like that, Father," Aldrich said, voice trembling as tears welled up. Even though his mind was that of an eighteen-year-old, the emotional weight of family and failure crushed his tiny heart.
Arthas stopped the flow and wrapped his son in a hug.
"There, there, little cub. It's okay. You still have mana, and you've got the makings of a great warrior. Your blessing just… might not be suited for this path. Look at your sister, Marion. She was appraised as a Mentor, but she didn't like it. Still, she has mana—even if she hasn't trained it much."
He held Aldrich close, his voice softer now. "You'll grow stronger as you age. Just in different ways. We're lucky, really. Some commoners are appraised and end up as farmers or blacksmiths—"
He coughed and cut himself off mid-sentence.
"Don't overthink it, little cub. For all I know, you'll become a great warrior. Just learning our Greatsword Art might be enough!" Arthas forced a hearty laugh.
"Hmph." Aldrich scowled, clearly catching the "blacksmith" part. But he couldn't really blame his father. Fate had handed him that path.
"What do you say we head back and train with the family soldiers, hmm?" Arthas offered, attempting to lift the mood.
Aldrich clenched his fists as memories of his old, mediocre life returned. Even if I can't be a warrior… I'll make the strongest weapons. The toughest armor. And with them—I'll bring down even Tier 10 warriors. Just watch.
"Sure," he replied, brushing aside the earlier failure.
Arthas smiled and grabbed the torch. "After you."
The two headed back to the training grounds, where they would train in the Greatsword Art.
28 days Later
Under the sun-drenched courtyard of the Kane estate, a young boy struggled to control a weapon nearly as tall as he was.
"Again!" Arthas barked.
Aldrich panted but nodded, sweat dripping from his brow as he raised the heavy greatsword.
Kane Household Sword Style: "Howling Steel"
He assumed a firm stance, recalling his father's demonstrations. "First stance!" The wooden greatsword angled back above his head, ready to strike. "Strike!" A heavy arc swept forward, forming a fluid crescent.
"Second stance!" He adjusted, tip angled downward for a deceptive thrust. "Strike!"
"Third stance!"
Aldrich pivoted awkwardly, trying to mimic the sideways sweep. His tiny boots skidded against the stone floor.
"Strike—Waaah!"
CLANG—THUD.
The sword slammed into the ground with a dull crash, its weight pulling Aldrich with it. He faceplanted beside it, arms sprawled like a fallen sparrow. Dust puffed up around him as the blade vibrated from the impact.
"Ughhh…"
He groaned, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. His knees were scraped, his palms bruised, and pride even more so.
Arthas flinched but kept his expression stern, arms crossed from where he stood nearby. "Get up, cub."
"I… I can't." Aldrich's voice cracked, both from pain and frustration. "It's too heavy! I'm too small! This wooden sword's dumb!"
He pounded a little fist on the ground, but it didn't have the satisfying thud he wanted. His bottom lip trembled. A sob fought its way up.
Then—footsteps.
Suddenly, a large, calloused hand landed gently on his back.
"You're not weak because you fall, Aldrich," Arthas said quietly. "You're only weak if you stay down."
Aldrich sniffled, face still buried in the ground. "But I dropped the wood again. I—I practiced yesterday and still couldn't do the fourth stance."
"And you think that matters?" Arthas crouched beside him. "Let me tell you something about strength. You see this scar?" He pulled up his sleeve, revealing a pale, jagged mark along his forearm. "Got this on my first real mission. I slipped on a goblin's blood mid-swing and dislocated my shoulder. Fell flat in front of my whole squad. Thought they'd never respect me again."
"…What happened?"
"I got up." Arthas smiled faintly. "And they never let me forget it. Called me Slippy General for two years."
Aldrich gave a wet giggle. "That's stupid."
"Exactly." Arthas ruffled his hair. "Falling's not the problem. Not trying again is."
The little boy stared at his sword—its blade still trembling faintly in the dirt. Slowly, wincing a little, he pushed himself up. His arms shook. His knees burned. But he stood.
"I want to be strong," Aldrich whispered. "Even if it takes forever."
Arthas stood beside him, gaze warm. "Then forever, we'll train. Now again—from the top."
Aldrich took a deep breath, wiped his eyes, and grabbed the hilt with both hands. The sword still felt massive in his grip, but this time, he lifted it with purpose.
"First stance… strike!"
Whooosh—CLANG!
Still sloppy. Still too low.
"Better," Arthas nodded. "Again."
They continued through the morning, sweat turning to steam under the sun.
—
Later that day
As the sun dipped low, casting long shadows over the estate, Aldrich sat on the veranda, his wooden greatsword laid beside him like a sleeping beast. He hugged his knees, still sore, staring out at the horizon.
Arthas looks out his window looking at his sad youngest, he let out a sigh but he smiled and then turned to his wife who was on the bed with clenched fist as tomorrow will be the day Arthas leaves for war.
"Our son is talented, much more than anyone that I know. Imagine, he's just a year old and he can do what ten years old can do. If only he had been blessed with either a warrior or knight."
Eleanor looks at his husband that was talking and she says "Our son is perfect, you already have two sons that is a warrior and a knight, please don't include our youngest with them."
"Okay, dear whatever you say." Arthas smiles at his wife as he went over to her side.
Grabbing her hand and kissing it. "I will miss these slender fingers, the way they pinch me when I make mistakes." Arthas' jokes as he looks over Eleanor's fingers.
His wife smiled at his attempt to lighten the mood, then gently removed her hands from his as she enveloped him in an embrace.
"Keep safe my dear." Eleanor whispers
Arthas sighed and replied, "Always," as he leaned in and kissed her lips.
Their embrace lingered longer than usual, as if time might pause for them just a little while longer.
That night, no words were needed. In the dim glow of the hearth, they simply held each other, wrapped in shared warmth and silence. Neither dared to mention the coming dawn.
And when morning finally broke, it did so gently—too gently, as though the world itself hesitated to stir what should not be disturbed.
When the day of Arthas's departure arrived, the morning was heavy with unspoken emotions. Marion, the daughter of the family, clung to Eleanor's arms, her hands trembling.
She gazed up at her father with wide, tear-filled eyes, unable to comprehend the weight of his leaving.
A quiet tension hung in the air, punctuated only by the occasional chirping of birds. Eleanor's eyes, though resolute, glistened with unshed tears. Aldrich clung to his father's leg, refusing to let go, while Marion's soft sobs broke the morning silence as she buried her face in her mother's dress.
The servants moved silently around the courtyard, their usual chatter replaced by solemn faces.
Even the breeze seemed hesitant, carrying with it the faint scent of dew and the unspoken worry of those left behind.
Eleanor stood beside her husband as he packed his gear, her face composed but her eyes glistening with tears.
"Stay strong and guide Aldrich," Arthas said softly. "The others can manage themselves."
Eleanor nodded, her voice breaking as she embraced him tightly. "I will, my love."
Arthas pulled away gently and mounted his horse. Looking back at his wife, he smiled. "Keep my bed warm for me when I return."
Eleanor laughed through her tears. "I will, every night."
With a final wave, Arthas rode off toward Viscount Edward's estate, leaving the Kane household behind.