The morning air carried the familiar sounds of combat training the rhythmic clash of steel against steel, the sharp commands of instructors, and the controlled grunts of exertion from soldiers pushing their bodies to their limits. As Eldrin and Sera approached the training yard, these sounds grew louder and more distinct, painting an auditory picture of disciplined military preparation that had been the heartbeat of Valtross lands for generations.
Eldrin paused at the edge of the courtyard, momentarily overwhelmed by disbelief. Despite the catastrophic loss that had befallen their house the brutal murder of their lord and his family the knights still continued their training with undiminished vigor. Their dedication struck him as both inspiring and humbling. Even in the face of uncertainty about their future, these men maintained their duty with unwavering commitment.
"I can't believe they're still at it," Eldrin murmured to Sera, his voice filled with wonder and disbelief. "After everything that's happened, they're still training as if nothing has changed."
Sera's weathered face softened with understanding. "Duty doesn't pause for grief, young master. These men serve House Valtross, and House Valtross still stands through you. They train because they believe in what your family built, and they believe in you even if you don't quite believe in yourself yet."
Her words carried the weight of decades spent observing the intricate relationships between nobility and those who served them. The knights weren't simply going through the motions they were making a statement of faith in the continuation of the Valtross legacy.
At the center of the training ground, Sir Dorian's commanding voice rose above the general din as he directed a squad of younger knights through their sword forms. His weathered face was set in lines of concentration, his experienced eyes catching every flaw in technique, every moment of hesitation or improper footwork.
"Again!" Dorian barked, his voice carrying the authority of decades spent molding raw recruits into capable warriors. "Your enemy won't wait for you to remember your stance! Swift advance, parry high, riposte to the throat! Move like your life depends on it because someday it will!"
The knights responded immediately, their movements becoming more fluid and decisive under his stern guidance. Eldrin watched with growing fascinationand awe as he recognized the distinctive patterns of the Valtross military swordsmanship the fighting style that had been the backbone of their house's military strength for over two centuries.
The technique was unique among noble houses, born not from courtly tradition or foreign masters, but from desperate necessity. One of Eldrin's ancestors had faced a crisis that nearly destroyed their lands entirely. A massive incursion of monsters from the northern wilderness had overwhelmed their traditional knightly forces, leaving the duchy dangerously undermanned and vulnerable.
Rather than retreat or call for aid from the royal capital that might never come, His Ancestor had made a revolutionary decision: he would teach the common folk to fight. Not the elaborate, individually focused techniques favored by traditional knightly orders, but something simpler, more practical, and infinitely more teachable. The Valtross swordsmanship had been developed specifically to transform farmers and craftsmen into effective soldiers in a matter of months rather than years.
The style emphasized efficiency over elegance, group tactics over individual prowess, and adaptability over rigid form. It could be learned by anyone with the dedication to master its fundamentals, and it scaled beautifully from single combat to large-scale battlefield engagements. Most importantly, it worked Lord Garrett's unconventional army had not only repelled the monster incursion but had become the foundation of Valtross military doctrine for generations to come.
Over time, the practical effectiveness of the Valtross swordsmanship had gained recognition throughout the kingdom. While it might lack the refined beauty of the royal swordsmanship taught in the capital, it was widely acknowledged as the second-most effective fighting system in the realm. What it lacked in prestige, it more than made up for in results.
Watching the knights drill now, Eldrin felt a surge of pride in his family's pragmatic innovation. These men weren't just practicing sword forms they were preserving a living piece of Valtross history, maintaining skills that had protected their lands through countless challenges.
Roland's attention was immediately drawn to the familiar figures approaching the training yard. He had been working with a group of newer recruits, helping them master the fundamental positions that formed the foundation of their fighting system. The moment he spotted Eldrin walking beside Sera, he broke away from his training partners without hesitation.
"My lord!" Roland called out as he approached, his face showing a mixture of surprise and concern. "Good morning. I didn't expect to see you here so early."
Eldrin offered a respectful nod in greeting. "Good morning, Roland. I hope I'm not interrupting anything important."
"Never, my lord. Your presence is always welcome." Roland's eyes quickly assessed Eldrin's appearance, noting the training clothes and the determined set of his shoulders. "May I ask what brings you to the yard this morning?"
"I wish to use the training facilities," Eldrin said directly, his voice carrying more confidence than it had in days. "I need to begin rebuilding my physical strength."
Roland's expression immediately shifted to one of concern. "My lord, with all due respect, are you certain you're ready for physical exercise? It's only been a week since..." He trailed off, unwilling to explicitly mention the massacre, but his meaning was clear.
Eldrin appreciated the knight's concern, but he had made his decision. "It's not necessarily exercise for its own sake," he clarified. "But I need to get back into proper condition. As someone once told me, a healthy mind requires a healthy body as well."
The quote, borrowed from the System's quest description, felt appropriate in this context. While he couldn't explain the supernatural source of his motivation, the underlying principle was sound enough to justify his determination.
Roland studied his young lord's face for a long moment, clearly weighing his protective instincts against his duty to support Eldrin's decisions. Finally, he nodded slowly. "If you're determined to train, my lord, then I insist on accompanying you. I can't in good conscience allow you to push yourself without proper supervision."
"That's not necessary," Eldrin protested. "You have your own training responsibilities, and I don't want to interfere with your duties."
"With respect, my lord, my primary duty is to you," Roland replied firmly. "Sir Dorian was very clear about my priorities. Besides," he added with a slight smile, "it would do me good to have a training partner again. I haven't had a proper workout companion since..."
He didn't finish the sentence, but Eldrin understood. Since his brother Alaric's death. The unspoken words hung in the air between them, a reminder of the bonds that had been severed and the new ones that were slowly forming in their place.
Eldrin found himself moved by Roland's quiet determination to honor both his duty and his friendship. "Very well," he conceded. "If you're certain you don't mind the company."
"I would be honored, my lord."
They moved to a section of the training yard that was relatively clear of other activities, giving them space to work without interfering with the ongoing drills. Sera positioned herself at a respectful distance, close enough to observe but far enough away to avoid being intrusive.
"What did you have in mind for your training?" Roland asked as they began some basic stretching exercises.
Eldrin consulted his mental interface, where the Shadow System's quest requirements remained clearly displayed. "I need to complete a ten-kilometer run," he said, the words feeling somewhat surreal and difficult as they left his mouth. "Along with some basic strength exercises."
Roland's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Ten kilometers? My lord, that's quite ambitious for someone just returning to physical activity. Perhaps we should start with something more modest?"
"I appreciate your concern," Eldrin replied, "but I have my reasons for this specific distance. If I can't complete it all at once, I'll do what I can and work up to the full requirement over time."
The knight nodded, recognizing the determination in his lord's voice. "Very well. In that case, let's begin with a proper warm-up and see how far your current conditioning will take you."
They spent several minutes preparing their bodies for the upcoming exertion—stretching muscles that had been largely inactive for days, loosening joints that had grown stiff from inactivity, and gradually elevating their heart rates through light calisthenics.
As they worked, other knights in the yard began to take notice of their young lord's presence. Word spread quickly through the training ground, and soon many of the soldiers were stealing glances in their direction. Some showed obvious concern for Eldrin's wellbeing, while others displayed clear admiration for his determination to begin training so soon after his ordeal.
Sir Dorian, having noticed the shift in his men's attention, approached their section of the yard. His weathered face showed a complex mixture of emotions as he took in the sight of Eldrin preparing for serious physical exercise.
"Young lord," Dorian said formally, inclining his head in respect. "It does my heart good to see you taking steps toward recovery."
"Thank you, Sir Dorian," Eldrin replied. "I hope my presence here won't be too much of a distraction for your men."
The older knight's face creased in what might have been the ghost of a smile. "On the contrary, my lord. I suspect your example will inspire them to train even harder. There's nothing quite like the sight of their lord pushing himself to excellence to motivate soldiers to do the same."
With the formalities observed, Dorian returned to his duties, but Eldrin could sense that he would be keeping a careful eye on their activities. The protective instincts of the older knight were clearly engaged, ready to intervene if the young lord pushed himself beyond safe limits.
"Are you ready?" Roland asked, having completed his own preparation routine.
Eldrin took a deep breath, feeling the morning air fill his lungs completely for the first time in days. The Shadow System's quest indicator pulsed gently in his peripheral vision, a reminder of the challenge ahead. Ten kilometers—roughly six miles—of running. It seemed impossible, but then again, so had walking to the mausoleum, and he had accomplished that monumental task.
"I'm ready," he said, and meant it.
They began at an easy pace, more of a fast walk than a run, allowing Eldrin's body to adjust to the new demands being placed upon it. The familiar sights of the estate grounds passed by at a measured rhythm—the training yard giving way to formal gardens, then to the practical areas where the daily business of managing a duchy took place.
With each step, Eldrin felt himself growing stronger, more confident, more alive. The grief remained, would always remain, but it no longer defined the entirety of his existence. He was Eldrin Valtross, heir to a noble legacy, and he was finally ready to begin reclaiming that inheritance one stride at a time.
System Notification:
0.5km completed. 9.5km remaining.
Physical condition: Stable.
Recommended pace: Maintain current effort level.