With the formation broken, the trainees scattered in different directions. Among the thirty-two participants, a mere seven chose to challenge the many who had passed. Some of the soldiers in the village then arrived with several crates, popping them open to reveal an arsenal of quality weapons. Rollo hopped on position, and then repeatedly to warm his body, with a smile. His eyes traced through the vicinity around him, unfazed by the attention from the other trainees. He tilted his head to one side and widened his smile, at the sight of a concerned friend.

“Did you notice?” said Rollo, suddenly. “You should be worrying about yourself more.”

Daiden followed the same route as his friend. He observed the other trainees as well, their eyes – trained on him just the same.

“Is this because I’m the Lord of Fire’s grandson?” asked Daiden, stuttering a laugh. “I suppose pettiness isn’t just a human problem.”

Rollo leaned towards Daiden, almost in a fall. He hummed and swirled to the other side with a wry smile. His eyes narrowed to half-moons, curving with mischief.

“Humans…are you talking about the Earthen Realm, by any chance?” asked Rollo.

Daiden staggered and laughed again, in avoidance of the question. He cursed at his misstep and quickly added to his original statement. “Yes, I do know a thing or two about the Earthen Realm, mostly from my grandfather’s teachings.”

“Strange that he never taught you more about our world,” mentioned Rollo, referring to the former’s lack of knowledge about the Nis. “Well, that’s where most teachers would start anyway.”

“Perhaps,” said Daiden, with a shrug. “But the Lord of Fire is a confident man. He expected my recovery and insisted that I experience Mioverold in the flesh, not through the eyes of old books and pages.”

“Hard to argue that, the wisdom of old Lords and whatnot,” said Rollo, in a laugh, surrendering his probe from the conversation. “Either way, you have matters of your own to worry about. Or, would you rather I helped you out this one time?”

Daiden cocked his head, uncertainly and in a hum. His eyes lowered on instinct, now in thought about the suggestion. But a quick tap on his shoulder reeled him to reality once more.

“Consider it a favour from a friend,” said Rollo, bending his hip to meet Daiden’s lowered eyes. “Honestly, it makes me impatient just looking at you.”

“When was it ever bad to be a little cautious?” asked Daiden, slightly flush with embarrassment.

“Never!” said Rollo, with a smile. “It’s just…boring? Maybe not. But leave this bit to me.”

***

Rollo hopped to a stride, and quickly eased to a walk a few steps away from Daiden. His expression darkened for a moment, once hidden from prying eyes. He tugged at the bracelet on his right arm, dexterously designed despite the hardness of the material. He felt the cuts and engravings with a soft touch, and only parted after a deep breath, in confirmation of the item’s performance.

“It’s holding on well for now,” thought Roland, separated from the purpose of his new identity. “I’ll need to meet with Noah to request another…”

The silver-haired individual stopped in front of Valaris and smiled, brightly. He receded to a happier expression and waved at the Senior Knight.

“Well met, well met,” said Rollo. “Thank you for being considerate enough to do this!”

“It’s merely testing protocol…I have nothing to do with it,” said Valaris, with a sigh. He noticed Rollo snicker a little and sighed again. “What do you want?”

“To make an announcement to the other trainees,” said Rollo, honestly. He raised his voice to train the attention of those around him. “May I?”

Valaris shifted his gaze from left to right and smiled. “Go on ahead, then. You’ve piqued their interest anyway.”

Rollo bowed a little and addressed the trainees next. He snickered out loud, then louder, almost theatrically. His arm swept across everyone in the vicinity and paused at Daiden last.

“Fellow trainees, I appreciate your consideration for this impatient person,” said Rollo, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “I simply wish to issue an open to challenge to anyone with the courage to face me in single combat. Allow me the privilege to shed from this impatience!”

The trainees twitched at the bizarre display of confidence. Their faces crumpled with disgust. A few among them moved towards Rollo, in inches and with caution. But another, a short, rough-looking individual, strode to the front without hesitation. He stomped the butt of his spear to the ground and folded his arms with a stern expression. His features reflected an appearance much older than his age, and his hair stood stiff, brown in colour and in a bunch. He glared at those behind him, demanding an immediate stop to their approach towards Rollo.

“You’ve caught my attention, little bitch!” said the short individual, mockingly. “I’m Moran, from the Tribe of Kars, Son of Chief Spearman, Regals.”

“My, my,” said Rollo, light-heartedly. “Do you kiss you parents with that mouth?”

“Your name!” shouted Moran.

“You appear to know it already,” said Rollo, laughing still. “It’s Little Bitch.”

Moran smiled a little as well, slipping into a stance ready for combat. His smile broadened to a grin, with thick, white teeth, packed tight and without gaps. He freed his weapon from the soil and pointed it at Rollo, gesturing for the latter to do the same.

“I’m quite unfamiliar with the spear,” said Rollo, ambling to a crate of weapons. He knelt in thought, scratching his chin, and then reached for his weapon of choice, a spear. “But how hard could it be?”

Moran distorted to an ugly appearance, in a rage. He tightened his grip with severity and held to his stance by an inch, reeling merely on account of his father’s honour. His eyes shifted to Valaris, urging the command for battle. It tore into his heart, the idea of a supposed nobody mocking his craft and heritage. He felt it seethe through the entirety of his body and turned his gaze towards Rollo once more, the latter now in front of him, loose, unready and without ill intent.

The Senior Knight noticed it as well.

“A Karsman’s ability with the spear is nothing to laugh at,” said Valaris, in an address to Rollo. “Are you sure you want to meet Moran like this?”

“I can sense that he’s inherited something quite nice from the Mirror of Potential,” said Rollo, in observation of his opponent. He loudened his voice again, for the sake of a declaration, and then added, “Remember this well…all of you, spare the grandson of the Lord of Fire, I can defeat all of you in single combat. That…that is my word, in honour of my name – Little Bitch.”