FL - Chapter 45: Weir

Weir's story had begun two years ago. That was the day the barbarians attacked his village.

He'd been ten years old then, still a child who understood nothing of the world. In a single day, he lost every family member and every friend he'd ever known. The home he'd grown up in became a burned-out ruin.

Only his mother had escaped, dragging her exhausted body through the forest with Weir in tow.

There was no food and no water. They lived on foraged berries, scraping by one day at a time.

But misfortune hadn't finished with them.

Not long after, they were captured by a passing band of slave traders.

His mother tried to get Weir to run, but in the end, they were both taken to the slave market.

All Weir could remember was being put on display like merchandise before a parade of cold-eyed buyers.

Rough cloth scraped against his skin. Hunger hollowed him out. Even the smallest shred of dignity had been stripped away.

His mother held him tight and endured it all in silence.

Until the turning point of fate arrived. The great Lord Louis appeared at the slave market and purchased several hundred slaves. Weir among them.

Louis brought them to Crimson Tide Territory. He gave them a warm home.

For the first time in as long as he could remember, Weir ate until he was full. He wore clothes that kept him warm. He felt the security he had long since forgotten existed.

His mother began working at the smoked fish workshop in Crimson Tide Territory.

Every morning at dawn, she was already at it. Washing fish, salting them, smoking them. Not a single step in the process did she ever slack on.

It was hard work, but she survived by the labor of her own two hands. At long last, she had a measure of dignity and stability.

And her efforts did not go unnoticed.

After hearing of her performance, Louis decided to revoke her slave status and Weir's, granting them the standing of free citizens.

That day, his mother, who had never once shed a tear before, held Weir in her arms and sobbed without restraint.

From that day forward, Weir had a purpose in life. To become someone who could repay Lord Louis's kindness.

Weir stood among the crowd, his eyes locked onto the Bloodstone.

The opportunity was here. Lord Louis was selecting knights.

If he could just be chosen, he could serve the great lord. He could repay everything the lord had given his mother and him.

He could stand at Lord Louis's side. He could change his fate.

At last, his name was called.

"Weir," the teacher said softly.

Weir's heart nearly burst through his chest. His steps were leaden as he walked toward the platform.

The great lord stood directly before him, almost too bright to look at.

Following the procedure, he drew the dagger gently across his finger and let a drop of blood fall onto the Bloodstone.

*Please let it work. Please let it work...* The prayer repeated in his mind until he could barely breathe.

The instant the blood touched the Bloodstone, something subtle stirred.

The surface of the stone began to glow. Faintly at first, then with a pulsing red radiance.

Weir's eyes flew open wide. He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"It worked. It worked." He couldn't stop the whisper escaping his lips. Tears of pure emotion surged into his eyes. Without thinking, he dropped to his knees, both of them striking the platform.

"I really succeeded. Great Lord, I pledge my loyalty to you!"

Louis gently lifted him back to his feet. "There's no need to be so overwhelmed."

Weir's voice trembled. "Thank you, my lord! I will give everything I have to protect Crimson Tide Territory!"

Louis had known all along that Weir possessed the potential to become a Peak Knight.

Back when Weir was still a slave, the Daily Intelligence System had already flagged him.

Weir was a knight candidate of extraordinary talent, someone capable of reaching the rank of Peak Knight. A future pillar of Crimson Tide Territory's combat strength.

The testing continued through the entire morning. Out of over two hundred children, eight were ultimately selected. Eight possessed the talent to become knights.

"Eight knights..." Louis murmured under his breath. A glint of satisfaction passed through his eyes.

It wasn't a huge number, but for an emerging territory, it was already a considerable harvest.

In truth, training knights required vast resources. Crimson Tide Territory's resources were tight, but with the family's support, they could still bear the cost.

Down south, a minor noble house with generations of accumulated wealth might field only a few dozen Apprentice Knights, a dozen or so Formal Knights, and a handful of Elite Knights.

Compared to those minor houses, with the backing of his family, Louis's current military strength already matched them.

The only real problem was that Crimson Tide Territory sat in the Northlands. A land as dangerous as it was barren.

Barbarians, bandits, even neighboring lords. All were potential threats.

For instance, according to the Daily Intelligence System, the Snowsworn had recently been raiding territories across the Northlands Province with increasing frequency. Lately, they had been acting with near-madness. Fortunately, their activity was still far from his borders.

To survive in an environment like this, Louis had to tread with extreme caution, relying on the forces and resources he had at hand to secure his foothold.

Louis stood on the raised end of the training grounds, looking down at the eight children.

These children would not only be Crimson Tide Territory's knights of the future. They would be his closest strength, his future personal guard.

Louis entrusted these eight gifted children to Barnes, a Formal Knight.

Barnes possessed a wealth of combat experience and a strong aptitude for teaching. He was the ideal candidate to train this next generation of knights.

Their first lesson was the practice of a Breathing Art.

"The Breathing Art is the foundation of a knight's cultivation. It determines how far you can go."

Barnes demonstrated the Flow Breathing Art. This technique originated from House Calvin.

While it wasn't as powerful as the Tide Breathing Art reserved for the family's core members, it was still formidable. A first-rate Breathing Art in its own right.

"The human body has seven aura nodes. By cycling the Breathing Art through them, you activate those nodes and convert the energy in the air into Battle Aura. It enters your body and awakens your bloodline."

As he explained, Barnes modeled the breathing motions. Deep inhale, chest rising subtly, then a slow, measured exhale.

"Every deep breath you take draws energy from the atmosphere. That energy will eventually be refined into your Battle Aura."

The children earnestly mimicked Barnes's movements, trying to sense the changes within their bodies.

At first, they felt nothing. But as time passed, a few of them finally detected something subtle shifting inside them.

Weir was the first to feel it. He whispered, "I can feel energy entering my body!"

Barnes nodded with satisfaction. "Good. That's the first step."

In the training sessions that followed, Barnes pushed the children to keep practicing, to deepen their grasp of the Breathing Art.

"The Breathing Art is not only a method of strengthening your Battle Aura," he emphasized. "It is also a process that tempers your spirit and your will."

By the time the days of training drew to a close, every child could feel the flow of energy within them. They had grasped the fundamentals of the Flow Breathing Art.

Barnes looked upon their performance with quiet approval. "You have all taken the first step on the path to becoming knights."

But this was only the beginning. Only sustained training could forge these children into truly loyal and capable knights for Crimson Tide Territory.