[Peace and prosperity]

In the middle of the afternoon, the paved ground was burning and the animals were reluctant to walk.

The sun hung bleakly, whipping in all directions like a seasoned sailor.

Who is a second would judge through fresh or salt water by its characteristic smell, without sweating a drop

Quite the opposite of a young man who was exercising alone in his backyard.

One 'boing', two 'boing', three 'boing'.

On one arm he practiced push-ups, carefully lowering his chest down.

His expression did not alternate, remaining serious with each repetition.

He was in a state of semi-nudity, counting on the necessary to cover his intimate areas.

The sun's rays reflected on the sweat that covered his slim and toned body, building a dazzling scene.

The young man's face was covered by his untied hair sprayed with sweat. His eyes were not visible until he looked up to finish his series of push-ups.

Purple eyes devoid of reluctance appeared before anyone's eyes.

It was Federick, who in his past life was a committed sports and fitness enthusiast.

So through the information obtained from his system, he found the motivation to train at such a young age.

His training consisted of a fairly simple one, based on basic calisthenics. Using only his body weight, he performed conventional exercises.

The heat was unbearable, his body was dripping with sweat and his muscles were tense, yet his expression did not degrade to one of discomfort or laziness.

His mentality was above average, turning the stress of the situation into contentment. A skill he had mastered in his past life.

When finally the shade of a tree covered him, he was finished with his round of exercises. He was both satisfied and uncomfortable.

The cause of his discomfort was sweat, left over from his exertion. Today he should probably take two baths because he had horseback riding and archery.

Although today he would not be able to ride like the wind. The horse he enjoyed riding had recently passed away spontaneously.

But before he could have a chance to leave his yard, he was intercepted by a female figure. It was his Mother, who had arrived by surprise.

"I didn't know that among the hobbies of young men included physical training. What has motivated you, my little Federick?". Perla commented with a light laugh.

Her hand lightly covered her lips. Her arms are slender and tanned.

"Mother! Your beauty has captivated me... Motivation is only secondary." Federick replied, teasingly.

"Rascal...Your grandfather is not enough to fulfill an identity of authority." Said Perla with a sigh.

"But that's what I'm for." She continued.

...

Federick was refreshed, his muscles recovering. His hair was sticking to his face, back of his neck; but not because of sweat, but because he had taken a shower.

His mother had obliged him immediately, as she did not enjoy his "extravagant" appearance.

He finally met her in the dining room, after choosing his clothes. Her grace was incomparable, with a refined posture, she was reading a book between her slender hands.

"The Opposition" was its title. On the cover, is the image of a ragged individual.

"I still don't know how that book managed to be marketed," Federick commented.

"Mhm? Have you washed behind your ears?". Perla said with a smile.

Federick didn't blush at that mention, taking a seat next to his Mother.

"A commoner leading a revolt against the local nobles is truly... Innovative." Federick said sarcastically.

Perla found the tone used by her son strange. She directed one last glance at the page, to turn in his direction.

"When we perform an analysis, the first step is to direct our attention to the information provided. Don't you find the copper tone of the leaves odd?" Perla said, trying to sow uncertainty.

An attempt that failed, through the young man's determined eyes.

"Why should I be interested?" Federick commented "Logically".

"Sometimes you are quite stupid, my son." Said Perla with an exalted smile.

Before Federick could refute it, she went on excellently.

"The book is a critique from a social-political perspective, from the hand of a talented writer. Although I got it, that doesn't mean it is publicly marketed; It was written in a faraway realm and finally came to me." Perla said laughing at her son's childlike naiveté.

The book "The Opposition" was written by a woman. Inari, of the Ary'va dynasty: The tortuous path of a war slave, of a destroyed nation. When he achieves his freedom, he changes his identity and engages in a political struggle of epic proportions; finally achieving his goal, replacing royalty with his family name, creating an era of peace and prosperity.

...

In open fields, trees were abundant but not intrusive. A fierce pounding could be heard, shaking the earth.

Like a divine beast, a stallion ran prodigiously past. Its muscles are strong, and on its back, a skilled rider.

Perla was riding on a white steed, which matched her figure and garments.

Federick on an imposing black horse. Despite his Mother's claims, he had succeeded in his intention to choose him as his mount.

Federick did not have to cancel the scheduled riding, as Perla enjoyed the sport. From childhood to adulthood, she had been an amateur.

His horses were trotting, respecting the serene mood of their riders.

Their exploration lasted quite some time, traversing different terrains, uneven or muddy, they ventured recklessly.

"Time is fleeting with you, Mother."

Perla received a pang in her heart but arranged her best smile.

"That's why, my son. If only time were longer..." Perla said regretfully.

"Though I couldn't imagine walking all these grounds without Timothy 2," Federick said as he stroked the horse.

At this demonstration, Perla laughed to the point of forming small tears in her eyes.

"The family's horses are well fed, trained, and cared for. They receive noble treatment from infancy." Perla replied with a smile.

"Better treatment than the peasants," Federick said with an imperceptible smile.

...

After a hundred-meter sprint, Perla and Federick's horses rested.

"Horses were my faithful friends during my youth," Perla commented lightly.

"But especially the wind, my companion." Finished Perla with a smile.

"Timothy passed away recently," Federick said.

"Oh, who was 'Timothy'?" Expressed Perla with surprise and intrigue, remembering their earlier exchange of words.

"Timothy was my steed. He died spontaneously." Federick continued.

"What a pity... If me were around, I would devote all my efforts to trying to save him." Said Perla sadly, trying to comfort him.

"It would be very difficult; He was missing his head." Said Federick thinking "seriously".

At this, he simply received an incredulous and foolish look from his Mother.

"Son, how is it possible that he could have been decapitated if it was spontaneous death?". Perla asked incredulously.

"That's what they told me."

"..."

But a figure emerged and interrupted their conversation. He approached as he got off his horse, looking disheveled.

"Lady Perla, thank the Goddess that you are. I cried out for your beneficent action; An accident occurred and a descendant was seriously injured." The man expressed in despair.

This sudden interruption took Perla by surprise, but she did not hesitate to accept and help.

"Lead the way." She said as she mounted his steed.

"Son, stay back, don't move from here. Mom will be back." Perla quickly communicated as she walked away.

Federick waited for a few minutes until a shadow covered his entire body. A giant shadow, belonging to a giant.

"I killed your horse."

The voice was deep and uncompromising.