We must rely on ourselves

Black Forest, Southern Dense Woods.

When Orion stepped out of his tent, Rolan was already drenched in sweat from his morning training.

"Honorable chieftain!" 

The youngling immediately noticed Orion and greeted him in his youthful, enthusiastic voice.

"Come here," Orion called, motioning for Rolan to approach. The boy had been running and jumping around near the guards, Dace and Otho.

"From now on, when you come to train outside my tent, address me as 'mentor,' not 'chieftain.'" 

"Yes, chieftain!" Rolan replied, his tone mimicking the formal speech he had clearly picked up from the guards.

"Hmm?" 

Orion's low grunt carried a hint of displeasure.

"Yes, mentor!" 

Rolan quickly corrected himself, his sharp reaction dispelling Orion's irritation.

"Rolan, let me emphasize this again. During training, I am your mentor, and you are my disciple. Understood?" 

"I understand!"