Milo and Marcos

"Oh my boy!", Sheila ran from the door, swinging her arms around Milo, pulling him into a hug before he could even step foot out of the carriage.

"Mother …", Milo said, his speech muffled by his mother's constant tossing and turning.

She pushed him away but kept him gripped by the shoulders, her blue eyes tracing his entire body.

She covered her mouth with her hand, a tear forming at the corner of her eye, "Look at you, when did you get so big?", she said, her eyes continuing to trace Milo's body.

"Although this needs a slight trim", Sion said, twirling the tips of Milo's hair between his fingers, "Welcome back son. How did you find it?".

"Unimpressive", Milo responded bluntly, wriggling free from his mother's iron grasp and making his way back into the residence.

"Oh, how so?", Sion asked, intrigued by the sudden change in Milo's demeanour.

"The Earl wasn't anything impressive and to be honest, I didn't even get to properly meet his son. It was kind of, alright in and out, you know?", Milo said, wagging his finger.

Renny rolled his eyes watching Milo brag.

Of course, Sion didn't know what Renny knew. He was sure that if Sion did find out that not only did Milo battle with a demon and chase down a demon general, but also disrespect the Earl to his face and threaten him to the point he was as helpless as a lamb. Sion might just burst into tears out of fear for what would happen.

The group consisting of Milo, Renny, Marcos, Sion and Sheila all made their way through the residence towards the dining room. Sion continually pestered his son as they walked, to which Milo simply palmed him away, insisting he would tell his father everything when the time was right.

After settling down around the table, everyone except Marcos who decided to stand guard behind Milo even though it was only his family around, maids began to bustle around, lining the table with a lavish spread of meats, pastry, fruits and veg.

Milo got déjà vu watching Marcos sneak a loaf of bread.

"Just come and sit, moron", Milo pulled out the chair next to him, looking over his shoulder towards Marcos.

"No sir", Marcos responded, straightening his posture.

Milo let out a tired sigh before pushing the chair back in, "All right then you bread bandit, just stay there and look threatening".

While Milo sat in silence watching his family enjoy the food, a warm feeling filled his chest. It was a feeling he was unfamiliar with so he struggled to put a name to it. But he wasn't so naïve as to turn a blind eye to it either.

It seemed that despite his best efforts, Milo had actually begun to consider these people as his family.

A crash resounded, followed by Melissa, Rebecca and Pavlor all bundling through the door and taking a seat at the table. Pavlor made sure to take a seat next to Milo and lean in before whispering.

"So, how was the Earl?".

"Shit", Milo whispered back, "Completely useless although he seemed to possess some intelligence".

"I see", Pavlor mused, earning confused looks from everyone around the table.

"Where is your mother by the way? I can't remember the last time I saw her but it must be coming up a few years at this point", Milo asked Pavlor.

"She's away right now", Renny butted in, spooning some kind of soup into his mouth before continuing, "She initially came from a viscount family and it would seem they were already informed on the royal selection before us. She left a few years back to prepare with her own family".

"Why though?", Milo asked perplexed, "Isn't Pavlor her son and this her family?".

"Of course", Renny responded with a smile that quickly faded, "It's just the way nobility is. You could be the kindest, most caring person in the world and they would still think less of you because of a rank".

'I see'.

Milo thought to himself, deciding not to question any further. Hours passed in an instant and Milo found himself outside in the garden lit by a few dim lamps hanging from the fence surrounding him. Marcos stepped out behind him, drawing his blade and stopping a few paces away from Milo.

"Ready sir?", he asked, dropping his hips and pointing the tip of his sword towards Milo.

"Yep", Milo mimicked his pose, letting his mana flow he encased his body in the same armour he typically used.

*bang*

Milo and Marcos clashed, dashing all throughout the garden, charring the grass and blowing away the fences and lamps. With each strike, Milo felt a dull ache run up his arm as Marcos was swinging to kill. He cocked back his claws and swiped, intending to take Marcos' head.

Marcos leant backward to dodge. Catching him slightly off balance, Milo smirked and swept for Marcos' legs, "Got you!", Milo said with a grin plastered on his face.

The grin was quickly washed away when Marcos jumped back, landing on the palms of his hands and using them as a spring to launch forward, planting a two footed kick right in Milo's sternum, sending a sudden shock throughout his core.

A wave of nausea washed over Milo as his core struggled to maintain the steady flow of mana.

"Come on …", Milo heaved, dropping to one knee, "Going for the core? That's cheating Marcos".

"No sir", Marcos shook his head, offering his hand to help Milo back to his feet, "In order to properly prepare you for the royal selection, I will use all means necessary to ensure that you can win against anyone".

"You …", Milo seethed, "I'm not sure I like this tone you are taking".

During their time together, Marcos had gone from an obedient lap dog to more like a friend, and a cocky one at that. It made for a nice change at times, having Marcos constantly acting as if he was some sort of bodyguard was growing tiring for Milo.

Although Marcos still acted this way at times, particularly when they found themselves in unfamiliar company or with people that Milo needed to show off his power to. When they were alone, Marcos acted this way, kicking Milo about under the guise of development.

Milo's body shivered as the mana bursting from his core finally subsided.

"Yeah whatever, you know nobody my age can beat me", Milo japed back, climbing to his feet.

"But even so", Marcos responded instantly, "What will you do if you happen to meet someone who has a powerful emblem?".

'Oh right, I almost forgot that emblems even existed'.

Milo thought for a moment before answering.

"So, tell me more about emblems?", he asked. It was a topic that since coming to this world he had been intrigued by. At times, it felt like the emblem was an entirely different power source without limitation to him.

Take his own emblem, soul harvester, for example. Despite his low core level, his emblem seemed to function at an absurdly high rate, although it did have to accommodate his body. The way Milo got around this hurdle, was by doing what he did best and putting it into a ranking system.

His core level at this moment in time was somewhere he estimated to be between D+ and C+, on a scale ranging from F to A+.

In comparison he felt that his emblem was easily A+, maybe only A due to the damn deity being able to sense him if he got too strong.

"There's plenty out there, Milo", Marcos said in a tone that sounded like a parent scolding their child, "More than you could possibly imagine. Emblems that hold so much power that once activated the very laws of the world become irrelevant".

"Oh", Milo cocked his brow, "You make it sound as if you have encountered one of these emblems before".

"Indeed", Marcos said calmly, but a visible shudder ran through his body at the thought.

"It was decades ago. I encountered a man in battle who possessed an emblem that allowed him to quite simply tear the space in the surrounding area. Before I knew it, he had ripped off both of my arms, leaving me crippled on the battlefield awaiting the cold embrace of death".

"But …", Milo mumbled surprised by Marcos's serious tone, "You still have your arms".

"Another emblem", Marcos added, "One of the very best medical groups in Nyxahar possess a demon with an emblem that can heal any sort of wound as long as it isnt immediately fatal".

"That's absurd!", Milo screamed, "You expect me to believe that's possible!?".

"That's what I'm saying Milo", Marcos said, taking a seat on a nearby chair and allowing his head to sag, "It's unbelievable. The fact someone can just be born with a world-shaking power and use it however they like".

Before Milo could respond, images of Renny suddenly plashed into his mind and his eyes.

"No fucking way", Milo shook his head in disbelief, "Surely they have an immense sacrifice to go with that power though?".

Marcos shrugged his shoulders, "Who knows. All I know is that if the power outweighs the sacrifice no matter the price you have to pay, it's a good deal at the end of the day".

"I suppose you have a point", Milo reluctantly agreed with the statement.

If he had the power to tear apart space, he wouldn't have even cared if he lost all of his sense, emotions, organs, or even had an extremely short lifespan. That power alone made it all worth it.

'What an utter joke'.

For Milo, the royal selection suddenly became a much more clouded event. He had assumed going into it that he would simply be kicking children around and then walk free allowing Renny to move up a few more ranks. But with the sudden information from Marcos, he began to wonder if there was a child out there who possessed such an emblem.

He had initially wanted to keep his power concealed, as to not attract attention. But what if he was forced to use it? That question began to plague his mind as he found himself constantly losing spars on the first swing against Marcos.

Sensing Milo's mind was elsewhere, Marcos reluctantly ended the sparring and waited for the order to retreat back to his bedroom. The order never came, instead Milo slumped to floor, gripping a handful of cold dirt. His face twisted into a frown as he slammed the dirt down.

"Shit", he growled, catching Marcos off guard.

His frustration was boiling over again. His new life which he had assumed would be easy due to his experience, was slowly turning into more of a nightmare than anything else. It made it even worse that emblems weren't something you could prepare for.

The only time you saw someone else's emblem was when they used it, and even then you may not be able to paint a clear picture of their power. This made fights much more unpredictable where there was a chance that the strongest wouldn't always win.

Marcos remained silent watching Milo struggle to get to grips with what he was told. Or at least, that's what he thought was happening.

Even Marcos wasn't aware of Milo's true identity. This led to some misunderstanding between the two, which Milo was in most cases was able to quickly cover up. It was moments like these which really made Marcos question just who he had selected as his master.

He knew Milo was a child of immense talent, but did he really know who Milo was as a person? He had wanted to make a point to grow closer to Milo, to be able to fully understand his thoughts so he didn't need to wait around for orders. For the two to finally work in tandem and allow one another to grow too much greater heights.

But with each passing day, this dream of Marcos' seemed to grow even more faint.

After his crisis was over, Milo tried to regain his composure the best he could. He took a seat again and pointed for Marcos to sit by his side. The two remained in silence as the sun began to rise over the forest, painting the destroyed garden in a beautiful red hue.

It was days like these that made Milo believe he was lucky to be reincarnated.

"You know I …", Milo hesitated over his words, choosing not to reveal to Marcos that he was a reincarnate.

He wasn't afraid that Marcos might tell or leave him, he just didn't know if it was the right time or not.

"Well then", Milo hopped from the chair and smiled at Marcos, "Shall we continue with our sparring sessions?".