You’re going to die with my training

As I made my way to the dining room, my stomach twisted not from hunger but from a mix of excitement and nerves.

The morning had been exhausting. My first real lesson with Lady Amara had left me feeling both drained and determined, like a rubber band stretched too far but not quite broken.

The ornate wooden doors to the dining room loomed ahead, and I paused for a moment to gather myself. 

I could already hear the muffled voices of my parents and Galen inside. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open. The scent of roasted meats, fresh bread, and herbs immediately hit me, and despite everything, my stomach grumbled in response.

Inside, my parents were seated at the long, polished dining table. My father sat at the head, his tall frame and broad shoulders as imposing as ever.

His short-cropped dark hair and beard gave him a look of both wisdom and authority, while his sharp green eyes sparkled with curiosity as I entered.

My mother, with her regal posture and soft smile, was seated beside him, dressed in her usual elegant gown. Galen, of course, was slouched in his seat, already picking at the bread on the table. 

"There she is," my father boomed, his deep voice filling the room. "Our little scholar."

Galen snorted. "Yeah, the new bookworm of the family."

I rolled my eyes, trying to keep the mood light. "More like barely surviving my first lesson," I muttered as I took my seat across from Galen. My mother's eyes were fixed on me, warm but assessing.

"How was it, dear?" she asked, pouring me a glass of water. "Your first lesson, I mean."

I took a sip, stalling for a moment before answering. "It was… a bit difficult," I admitted. "Lady Amara's teaching is.....uh...thorough."

"Thorough, huh?" Galen grinned, already anticipating my struggle. "You mean she's already crushed your spirit?"

"Not quite," I shot back, narrowing my eyes at him. "Just bruised it a little."

My father leaned in, folding his hands on the table. "It'll get easier, Ren. You're smart. You'll catch up in no time."

I forced a smile, nodding, but the truth was far more complicated than that. A flash of my old life surged to the surface, unbidden. Back when I was still a university student, things had been different. I hadn't exactly been what you'd call "studious."

Most of my time had been spent skipping lectures, lounging in the library pretending to study, or just playing basketball.

My grades had been average at best, just enough to scrape by. Studying had never been something I was passionate about. I hadn't failed out of university, but I certainly hadn't excelled either. 

And now here I was, in a world where I not only had to learn to read again but also unlock some kind of magical potential? The weight of it was almost suffocating, but I couldn't let them see that. I couldn't let myself see that.

"Ren, you're staring into space," my mother's voice cut through my thoughts. I blinked, focusing on her. "Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said quickly, grabbing a piece of bread. "Just… thinking."

As the meal was served, a variety of dishes were placed on the table roasted chicken, steamed vegetables, and buttery mashed potatoes, among other delicacies. My stomach growled, and despite my lingering exhaustion, I reached for the food.

But before I could take much more than a few bites, my mother's sharp eyes fell on me. "You're not eating enough, Ren. After being ill for so long, you need your strength. Eat more."

I frowned, glancing at the heaping plate she'd prepared for me. "I'm not that hungry, though."

"Nonsense!" my father chimed in, his brow furrowing. "You've been bedridden for days. You need to regain your strength."

"I'm really not hungry," I insisted, feeling the pressure from both of them. "I already ate some bread and chicken. I'm fine."

"You've barely touched the potatoes," my mother pointed out, her voice taking on that familiar, no-nonsense tone. "And you need more protein."

Galen smirked from across the table, clearly enjoying my predicament. I shot him a glare before turning back to my parents.

"I'll eat more later," I promised, pushing the plate slightly away from me. "I don't want to overdo it right now."

My father exchanged a look with my mother, and for a moment, I thought they were going to keep pushing. But, to my surprise, my mother relented with a sigh. "Fine. But make sure you eat enough later."

I couldn't help but smile, victorious. Galen, however, seemed a little too pleased with himself as he muttered, "You always manage to get your way, don't you?"

"Only because I'm smarter than you," I shot back playfully, sticking my tongue out at him.

Just as I was about to take another sip of water, my father leaned back in his chair, his expression growing more serious. "Ren," he began, "your magic teacher is waiting for you in the knight training zone."

I blinked in confusion. "The knight training zone? For magic?"

My mother nodded, folding her hands neatly in her lap. "Yes. It's best to train magic where physical exertion is also encouraged. You'll understand soon enough."

That sounded… odd. But then again, this whole world was odd, so maybe this was just how things worked here. I nodded, finishing my water before standing up. "Alright then. Let's see what this magic training is all about."

After bidding my parents and Galen a quick goodbye, I made my way toward the training grounds. The servant who had guided me earlier appeared once again, leading me through a maze of hallways until we stepped out into a wide-open courtyard.

The knight training zone was vast, much larger than I had imagined. Rows of dummies lined one side, some charred as if burned by fire or struck by lightning.

Large stone pillars stood in the middle of the grounds, some broken or crumbled from what appeared to be previous training sessions.

The ground was packed earth, hardened by countless footsteps and battles, with scorch marks and deep gouges in the dirt.

The air smelled of sweat and iron, and the sound of clashing swords echoed faintly in the distance as knights sparred nearby.

At the far end of the training grounds stood a woman. Even from a distance, she was imposing, and as I got closer, the sheer presence of her made me pause.

She was tall easily over six feet her muscular frame radiating strength and power. Her short, spiked red hair framed her sharp, angular face, and her golden eyes gleamed with intensity.

She wore a simple but well-fitted black tunic, with armor plating on her shoulders and forearms.

Her stance was casual, but there was something about the way she held herself that screamed danger. It was as if she could snap you in half without a second thought.

Her gaze fell on me, and I instantly felt small. My breath hitched slightly, and I straightened my posture, trying to look less intimidated than I felt. This woman was my magic teacher?

Before I could say anything, she stepped forward, her eyes narrowing as she looked me up and down, assessing me in a way that made me feel like a bug under a microscope. Then, she spoke, her voice rough and commanding, but with a hint of amusement.

"I'm Elira Krenan," she said, crossing her arms over her broad chest. "And be ready, because you're going to die with my training."

Her words hung in the air, sending a shiver down my spine. This was going to be intense.