Chapter 12: RIVALS

The fire crackled softly in the East Wing Study, casting long shadows across the walls. Logan sat with his back straight, the silence between him and Lady Mirena growing heavier with every passing second.

Her gaze didn’t waver. “Well?” she asked again, her voice calm but pressing. “Do you seek the throne of the Smith family?”

Logan looked into her eyes—not cold like Rudeous’s or warm like Alice’s, but something in between. Sharp. Calculating.

“No,” he said finally. “I don’t want the throne.”

Mirena didn’t blink.

“I want to learn magic,” Logan continued, voice steady. “I want to master every element I can. Explore the world. Grow stronger. Maybe even go adventuring. But ruling? Sitting on a throne? That’s not for me.”

Mirena’s fingers tightened slightly on her teacup. A flicker of relief crossed her face—quick, subtle. But it didn’t last long.

“I see,” she said slowly. “And yet, intentions change, Logan. Especially in the hearts of the strong.”

“I won’t change mine,” he replied. “I never asked to be part of your politics. I only want to get better. That’s all.”

I have already seen enough of the dark sides of these so-called politics, thirst for power to control others, thrones and whatever. I don’t want to lose anyone for these stupid things or even want to waste time behind these either. My past life was enough, Logan thought to himself.

A small smile tugged at her lips. “That makes me happy to hear. But I’d be a fool not to remain cautious.”

Logan stood. “No need to be so cautious, Lady Mirena. You will never face any obstacle from my side at least, unless you become one for me. And about the throne. I have no plan on being restricted. I love my freedom.”

She chuckled softly. “You’ve grown, indeed.”

As he walked toward the door, she spoke again—soft but clear. “The tutor arrives tomorrow. For Darius.”

Logan paused but didn’t look back. “Good. He deserves a proper teacher.”

He left the room, leaving behind only the firelight and Mirena’s silent thoughts.

The next morning came with a different energy. The air buzzed—not with mana, but with anticipation.

In the courtyard, training resumed as always—but this time, eyes were everywhere.

Logan stood at one end of the field, calm and ready. Before him, wooden dummies lined up in a straight row, their surfaces already scorched and sliced from earlier sessions.

He raised one hand and exhaled slowly.

A fireball formed in his palm, glowing orange-red.

With a flick, it flew forward—but before hitting the dummy, he swept his other hand sideways. A sharp wave of air followed, slicing through the fireball.

The result: the flames split into five smaller ones, each hitting a different target.

“Nice,” Ardyn Vex muttered, arms crossed from the sidelines.

Without pause, Logan snapped his fingers. A whip of water formed beside him, coiling like a serpent. He spun and slashed—freezing the water mid-air into a blade, which he then flung toward a target.

The blade pierced the wooden chest, freezing it instantly.

Then, he raised his hand. A subtle shimmer spread across the ground.

Gravity magic.

The air grew heavy around one of the dummies—it creaked, splintered, and collapsed under invisible weight.

Logan moved like a dancer—flowing between spells with precision and instinct. Each element answered his call like a loyal hound.

Alice clapped from the sidelines, beaming. Rudeous gave a single approving nod.

Then the whispers started.

A man in silver robes entered the courtyard, flanked by two guards.

Tall. Muscular. Sharp blue eyes that looked like they could see through lies. A mana-inscribed staff hung across his back.

“That’s him,” Kael, Ardyn whispered. “The war mage. The one who trained royal guards.”

“You know him?” asked Logan.

“Know him! We were best buddies once.”

“Were?”

“Yeah. Were. Then we became rivals,” said Ardyn.

Lady Mirena walked beside him. Her expression unreadable.

“Everyone,” she called out. “Meet Kael Thorne. He’ll be tutoring Darius from now on.”

Logan turned as Darius stepped forward. No longer sulking—he looked focused. Sharp. Almost dangerous.

“I’m ready,” Darius said.

Kael looked towards Ardyn, then at Logan. But didn’t say anything. His eyes were totally expressionless. Then he turned toward Darius.

Kael gave him a long look, then nodded. “Let’s begin.”

The courtyard split. While Logan continued his elemental displays, Darius moved to the opposite end with Kael.

Kael didn’t go easy.

He summoned a column of stone, raised a fire ring, then scattered wooden targets across the field.

“Attack,” he said simply.

Darius’s eyes glowed faintly.

He stepped forward, fists igniting with controlled flame. A blast of fire shot forward—too wide. Kael narrowed his eyes.

“Again. Tighter.”

Darius gritted his teeth. This time, he punched the air—channeling both fire and wind. The blast came sharper, the edge of it slicing the nearest target in half.

He moved faster, sweat rolling down his brow. Blades of air followed every sword slash he threw. Fireballs mixed with gravity-enhanced thrusts.

He stumbled once—overreaching a combination—but quickly recovered.

Kael didn’t compliment. He only nodded slightly. “You’re not Logan,” he said, “but you’re far from weak.”

Darius’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. He returned to his stance, but cursing Logan in his mind.

The two ends of the courtyard burned and crackled with magic. The difference was clear—Logan’s spells were fluid, elegant. Darius’s were forceful, fiery. But both burned with resolve.

That night, Logan stood outside, looking up at the stars. The courtyard was quiet now. Only the smell of burnt wood lingered.

Alice approached from behind, arms crossed.

“I heard you made a choice yesterday,” she said.

Logan nodded. “I just want to live my life.”

“I know,” she said softly. “But even lives like that… come with consequences.”

He looked at her. “Are you worried I’ll change my mind?”

She hesitated. “No. But others might worry.”

Logan smiled. “Then let them.”

The training continued like this. Both Logan and Darius continued advancing in their own ways. Every day they would start training even before the sun rose and continue up to the afternoon. After that, normally Logan would call it a day.

Hmph! Talent got in his head. He thinks he can slack off just because he got five elementals. Seeing Logan calling off his training early every day, Kael thought he was slacking. But what he didn’t know was what Logan was actually doing after magic training every day. If he knew, he wouldn’t dare think like that.

On the other hand, Darius kept training even after Logan left. He wanted to catch up to Logan. And then surpass him. Kael also kept pushing Darius harder. He had a separate goal in his mind. Which he didn’t reveal yet. Not even to Darius.

Life continued like this.

The sun would wake up every day and find Logan and Darius already training. Burning, slashing, slamming the grounds and the targets like they both had some personal grievances with them. And it would go down every day while watching them still continuing their cruel work.

And days passed like this. Then weeks. Then months.

And finally, after six months of training, during dinner time in the evening when both Logan and Darius were eating separately,

a loud voice rang from the main hall.

“Logan! Darius!”

It was Kael.

The boys appeared at opposite ends of the hallway.

Kael’s voice boomed. “Tomorrow morning. You two will spar. Officially. Controlled duel. No holding back.”

Darius’s eyes flared.

Logan didn’t react. He simply nodded.

Alice’s heart skipped a beat. She was beside Logan, enjoying dinner with her dearest like every usual day.

Mirena, watching from the shadows above the stairway, said nothing. But her lips pressed into a thin line.

To Be Continued.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep