Arion woke to the gentle scent of roses and mint curling through his room.
A rare calm settled over his restless mind—he hadn't felt this peaceful since before the incident at his birthday. His parents had long since risen, leaving him to sleep undisturbed.
They knew he deserved the rest.
But the calm didn't last. Memories of last night's dream clung stubbornly—sharp and vivid. The giant dagger was the same one he had picked up before his rebirth, only larger now, looming like a monument.
The pain… it felt so real, he thought.
Not a dream. A long-forgotten memory.
A cold dread pressed down on him. If he wasn't strong enough—if he didn't make the sacrifices the dagger demanded—that would be his end.
He wasn't exactly thrilled at the prospect of becoming altar decor: strapped to stone, some cult lunatic elbow-deep in his chest, heart hoisted like a trophy. Very poetic. Very tragic.
Not exactly on his bucket list.
But the alternative wasn't much better.
Offer up an innocent girl to whatever ancient horror sat behind that cosmic meat grinder and hope that earned him a few more years of breathing?
Oh yes. Very noble. Very divine.
Because nothing said "worthy heir" like ritual sacrifice and morally flexible survival.
Would it even earn him a few more years of breathing?
He could practically hear the bards composing already. Arion the Merciful, Slayer of Maidens for Cosmic Approval, he muttered inwardly.
The family crest would have to be redesigned: a dagger, a girl, and a shrug.
No. He wasn't strong enough—yet—but he'd climb, claw, and curse his way there before he let that dream become reality.
If that was the price of survival, he'd take his chances without divine sponsorship.
He started his day as usual: lessons to prepare him to be the lord everyone expected, followed by grueling training with Commander Marius and the knights.
Today, however, his father was waiting with Marius.
"Father, here to enjoy the view?" Arion asked, smirking.
Lord Sued smiled. "Good to hear you joke—I was worried yesterday. You nearly wet the bed from fear of sleeping alone."
Commander Marius barked a laugh.
Arion flushed. "What? I didn't! Stop lying."
Marius gave a side glance but said nothing.
"Then why did you sneak into our room last night?" Lord Sued asked, eyes twinkling.
"I didn't!" Arion shot back, fuming. "How old do you think I am?"
"Older than you think, little one," his father said with a laugh.
"I said I didn't!"
"Fine, no bedwetting," Lord Sued relented. "Now—ready for your new training?"
"What training? I've been training all along, while you rested in the capital," Arion snapped.
"No, that was only the warm-up. The real training starts today. And once it begins, you won't be able to turn back—even if you beg for mercy," his father said, a strange smile curling on his lips.
"Think I can't handle it?" Arion laughed.
Lord Sued and Commander Marius exchanged a knowing glance and chuckled.
"We'll see what you say by day's end," his father replied—still smiling, though behind it lay a secret only he understood: the heavy trials Arion would soon face.
Commander Marius led Arion into the foothills of a rocky mountain.
"Climb it," he said simply.
Arion stared up at the jagged stone. "You must be joking. There's no way. I'll die!"
"Well then," Marius said, cracking his knuckles, "you'd better hold on."
Before Arion could protest, the commander grabbed him by the collar and hurled him skyward.
He hit the rock with a jolt, scrambling wildly for a grip. His fingers scraped at rough stone.
"You crazy old man!" Arion shouted. "You trying to kill me? Help! I'm slipping!"
"You're not that high. You'll bounce," Marius called back, laughing.
"I'm serious! I'm gonna fall—nooo—"
He fell.
With a thud, his small frame smacked the ground. His head spun. Dazed and groaning, he sat up just in time to hear Marius howling with laughter.
"You—mad—bastard!" Arion sputtered.
That was a mistake.
Marius's laughter cut off. His brow furrowed. Without a word, he grabbed Arion again and hurled him even higher.
"Now you'll die if you fall," the old commander said cheerfully. "So if you want to live—climb. Don't even think about coming down."
The grin on his face was pure evil.
Arion stared down in horror—then up at the impossible climb ahead.
"Stupid old man," he muttered. "Stinky fart… wrinkled sack of—"
A thick tree branch cracked against the stone just inches from his face. He froze.
"I said climb. Not complain," Marius's voice echoed from below.
Grumbling, Arion resumed his ascent.
"And if you don't reach the top by nightfall," Marius added, "no dinner."
"What?! You—"
He stopped as Marius raised another branch.
"Good luck, young lord!" the commander called. "I'll be waiting at the summit. If you're late, I'll eat your food."
He vanished into the forest, laughter trailing behind him.
Arion sighed, clinging to the rock. "Just wait, you old monster. One day I'll throw you up a mountain…"
And so he climbed. One rock at a time.
Not just the mountain—but the long, cruel slope of becoming stronger.