Neron was caught in a dilemma.

He didn’t know how to properly answer the question that his father

/master posed.

‘Have I really used a Spell before?’

If he meant Magic, then yes. Neron had tried using Magic when he was much younger, and he found it to be quite easy.

Of course, he had only tried basic things like conjuring flames or creating small wind torrents.

… Nothing too crazy.

‘But a Spell like Fireball? No way…’

Fireball was so specific… too precise—something that his previous experience with Magic lacked.

Compared to his vague attempts of the past, this felt way more authentic and natural.

The Mana wasn’t erratic, and it wasn’t in a constant state of flux.

It was difficult to explain, but Neron knew it was different.

“Come on, answer me! You’ve performed a Spell before, right?”

“Sorta…”

Neron felt like that was the best answer he could possibly give.

“Sorta? What does that even mean?!”

As a child, Neron couldn’t possibly understand the frustration that Mordred was experiencing.

For a Mage, precision was everything!

They had to be very precise in their use of Mana and Spells. Every word they uttered had to be specific, while also being concise.

Operating in such an adept manner, it was naturally expected for Mages to communicate in the most explicit way possible—conveying the most information in the shortest length of time.

Yet… YET…!!!

‘Why isn’t he saying any more?’ Mordred wondered internally.

He was too inexperienced to understand the rigors of fatherhood that awaited him.

As the new dad of a five-year-old child, his journey was also only just beginning.

********

It took a few more hours for the two of them to arrive at an understanding, though it felt like an eternity.

Mordred finally understood more about Neron’s backstory and his experiences with Magic, while Neron was able to understand what Mordred expected of him in terms of communication—among other things—in the future.

Once it was all over, the two of them were plenty exhausted.

“I think we should stop here for today.”

“I can still keep going, though.” Neron replied stubbornly.

“A-ahh… I don’t think I can. Haha! Besides, I should probably say this now, but our time training together will be quite brief. Perhaps just three hours a day.”

“Just three?!”

At this point, Neron was shocked.

He had expected the retired Grand Mage to have more passion for Magic than what he was displaying.

Right now it even seemed like Neron was the one who loved Magic more.

“I have my reasons. If you want more time, then study hard and practice on your own. If I see major improvements, I’ll extend our time together.”

Most students would try to find ways to ditch class and get more breaks, but the opposite seemed to be the case for Neron.

His reward was more work.

“Alright! I understand. I’ll do my best!”

The cool fire burning in Neron’s pitch black eyes flickered for a moment before dissipating.

“Perfect! I’ll have Aldred bring some books to you so you can study on your own.”

“Aldred? He’s a Mage too, right?”

“Yep! He may not look it, but he was an Adventurer when he was much younger.”

Neron pictured the graceful face of their family butler, and he truly didn’t resemble what an Adventurer would look like.

Adventurers were essentially mercenaries who hunted monsters and raided Dungeons—stuff like that.

Neron didn’t know too much about them, but he certainly knew they were reputed to be a rowdy bunch.

Aldred didn’t seem like the type to associate with those kinds of people, talkless of being one himself.

“You’d do well not to judge a book by its cover. I mean, look at you for example. You looked so… well…”

“Unsightly?”

“…Yeah, unsightly. You looked unsightly when I first found you, and now look at you my son. You look like a handsome young prince!”

Neron felt heat rising in his five-year-old cheeks.

The words of his adopted father had affected him way more than he would have expected.

“Maybe ask Aldred to tell you some Adventurer tales when you guys speak. He’ll be supervising your training and studying when I’m not around.” Mordred added.

Neron felt a little confused at this point.

“I thought you were retired. Don’t you have all day to yourself now? Why can’t you spend more time with me?”

It didn’t make sense that Mordred would be so busy since he currently had nothing occupying him.

So why…?

“I’ve been working my butt off for so many years, Neron. A man needs his rest!”

To Neron, that loosely translated to one thing.

“So you want to slack off?”

“Precisely! I guess that’s one way of putting it…” Mordred winked at Neron.

The boy appeared a little downcast by the answer he received, but Mordred’s adult hands soon landed on his head and roughed his dark hair a little.

“H-hey!” Neron tried to struggle, but it was useless.

“Haha! Looks like my dear son wants to hang out with his old man that much.”

“W-well, yeah. You’re the only family I have left…”

Neron’s trembling tone made it appear like he was going to cry.

However, he didn’t.

In response to this sudden outburst, Mordred went to his knees and made sure he was as close to Neron’s height as he possible could.

“Hey… don’t sweat it, kid. You should consider everyone in this Household as a part of your family.”

Mordred rubbed Neron’s head a little more and chuckled a little.

“My adorable little boy…” There was a certain hint of fondness mixed with sadness in his tone.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere…”

His smile widened more.

“You know that… right?”

Neron nodded slowly at the words of his father.

“Good. Now why don’t we end this class today, and tomorrow we’ll pick up from where we left off?”

“Okay!”

Neron seemed to be in a much better mood now, and that made all the difference to Mordred.

“Okay.” Mordred responded with a toothy grin.

All the words that needed to be said had been uttered.

Nothing more… nothing less.

*

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