Eren discovered the truth by accident.
He stood at the edge of the safe house balcony long after midnight, eyes half-lidded, breath steady, senses open. He wasn't searching for guards—not consciously.
He was searching for attention.
There was none.
No patrol routes traced the grounds around his residence. No mana signatures hovered nearby. No surveillance arts brushed against his Calm Mind. Even the ambient flow of Veridian mana—so dense around the main estate—thinned to almost nothing here.
He stepped forward.
Nothing reacted.
"…They really don't watch this place," he murmured.
Not because they trusted him.
Because he wasn't worth tracking.
That realization settled comfortably.
Freedom born of neglect was still freedom.
Leaving
Sneaking out was almost insulting in its simplicity.
A cracked section of the outer wall—never repaired. A narrow path overgrown with brush where no footsteps ever fell. Beyond it, the land dipped naturally, obscuring line of sight from the main house entirely.
Eren moved without hurry.
No stealth arts.No shadows.No deception.
Just timing and indifference.
The Veridian estate disappeared behind him within minutes.
For the first time since arriving in this world, he walked without walls defining his direction.
Training Begins
He chose a clearing several kilometers away, hidden by uneven terrain and dense tree cover. Mana was thin here—unrefined, wild, unclaimed.
Perfect.
Eren planted his feet and closed his eyes.
Training did not begin with strength.
It began with breathing.
He drew mana inward slowly, not forcing it, not commanding it—just observing how it moved. Unlike Amplifier Mana, his flow resisted pressure. It dispersed when rushed, stabilized when left alone.
So he adjusted.
Hours passed.
By sunrise, sweat clung to his back and arms trembled faintly—not from exhaustion, but from unfamiliar exertion.
He moved next.
Basic sword forms.Over and over.No mana enhancement.
Each swing precise. Each stance corrected manually. When his arms failed, he stopped. When his breathing faltered, he rested.
No pushing past collapse.
Pain was information—not a goal.
By the third day, something changed.
Not dramatically.
But measurably.
His muscles no longer screamed at the same threshold. His breathing recovered faster. When he drew mana, it lingered—thin, fragile, but present.
He checked his status window only once.
Strength: F → F+Mana: F → F+
He nodded.
"Acceptable."
Understanding His Growth
Raising rank was not about explosive gain.
It was about stability.
Every improvement reinforced the next:
Stronger muscles held mana longer
Mana circulation reduced physical fatigue
Calm Mind prevented backlash
By the end of the second week, he could complete a full training cycle without collapse. By the third, he could infuse a sword swing lightly—barely visible, but consistent.
Not powerful.
Reliable.
That mattered more.
Returning Unnoticed
Eren returned before dawn each time.
No alarms sounded.
No questions followed.
The servant delivered rations as usual, unaware that the Young Master before him was no longer stagnant.
The Veridian clan slept soundly.
Their discarded son trained in silence.
Resolution
Standing once more in the safe house study, Eren wiped sweat from his brow and looked at the shelves.
He was still weak.
Still F-rank by noble standards.
But now, he was moving forward.
And that was something the novel had never allowed Eren Veridian to do.
"…Next," he said quietly.
The dungeon was far.
Black Nox was dangerous.
But now—
He was no longer starting from zero.