When Geehrt returned to the estate that afternoon with the ragged stranger in tow, the atmosphere in the main hall shifted instantly.
Kanone, who had been residing in the mansion to oversee Geehrt's daily regimen, froze when she saw who had accompanied her student home.
As a high-ranking Imperial Mage and the Lieutenant of the Magic Special Forces, she made it her business to know the faces of every dangerous individual within the Kingdom.
She recognized the man beneath the rags immediately. She knew exactly who Wehrlos was.
Wehrlos returned her gaze with a calm, knowing look. He evidently recognized her as well, but neither of them spoke a word about their true identities in front of the boy.
Kanone knew that Wehrlos was currently a member of the Shadow Warriors, the lethal assassins who protected the Empire from the dark, doing the dirty work that knights and mages could not be seen doing.
Geehrt seemed entirely unbothered by the thick tension filling the room. He simply gestured between the two deadly adults.
"Kanone, this is Wehrlos," Geehrt introduced them casually. "He is going to stay with us for a year. He will be taking over my weapons training as well as teaching me his melee fighting style. Wehrlos, this is Kanone. She is my master in magic. May you please coordinate with each other to incorporate both training styles into my schedule? Thank you."
With that simple instruction, Geehrt left Kanone and Wehrlos alone in the hall.
He did not care that they clearly knew each other, nor did he care about the politics of their respective organizations.
He simply walked straight up the stairs to his room, eager to study the holy scripture he had purchased in the plaza.
The moment Geehrt was out of earshot, Kanone's entire demeanor shifted. Her posture stiffened, and her eyes narrowed into a glare of pure hostility.
Her hand snapped to her wand, gripping it tightly as she prepared for a potential attack. She knew that a member of the Shadow Warriors would not infiltrate a noble house without a dark purpose.
"What do you want with Master Geehrt?" Kanone questioned, her voice dropping to a harsh, threatening whisper. She looked at him with deep suspicion, ready to cast a lethal spell at the slightest provocation.
"Nothing more than what I said," Wehrlos replied. He did not reach for a weapon, nor did he flinch at her aggression. "The boy intrigued me. You can rest assured, Mage. This is nothing more than me wanting to impart my own knowledge and legacy before I die. I know that once someone has become part of the shadows, there is no coming back to the light. I simply want to leave something behind."
Wehrlos sounded sincere, but Kanone did not lower her guard completely. She watched as the assassin walked over to the tea table, sat down comfortably, and poured himself a drink. He then took a piece of parchment and a quill and began writing down a list.
"This is what I intend to incorporate into the boy's training," Wehrlos said, sliding the paper across the table.
Kanone picked it up and read the list. It included heavy weapon mastery, speed enhancement, stealth, and assassination arts.
However, the last item on the list made her pause. He intended to build Geehrt's resistance to lethal poisons by ingesting small doses daily. It was a staple of warrior training for those who lived in the wild, but it was incredibly dangerous.
"This is cruel," Kanone remarked, looking at the brutal regimen. "Some of these exercises are borderline suicidal."
She looked up at the ceiling, thinking of the boy upstairs. Then, she remembered who she was talking about.
She remembered the infinite mana, the terrifying perception of the Six Eyes, and the sheer durability Geehrt had shown over the last year.
"Actually," Kanone corrected herself, placing the paper down. "Considering it is Geehrt, this might not even be enough to push him to his limits."
Kanone finally relaxed her stance, though she remained alert. She sat opposite Wehrlos and began explaining the magical conditioning Geehrt was already undergoing.
When Wehrlos saw the intensity of her magical training, he nodded in approval and adjusted his own physical routine to fit perfectly within the gaps of her schedule.
By the time the sun set, the two instructors had finalized a hellish curriculum. The next day would mark the beginning of a new era in Geehrt's life, where he would be forged by both one of the Empire's strongest mages and one of its deadliest assassins.
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Over the course of the following year, Geehrt's life was stripped of all leisure. He did not have a single moment of free time as he began to experience a level of training that would have broken fully grown men.
It was the harshest regimen that both warriors and mages could endure, combined into a single, suffocating schedule.
The only small windows of time he had to himself were when he was eating or sleeping, and even those were not safe.
Wehrlos, determined to hone the boy's instincts to a razor's edge, would frequently launch lethal sneak attacks at Geehrt while he was trying to rest or eat his meals.
This forced Geehrt to maintain a state of high alertness twenty-four hours a day, never allowing his guard to drop for even a second.
Consequently, the only time Geehrt could read the holy scripture he had purchased was by stealing precious minutes from his already limited sleep.
However, much to the dismay and frustration of Kanone and Wehrlos, Geehrt's talent was simply too overwhelming.
His ability to adapt to their training routines was unnatural. If Wehrlos used a specific feint or Kanone utilized a complex spell pattern during a spar, Geehrt would analyze it instantly.
By the next bout, that specific move would never work on him again. This forced the two instructors to constantly adjust their methods.
They had to make the training harsher, faster, and more unpredictable just to ensure that Geehrt continued to grow rather than stagnate.
Despite the increased brutality of the sparring, Geehrt managed to negate the long-term damage to his body.
Every night, after a long day of being beaten, bruised, and exhausted, he would heal himself.
He had successfully deciphered the texts within the scripture and learned how to utilize the available holy spells.
In this world, the power of holy magic relied entirely on the user's faith in the Goddess. For most priests, this required years of devotion and prayer.
For Geehrt, it was simple. He did not need blind faith because he possessed something better. He had absolute certainty.
He knew without a shadow of a doubt that the Goddess of Creation was real because she was the very entity who had spoken to him and reincarnated him into this anime world.
This absolute knowledge acted as the purest form of faith, making his healing magic incredibly potent.
Kanone and Wehrlos remained completely unaware of this secret ability. They assumed his quick recovery was due to his natural resilience. They did not know that the first thing Geehrt did every night was set up a barrier.
He utilized a high-level stealth spell, the same one that the corrupt priest Heiter had used in the stories. This spell completely masked the signature of any magic used within its vicinity.
It was undetectable, allowing Geehrt to bathe his room in holy light and mend his wounds right under the noses of his unsuspecting masters.
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Four years had passed since the day the assassin joined their household. Geehrt now stood in the center of the training grounds, facing both Wehrlos and Kanone.
The atmosphere was heavy with anticipation. Unlike their previous sessions, today was different.
There were no weights on Geehrt's limbs, no prohibited spells, and absolutely no restrictions on the amount of mana he was allowed to output.
This sparring session served as a pseudo graduation ceremony. Wehrlos was preparing to leave the estate permanently, having received a summons from the Shadow Warriors regarding an urgent mission that required his specific set of skills.
Meanwhile, Kanone had come to the humbling realization that her student had surpassed her in terms of raw power and magical capacity.
She knew that holding his hand any longer would only stifle his growth.
However, despite Geehrt's monstrous talent, his masters knew he still lacked one crucial element. He lacked true combat experience.
He did not yet understand the dirty, desperate lengths that weaker opponents would go to just to survive or win. This fight was their final gift to him.
They intended to fight him together, utilizing every underhanded tactic and synchronized combination they possessed to teach him the consequences of underestimation and distraction.
They did not wait for a formal signal.
Kanone moved first. She instantly summoned a blinding flash of lightning, a spell designed to overload the senses rather than kill.
It was a distraction. perfectly timed with her partner's movement.
At the exact moment the light flared, Wehrlos dashed forward. He moved like a phantom, utilizing the momentary blindness to close the distance and strike.
Geehrt did not flinch. His Six Eyes saw through the blinding light and tracked the assassin's trajectory.
As Wehrlos swung his heavy axe in a vicious arc, attempting to hook Geehrt's sword guard and disarm him, Geehrt reacted.
He twisted his wrist, locking his blade against the axe head and forcing Wehrlos back with a burst of reinforced physical strength.
Geehrt was prepared to counterattack, but his senses screamed a warning.
While he was engaged with the assassin, Kanone had silently levitated a heavy stone, reinforced it with dense mana, and fired it like a cannonball toward his blind spot.
Geehrt did not panic. Without turning his head, he expanded his mana and erected a geometric barrier on his left side.
The stone projectile shattered against the golden wall, turning into dust upon impact.
Seizing the opening, Geehrt went on the offensive. He raised his free hand and fired two beams of Zoltraak simultaneously.
The spells tore through the air toward Kanone, forcing the mage to abandon her next attack and raise a defensive shield.
At the same time, Geehrt stepped in, clashing his sword against Wehrlos's axe in a flurry of sparks.
The battle escalated quickly, turning the training ground into a chaotic storm of magic and steel.
The ground cracked under the pressure of their movements, and the air smelled of ozone and burnt grass.
The destruction was immense, yet amidst the lethal spells and deadly swings, a strange phenomenon occurred.
They were so focused, so immersed in the thrill of a battle between high-level combatants, that none of them realized they were making the same expression.
Geehrt, Kanone, and Wehrlos were all grinning with pure, unadulterated excitement.