Godslayer's Legacy: THE PATH TO SUPREMACY

The Kirean estate had always been a sanctuary, a place of quiet learning and measured power, but for Rui, the years between seven and twelve were far from tranquil. They had been years of growth, both steady and unpredictable.

By the time Rui turned twelve, his life was vastly different. The world outside the estate loomed closer than ever, with rumors and whispers of his silver core continuing to ripple through the noble circles. Yet, within the estate, Rui's days were shaped by a routine that balanced rigorous training, lessons in politics and history, and fleeting moments of childhood he could grasp with the other noble children.

Rui's mornings began at dawn. His father, Soren, had insisted on physical conditioning becoming part of his daily routine. "Strength is not just in magic," Soren often reminded him. "It's in the body, in endurance. Without it, you'll crumble under your own potential."

Training sessions in the courtyard were grueling. Sparring with wooden swords, obstacle courses, and endurance drills were meant to push him to his limits. His silver core had granted him an advantage—greater stamina, sharper reflexes—but it came with its challenges. Using his mana to enhance his physical abilities was dangerous if overused, and Rui had learned the hard way. A faint scar on his arm from an overloaded spar served as a reminder that his core was both a gift and a restraint.

Despite the intensity, Rui never shirked the work. He understood its purpose, even when he stumbled, even when his muscles burned. He wasn't just training for himself—he was training for the expectations that now rested on his shoulders.

After his morning drills, Rui spent hours in the estate's grand study. Lessons were divided between his mother, Arielle, and visiting scholars. Arielle focused on diplomacy and history, weaving tales of alliances forged and broken, wars won with wit as much as steel, and the delicate balance that kept noble houses in power.

"Power is fleeting if wielded carelessly," Arielle told him one afternoon as they studied a map of the noble territories. Her fingers traced the edges of the Kirean lands, her expression contemplative. "The world doesn't fear power, Rui. It fears those who know how to use it wisely."

Rui's scholarly pursuits extended beyond the traditional curriculum. His interest in mana refinement grew deeper, spurred on by his unique awakening. Under the guidance of Master Vynar, the estate's chief scribe, Rui delved into forgotten texts and obscure theories. It was Vynar who encouraged Rui to think beyond his core's potential and into its implications.

"Tempered mana is not just a reflection of refinement," Vynar explained during one of their long sessions in the library. "It's a responsibility. You wield something few can comprehend, and that makes you both an asset and a target."

Though his days were often consumed by training and study, Rui still found time to interact with the other children of the estate. Liora, now fifteen, had become a constant presence. Her sharp wit and daring nature were a foil to Rui's calm demeanor, and their friendship had grown into something steady and unspoken.

It was Liora who often dragged Rui away from his books or training, pulling him into games with the younger children or sneaking him into the kitchens for stolen treats. "You'll thank me when you're not some stiff-backed mage with no idea how to live," she teased one day, tossing him a fresh pastry.

Amara Velare, whose Crimson Core had drawn almost as much attention as Rui's silver one, had also visited the estate a few times over the years. Their interactions were polite but charged, an unspoken rivalry threading through their conversations. Rui respected her drive, but her ambition sometimes felt suffocating, a constant reminder of what others expected him to become.

The estate, once a place of quiet solitude, had become busier as Rui grew older. Letters from noble houses arrived almost weekly, invitations and veiled inquiries masked as polite correspondence. Soren handled them with curt replies, while Arielle chose her words more carefully, maintaining the balance of diplomacy that kept the Kireans at arm's length from those who sought to exploit Rui.

Occasionally, visitors arrived unannounced—scholars seeking knowledge, nobles testing the waters of alliances, even soldiers who came under the pretense of delivering news. Each visit was another reminder of how closely Rui's life was watched, even from afar.

It was during one such visit that Rui overheard a conversation between his parents. Hidden behind a tapestry, he listened as Soren and Arielle debated the next steps for his education.

"He's twelve now," Soren said, his tone clipped. "It's time he steps beyond the estate. He needs to see the world as it is, not as we shelter him from it."

Arielle's reply was softer but no less firm. "And throw him into the Academy where every noble child will measure him against their expectations? He's strong, Soren, but he's not invulnerable."

"He'll never be ready if we keep him here," Soren countered. "The Academy will test him, yes, but it will also prepare him. Keeping him here will only make the pressure worse."

Rui slipped away before he could hear more, the weight of their words settling heavily on him.