"There have been other Faintborns, handpicked for missions like this. But it didn’t end well."
Halwen folded his hands.
“Officially, the Reich neither protects nor persecutes your kind. The public is left to respond as they will. Most with pity, avoidance, or hatred.”
“That is because the Reich refuse to treat Faintborns as defects. In our eyes, they are normal and deserve to be treated as such. No limits, no unfair advantages. Equal in the eyes of the law.”
“The Imperium twisted that equality into slander, claiming Faintborns were treated as second-class citizens in the Reich. In response, they did the opposite, pandering and parading Faintborns like prized property, promising comfort, wealth, and status. But there is no honor in that. It is only a facade, a gift handed out by birth alone, and to me, that is disgusting.”
“They do, however, possess a method to identify Faintborns with certainty. We attempted substitutes, operatives modified through spirit manipulation to mimic them. On paper, they were indistinguishable from the real thing. Yet the Imperium always knew, and the fate of those poor agents… was complicated.”
He looked at the two girls. Their expressions showed quiet attention, focused and alert.
“In a way, the Arkmarschall is placing his trust in you both—not only that you can carry out the operation, but that you will remain loyal to the Reich.”
Another trust, Vierna thought.
Even when I helped in the orphanage, they only let me. No real responsibility. No real faith. But here? Real trust. A real role. This is truly heaven.
"However he will not send you untested.” Halwen continued, “Until the end of the season, your suitability for this mission will be judged.”
“Your first trial is combat readiness. You’ll have six months. I’ve been tasked with preparing you myself.”
“If, during that time, you fail to meet even the minimum criteria, the mission will be canceled. And the two of you will be used for something else. Most likely send to Splittermarsch division if you are lucky, or Aschezug.
Halwen stepped closer.
“I will personally oversee every procedure done to you. But for combat readiness, you will train under a mentor and attend the Arkanpfad academy.”
Both girls blinked in surprise. They had expected to live under a microscope the entire time. But now, a school? It was the last thing they imagined—being allowed outside, walking to classes, returning home only to be experimented on. Almost like normal girls everywhere.
“And no one from the Academy should know about your true mission, if the information leak that means instant failure for both of you. You are allowed to disclose your condition as test subject but nothing more.”
Hearing the briefing, Vierna’s heart beat faster. Her eyes widened with excitement, gratitude welling to the brim. She and Lina rose to their feet.
"We thank the Arkmarschall for his trust." they said in unison.
"Good," Halwen said.
Whatever doubts Halwen once carried, the ones that made him hesitate, had vanished the moment Lina raised a porcelain shard to her own neck. Now, his commitment was absolute. He would do whatever it took to see them succeed.
"And so, I have arranged the meeting today with the mentor.” He continued, "So meet me at the front gate in five minutes. Bring everything you need.”
The girls gave a salute before returning to their room. They gathered what they needed—ink, parchment, and quill. Somehow, Lina decided her drawing of Malkurus was essential, slipping it into her storage rune.
“What? It’s for good luck,” she said, while Vierna only shook her head at her.
For a moment, they looked like ordinary students, hastily preparing for a crash course.
Then they get outside the facility, a simple carriage waiting for them. They entered with Halwen.
The road was crowded with people, some still dragging mana beast carcasses, others enjoying the holiday granted by the Arkmarschall, unbothered by the blood and gore staining the marble. Vierna and Lina, however, were too excited to care. They giggled, wondering what elemental affinities Vierna might have. Lina, already tested, knew her element was fire, and she eagerly described how she would melt an Imperium officer. Vierna only laughed, adding that if hers was earth, she would crush the officer to dust with stone. Halwen remained silent. He had long accepted their eagerness, and in his mind the Imperium deserved nothing less.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Eventually, they arrived at a mansion.
It stood alone, with no neighbors in sight, only quiet fields stretching behind it. Perhaps they were meant for private training or something else entirely. The mansion itself rose three stories high, built of pale stone with sweeping darkwood balconies and tall glass-paneled corridors that caught the morning light like polished crystal.
Marble statues lined the path to the entrance, each carved in a different style. Some heroic, others tragic, some abstract to the point of madness. A still fountain marked the center of the front garden, its basin ringed with runes faded by time. Gilded lamps flanked the gateposts.
Whoever lived here did not just command wealth. They had a taste for art, for history, for culture.
And they wanted everyone who stepped onto the grounds to know it.
As they passed through the courtyard, a woman in a black and white uniform approached them. She bowed with precise, practiced grace.
She was striking to look at. Though her face still carried the softness of youth, her body betrayed her age—tall, slender, and already shaped with a maturity that contrasted her youthful face. Her hair was neatly kept, every strand in place, and the maid’s uniform only sharpened her elegance, as if it had been tailored to bring out a natural grace she already possessed. She stood taller than Vierna, yet looked to be around the same age.
"Welcome. My master has been expecting you," she said, then turned without delay and gestured for them to follow.
They were guided through the tall double doors and into the heart of the mansion.
The mansion’s interior was even more lavish than the Arkmarschall’s estate. Grander halls, higher ceilings, and far more ornamentation. Chandeliers hung like crystal webs from the ceilings, and nearly every wall was crowded with oil paintings, gilded mirrors, or intricate tapestries. The floors gleamed with polished marble, inlaid with gold filigree. Statues loomed from every corner—heroes, monsters, muses—each one carved with obsessive detail.
But where the Arkmarschall’s mansion had been simple and elegant, this place felt indulgent. Almost desperate.
Every surface was decorated. Every room saturated with visual noise.
As if the owner feared emptiness more than excess.
They were told to wait in one of the mansion’s many sitting rooms. The waiting room is still by a large margin excessive, with carved ceilings and far too many chairs for a room that only held three people.
Lina and Vierna spoke in hushed tones beside the window, their voices low but animated. They speculated about what they might learn, who their instructor could be, and what Arkanpfad might look like. Despite everything—the pressure, the stakes, the veiled threats—the excitement in their eyes was unmistakable. They looked almost like children, finally admitted to a school they had once only dreamed of.
Halwen said nothing.
This mission would rest on them more than it ever would on him. He could only prepare, only arrange, only caution. The rest would be theirs to carry.
He knew the Arkmarschall trusted them, at least for now. But the Arkmarschall’s trust was never absolute. If they failed to perform, there would be no second chances. Ewige Schlange would still move forward. The Arkmarschall already had contingencies for the operation. And if necessary, contingencies for the girls.
They would still be useful. Just in a different way.
Halwen watched them laugh softly about uniforms or dorms or training duels. And he realized that if they failed, it wouldn’t just be the mission that shattered. It might be the last piece of him.
Not that much of it remained.
After a while, a figure appeared at the far end of the hallway.
He moved with quiet confidence, dressed not in armor but in the casual finery of a nobleman. The outfit was relaxed yet unmistakably deliberate. His long tunic shimmered in muted shades of deep indigo, like the night sky just before the moon reaches its peak. Fine embroidery traced along the hem and cuffs, delicate star patterns stitched with thread that caught the light in glimmers. Over his shoulder hung a short half-cloak the color of pale fog, clasped with a brooch shaped like a crescent wrapped around a falling star.
Despite the lack of insignia or steel, the man radiated presence. Stillness followed him, as if the hall itself had paused to acknowledge his arrival.
The girls didn’t recognize him at first. He seemed too distant, too refined, too much like a noble cut from an entirely different world.
They didn’t risk a glance.
After all, Halwen had said this was the most capable mentor in Einhartturm.
"Herr Halwen," the figure said, "I trust that everything that happens in this mansion will not be leaked outside. I don’t want my training methods getting discovered after all."
"Understood. Everything that happens here will stay here."
"I need to make it absolutely clear. Everything. Not a single word of conversation is to leave these walls."
"Understood, Hauptmann."
The man’s tone shifted.
"Well, now that’s out of the way...”
“Ah, it seems my two girlfriends really are radiant today. When the Arkmarschall told me I’d be training someone, I expected some brutish boy or a shady, whimpering girl. It never occurred to me that I’d get the two most beautiful girls in all of the Reich."
The girls froze. Then, unable to help themselves, they finally looked up.
He was smiling like it was a game.
The figure had pale skin that caught the light like a marble. Cold and luminous, his blond hair was tied loosely at the back, windswept and careless in a way that felt intentional. His features were clean, sharp, almost too perfect, as if they had been sculpted rather than born. Handsome, yes. But more than that, memorably handsome—the kind that lingered in memory long after the man had gone.
And just like that, they realized who the most capable mentor in Einhartturm truly was.
Albrecht von H?llstein.
What Element Should Vierna weild?
