Clang!

A steel shortsword chopped cleanly through a wooden stake.

“Well done!” the onlookers began to cheer.

“Young Master is the best!”

“Well done, Young Master.”

“Young Master is a genius!”

A cacophony of praise could be heard through the air.

Frost Fabino calmly sheathed his shortsword.

He had heard this kind of praise all too often.

He had just turned seven this year, but the strength he could display was equivalent to that of an adult. This was partially because lifeforms in this world matured earlier (reaching full maturity at the age of twelve). The other reason was because of his innate talent.

The illusory blood essence had vastly increased his vitality. Even though it was not fully activated yet, it would still allow him to advance at breakneck pace. He was truly a genius. Even though his servants’ words were full of admiration, the content of their praise was accurate.

Even so, these words were totally pointless to Frost.

Seven...