The next morning, the sun shone gently. Rhett and Reilly, dressed in windbreakers, continued their training at the training ground. Reilly was still focused on his precision training, specifically using Water Arrow to shoot through the gap between the stones his father had set up.
After hearing from his father yesterday that precision training was just the beginning, and that there were more advanced exercises such as moving target practice, blind casting, harsh environment training, split-second target acquisition, multi-target strikes, and so on, he realized the long road ahead. Determined to master all these skills, he planned to dedicate every spare moment to magic training.
Whoosh!
A Water Arrow shot precisely through the center of the stones, and Reilly’s face lit up with joy. He had been practicing for over two hours, and finally, his precision training had made a breakthrough!
Now he could consistently fire two arrows through the gap without hitting the stones, a significant improvement from yesterday. Feeling the need for a break, he glanced at his father and noticed that Rhett was deeply focused on more intense training. Curious, Reilly watched closely.
In front of Rhett, about twenty meters away, three small stones, each the size of a fingernail, were falling from the sky. Just as they reached about a meter above the ground, three Earth Spikes shot up from the earth.
Reilly stared, unblinking, as he witnessed the scene. The small stones were shattered into several pieces! Reilly’s jaw dropped. If he wasn’t mistaken, the Earth Spikes had struck the stones dead center, without any deviation. And to hit three targets at once? The difficulty must have been exponentially greater than hitting just one!
Sigh
"If only I could reach Father’s level!" Reilly thought with envy. The small sense of accomplishment from his own progress instantly faded.
However, with years of diligent practice and the fact that Earth Spike was a bloodline-inherited spell, he had become increasingly adept at casting it. His progress with Earth Spike had been much faster than with other spells in the past.
Concentrating, Rhett aimed at the boulder's indented surface and launched the Earth Spike with a flick of his wrist. Whoosh! The Earth Spike struck the boulder precisely but missed the center of the indentation by a small margin. Rhett shook his head. The result was still far from his ideal standard.
In his view, Earth Spike was like an enhanced version of Earth Thrust, possessing powerful anti-air capabilities. It could attack from various angles and was also effective for ambushes. As such, Rhett saw Earth Spike as a highly desirable offensive spell. Realizing that his bloodline magic allowed him to learn it quickly, he was determined to hone this advantage until he achieved mastery.
He continued his training until the afternoon. Even lunch was a simple affair, brought to the training ground by his butler. As Rhett sat on the ground, meditating to restore his drained mental energy, he couldn’t help but smile. A single day of training had led to a significant improvement in his Earth Spike proficiency, equivalent to what a week’s practice with other spells would have achieved.
While he was meditating, Rhett heard footsteps approaching. His butler, Sveta, appeared with a cheerful expression. "Master, I have good news!"
Rhett opened his eyes as Sveta drew closer. "Master, I just visited the stables, and George told me that Blackhorn is pregnant."
"What? Blackhorn is pregnant!" Reilly, who had just released a Water Arrow, overheard Sveta's words and hurried over. "That proud little mare, pregnant? Hmm, let me guess, it’s Grayhorn’s foal, right?"
"Exactly. It looks like in a little more than half a year, Master Reilly will have a strong new steed," Sveta replied with a grin.
"Oh, I thought so. And since Telles rarely leaves the territory, the next little black horse should be mine!" Reilly added with a glance at his father, "Of course, that's if my kind and generous father doesn’t cruelly abandon Grayhorn and let me have the little black horse."
Rhett chuckled. He knew it was too early to tell, as Blackhorn’s belly hadn’t started to swell yet, making it hard to determine how many foals she was carrying. "Why are you so sure Blackhorn is only carrying one? If she has twins, we’ll all have new mounts—me, you, and Telles."
"Master, George mentioned that horses like Blackhorn, with such exceptional physical traits, are not only difficult to impregnate but also rarely give birth to multiple foals," Sveta explained, agreeing that Blackhorn was unlikely to have twins.
Rhett shrugged. "Maybe, but who knows? Blackhorn defied George’s expectations by getting pregnant after only a short time with Grayhorn, so we shouldn't rule anything out."
"That’s a good point," Reilly mused. If there were twins, that would indeed be ideal.
Meanwhile, west of Falcon Town, about twenty kilometers away, at Sun Lake, the ice covering the lake’s surface hadn’t fully melted after the winter freeze. At the lake’s edge, a fierce battle was taking place between a second-tier Ironhorn Ram and a Flame Hound.
The Ironhorn Ram, with its gleaming horns, charged across the plains like a white meteor toward the snarling Flame Hound. Whoosh The Flame Hound growled deeply, its eyes glowing red as it spat a fireball at the oncoming ram. Covered in wounds, the Ironhorn Ram didn’t dodge. Instead, it chose to confront the attack head-on, its horns glowing a dull yellow as they hardened in an instant.
A massive explosion echoed across the landscape. Hiding behind a large boulder nearby, Rhett signaled his three sons to stay quiet as he peeked out. He witnessed the fireball shatter against the Ironhorn Ram, which continued its charge, undeterred by the Flame Hound’s magic.
The Flame Hound hesitated for a moment, but its bloodthirsty instincts took over, leaving no room for retreat. Despite the gaping wounds on its body, it leaped forward with savage determination, ready for close combat.
The two beasts clashed in a brutal melee, claws and horns colliding, and bodies slamming against each other. Rhett observed that in close combat, the Flame Hound seemed to be at a disadvantage. The Ironhorn Ram had the upper hand in both strength and the lethality of its natural weapons.
Sure enough, after just a few minutes, the Flame Hound’s injuries worsened. Suddenly, it let out a deafening roar, its four paws glowing red as it prepared for a final desperate attack. The Ironhorn Ram, true to form, charged headlong into the attack, only to be met by the Flame Hound’s claws, which inflicted deep wounds.
...