I AM A MAGE BUT WITH MILF SYSTEM

Aldric spoke without turning his head.

“My lord. The news of this duel will reach Lord Liam before we finish. Someone in that corridor will carry it to him within a minute.”

The Duke slowed his pace slightly.

“You are right,” he said after a moment. “But I don’t believe he will act on it. Not yet.” He resumed his full pace. “Whatever Liam has become, he is not reckless… he calculates. And whatever calculation he is currently running, attacking three Arch Mages inside the castle the day before the king arrives does not fit inside it.”

Aldric gave a small nod and said nothing further. He fell back into step, and the three of them continued in silence.

The training ground was located at the far end of the eastern section, through a heavy door that opened onto a stadium-like outdoor space.

It wasn’t very large, but it was enough for its purpose.

There was plenty of room to move around freely without feeling restricted. The entire area was enclosed by tall walls on all four sides, built high and strong to contain most magical spells and keep anything dangerous from spreading beyond the space.

When the Duke pushed the door open and the three of them stepped through, the ground was occupied.

A group of soldiers were mid-exercise. A section near the left wall was running sword drills in pairs, the rhythmic clash of blades filling the space with metallic sound. Closer to the center, a smaller group practiced spear forms in slow synchronized movements. Along the far wall, three men were in the middle of body conditioning exercises.

The silence came before any movement.

It spread across the training ground as the soldiers slowly realized who had just walked in—the Duke, the Commander, and the young lord. The same young lord who had burned a man alive in the main corridor two days ago and then revealed at the breakfast table the next morning that he was an Archmage.

The practice blades went still. The spears lowered.

They immediately went to their knees.

“My lord.”

The Duke looked at them, and something in his expression softened very slightly.

“Stand up,” he said.

They did as they were told, raising to their full height.

A soldier near the front stepped forward. He wore a captain’s marking on his collar and carried himself with the bearing of someone who had earned his rank through years of work rather than inheritance. He looked between the Duke and Kraven with an expression that was working hard to stay composed.

“My lord,” the captain said. “Do you require anything of us?”

“Yes,” the Duke said. “Clear the ground. The Commander and my son will be conducting a duel. I want the space empty and I want your men at a distance.”

The captain’s eyes moved to Kraven. Then to Aldric. A small change showed on his face, like he was about to ask something. It was the kind of look people have when they hear something that doesn’t feel right, something they want to question but aren’t sure if they should.

He opened his mouth.

Aldric spoke before any words came out.

“Do not ask questions,” he said. “Clear the training ground and position your men along the outer wall. Far side. Eyes forward.”

The captain closed his mouth.

He turned to his soldiers without another word and gave the order with a single sharp gesture. The ground cleared in under a minute. The sword pairs broke apart and moved. The spear formation dissolved and fled toward the far wall.

Within ninety seconds the training ground was empty except for the three of them.

The captain positioned his men along the outer wall as instructed, and Julian could feel their attention from across the space.

He understood what they were looking at. For these men, Kraven had never been anything more than a name tied to failure, embarrassment, and every mistake that could be made.

And now that name was standing in the middle of their training ground, preparing to duel their commander at the request of the Duke himself.

Some of them were not interested at all. Even though their young lord was said to be an archmage, there was still doubt in their minds. Who knew if it was even true? He had always been unpredictable, and some thought he might be lying again. After all, he had been known to be good at making people believe things that weren’t real.

But others were more curious. They kept watching quietly, trying to understand what the Duke was planning by allowing something like this.

The Duke walked to the iron posts around the edge of the training ground and started activating the containment rings. He pressed his palm on each one in order, moving calmly. Each touch made a faint shimmer appear in the air. The barrier slowly built up, layer by layer, until it spread across the whole space.

Soon, a complete shield covered the training ground above them, holding everything safely inside.

Aldric removed his outer coat and handed it to a servant. He rolled his sleeves back to the elbow and moved to the center of the ground, his eyes settling on Julian with focused attention.

Julian, himself, moved to the opposite side of the ground.

The distance between them was roughly thirty feet. Somewhere behind him he could hear the collective held breath of soldiers who had no idea what they were about to see.

Meanwhile,

The Duke reached the edge of the shield and came to a stop. He stood there with his hands clasped behind his back, his posture straight and composed.

The ground went quiet.

Nearly a full minute passed without anyone moving.

Then the Duke said, “Start.”

Aldric immediately flared his mana.

It came out in a viscous, surging wave, swallowing everything at once.

As it rose, it began to gather and shape itself above and around the commander. At first, it was just a mass of swirling energy, twisting and folding in on itself. Then it started to take form. Wings stretched outward. A body followed, solidifying from raw energy, and finally ended with a head.

A griffon.