Of course! Here's the full English translation of the
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A few days had passed since Yazan joined the palace, and I was slowly adapting to the intense training. Every morning, the sound of birds was barely audible over Lisa's stern voice yelling, "Wake up, you're late!"
On one of those mornings, she knocked on my door so hard I thought the hinges would come off, then stormed in, snapping,
"Are you expecting the lightning mana to wake you up?"
I groaned as I got out of bed. "Just tell me if you're planning to kill us both today, so I can write my will."
I rushed to the training yard, where Yazan stood casually chewing on an apple, looking less like a mentor and more like a lazy student skipping class.
"Morning, sleepy heir!" Yazan said as he flicked the apple seeds with perfect accuracy into a tiny barrel of water. "Today we get serious. Do you know how to direct mana through your body?"
I nodded, and he grinned with excitement.
"Good. Because someone who can't guide mana is like a man with a sword and no handle — he'll cut himself before his enemy."
Training began. He showed me how to focus mana through my body, directing it toward my nerves and muscles. The goal? Generate lightning from within and release it. It sounded amazing — until I actually tried it.
On my first attempt, my hair literally caught fire for a second. Lisa facepalmed and muttered,
"Are you a mage or a human candle?"
Yazan burst out laughing,
"Bravo! Lesson one: Don't channel mana when all you can think about is breakfast, you eternal glutton."
We trained for hours. I struggled, I got hurt, but I laughed too. Every time I failed, Yazan would throw out some ancient wisdom as if the mana-induced slaps gave him enlightenment.
"Remember, kid — if you can't spark lightning in your veins, ignite willpower in your heart."
During breaks, I noticed something strange between Lisa and Yazan — tension, glances, brief conversations. It was impossible to ignore.
One afternoon, I approached Lisa and whispered,
"Is there something between you and Yazan?"
She paused. Then in a low voice, she said,
"He was… my lover."
I froze.
She continued, "He vanished after the war, never said goodbye. I thought he was dead. Now he returns like nothing happened."
Later that day, I asked Yazan directly, "Were you her lover?"
He sighed, gazing into the distance.
"Yes... but I was a coward. I thought I'd become a burden to her. So I ran, and then regretted it."
"Why come back now?"
He smiled sadly.
"Maybe fate gave me a second chance. Or maybe… I just wanted to be hated, not forgotten."
Days passed, and I grew stronger. I could generate lightning in my palms and even launch short bursts.
One afternoon, Yazan said,
"Mana is like ink, and your thoughts are the brush. If you don't know what you're painting, you'll only smear the canvas."
Once, while trying a new technique, a bolt exploded under my foot and launched me into a tree. I landed with a groan.
Yazan laughed,
"Terrible attack, but a brilliant fall! One point to gravity."
Lisa stood nearby, arms crossed, visibly annoyed.
"You almost fried me!"
"But I hit the target!" I pointed at the now-charred dummy. "Victory!"
Yazan clapped.
"Finally! Now I feel proud. You really are a Gold... just as crazy as the rest of us."
Then he whispered, "But don't tell your father — he'll kick us both out."
We both laughed. There was a warmth in the training yard, a blend of sparks and laughter. But beneath it, Yazan still carried a fire that hadn't gone out... a fire named Lisa.
One morning, the air was unusually quiet. Lisa was visibly tense, and I could tell something was coming.
Suddenly, she turned to Yazan. "Why did you really come back? Did you think I'd welcome you back with open arms?"
Yazan stood silent for a moment, then replied, voice low and serious — so unlike his usual self.
"I came back because my heart stayed with you, no matter how far I ran. I don't expect forgiveness... I just wanted to see you again."
She stared at him, eyes uncertain, then turned away.
Later, we began a joint training session. The technique was about channeling high-speed mana through the feet and hands, creating bursts of movement and shock.
As I stumbled through the motion, Yazan's voice rang out like a thunderclap,
"Pain is not your enemy — it's your mentor in disguise. Learn from it."
In that moment, I felt something shift. I focused mana in my legs, jumped high, and fired a bolt at a training dummy — direct hit! The dummy exploded.
Lisa screamed,
"You lunatic! That almost hit me!"
"But it didn't," I laughed, "which makes me a genius!"
Yazan clapped and beamed.
"Excellent! Now we're getting somewhere. You've finally stopped electrocuting yourself!"
Then he leaned over and added, "Next time, try not to fry your crush."
My face went red.
"She's not my—"
Lisa glared.
"Not your what?"
"Nothing! I said nothing!"
As the sun set, and laughter echoed in the courtyard, I realized — this wasn't just training. It was healing. For all of us