Trinity of Magic [Progression Fantasy]

Zeke woke up well before the sun rose, his mind already set on the task of the day - visiting Markus. He knew that the blacksmiths in the crafter's quarters began their day early, and if he wanted to catch Markus before he started his work for the day, he would have to be even earlier. He got out of bed and prepared himself in a hurry, determined to reach the smithy as early as possible.

As Zeke approached the building, he almost collided with a man in a formal-looking black suit who was just leaving through the front door. The man's strict eyes and no-nonsense demeanor reminded him of Maximilian's butler. The stranger paid Zeke no mind as he walked right past him and entered a luxurious carriage that was parked right outside the smithy.

Zeke, not dwelling any further on the encounter, quickened his pace, eager to see his friend. As he entered the shop, he saw Markus and his uncle, Armin, talking in a corner of the room. Armin noticed Zeke approaching and gave him a warm smile and a wave before walking into the smithy, leaving the two friends alone to talk.

Zeke approached Markus with a growing sense of unease, noticing the troubled look on his friend's face. "Is everything okay?" he asked, concern etched on his face.

Markus let out a sigh and looked up at Zeke. "Did you see the man who just left? He was a messenger of the Imperial family," he said, his voice heavy with derision. "He was ordering all smithies in the capital to prioritize the orders of the Imperial family. There's going to be a significant war offensive planned, and they want their soldiers equipped."

Zeke grimaced at the news, knowing all too well the toll war took on a kingdom and its people. He had come here to ask Markus to work on a private project for him, but it seemed that his friend's priorities had just shifted.

He still turned to his friend, a trace of hope remaining in his voice. "Is it possible that you could work on something else for me instead, or are you going to get in trouble for that?" he asked, trying not to sound too desperate.

Markus scoffed at the question. "What trouble? The Imperial family pays like dirt, and the amount of money you left with me last time really helped me in practicing my craft. Whatever you need from me, I'll get it done in no time!" Markus promised as he brought his clenched fist up to his chest in a show of determination, his voice unwavering.

Zeke was touched by Markus's words and wasted no time as he began to describe what he needed his friend to make for him. As he spoke, Markus raised an eyebrow, listening intently to the description. The smith looked over the blueprints Zeke had brought, and by the look on his face, it was clear that he was intrigued by the design. "This is quite an ambitious project, Zeke," Markus said, his voice filled with admiration. "But I promise you, the prototype will be done in the next few days."

Zeke's heart lifted with relief and gratitude. "Thank you, Markus," he said, smiling at his friend. "I knew I could count on you."

As Zeke made to leave the smithy, Markus reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. Zeke turned to face his friend, who seemed hesitant to speak. Zeke could sense the boy's apprehension and in an effort to ease the tension, he playfully punched his friend in the chest and jokingly said, "Who is this little girl in front of me acting all bashful? Spit it out, man!" Markus's face relaxed at Zeke's words, and he began to speak.

"I wanted to ask you for a favor," Markus said, "but I don't rightly know how difficult it will be for you." He paused, looking intently at his friend's face. Zeke simply nodded, indicating that he was listening, waiting for Markus to continue.

Encouraged by Zeke's nonchalant demeanor, Markus continued, "There is a blacksmithing competition happening at the moment." Markus looked at Zeke, hope in his eyes.

Zeke stared at Markus in disbelief. "You're not seriously considering competing in the blacksmithing competition? It's for master blacksmiths, Markus, not apprentices," he said incredulously.

Markus shook his head, a hint of embarrassment creeping into his voice. "No, no, I know that. I just wanted to ask if you could help me get a ticket to watch the competition. The commoner tickets sold out almost instantly, and I don't want to miss it," he explained, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his tone.

Zeke felt a twinge of confusion at his friend's request. "That's it? That's why you were acting so hesitantly? You wanted me to help you get a ticket?" he asked, a hint of amusement had now crept into his voice.

Markus nodded, his face flushing a deep red. "I-I know it sounds silly, but I have no idea what kind of position you have in the noble hierarchy and if it would cause problems for you," he stammered, looking down at his feet.

Zeke couldn't help but feel touched by his friend's concern. He clapped Markus on the back, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Don't worry about it, my friend. I'll take care of it. Leave it all to me," he said confidently.

Markus's face lit up with gratitude. "Thank you, Zeke. I know it might be a small matter to you. But this is a competition for masters of my craft, and I even heard that both of last year's finalists were Metal Mages like me."

Zeke nodded, understanding Markus's passion for the competition even better now. "Don't worry, Markus. I'll see to it that you get a ticket. My status as heir to the von Hohenheim family and as Maximilian's personal disciple should make it easy to obtain one. I'll make sure you'll get the best seat in the house, you'll feel like you are sitting in the lap of the blacksmiths competing."

Markus looked up at him, his gratitude evident on his face. "Thank you, Zeke," he said, before turning back to his workbench and starting to work on the project that Zeke had requested of him.

Zeke watched his friend's back for a moment, a sense of contentment washing over him. Zeke would be able to repay his friend for his support, when nobody else had been there for him, and that was all that mattered to him. With a smile on his face, he turned and made his way back home, his steps light and easy.

On his way home, Zeke remembered that Markus' birthday was in a little over a week, just after the competition. He thought over Markus' request, and the outline of a plan started to form in his mind. Zeke hurried home and immediately went to find his Mentor. He asked Maximilian if he could get tickets to the competition. Maximilian snorted at the question, "Why don't you just go and ask the butler, David, for such a little thing? You don't have to come to me for such mundane requests, you know?"

"I don't just need regular tickets, old man!" Zeke said, a bit of red creeping in his cheeks after being reprimanded, "I want the best spots that money can buy. I made a promise to Markus." Maximilian looked at Zeke with a raised eyebrow, clearly waiting for an explanation for this demand. Zeke had no other choice but to divulge his plan to Maximilian.

After the old man had heard his plan, he burst out laughing and said, "That's quite the birthday present you have in mind, my boy. Very well, I'll secure the necessary tickets for your scheme." Zeke was relieved upon hearing that his mentor was going to support him in this endeavor, as he had no idea how he would have gone about pulling it off without the old man's support.

As the first pieces of training equipment arrived at the von Hohenheim estate the next morning, Zeke could barely contain his excitement. The suit of armor, modified by Markus with the help of Zeke's detailed blueprints, resembled that of a knight. However, upon closer inspection, one could see the intricate gears and springs attached to the metal plates and joints. To the uninformed, it may have seemed as though these mechanisms were meant to aid movement. But Zeke, as the inventor, knew the true purpose of these contraptions. They were there not to assist, but to resist and hinder each movement made by the wearer.

With bated breath, Zeke donned the suit and took a few steps forward. He could feel the resistance of the gears and springs as he moved. It didn't take him long to realize how grueling and demanding any kind of exercise in this suit would be.

As he was about to start to test the suit in earnest, Viola, whom he had told about his plans, arrived at the training field behind the mansion. She watched silently from her perch in midair. She looked the contraption on Zeke's body up and down. The feline grin that appeared on her face was mocking, she seemed convinced that his invention would be a complete failure. But Zeke was not deterred, he had faith in his invention and in Markus's craftsmanship, after having already felt the effectiveness of the suit in his first few steps. Clenching his teeth, he made to continue. He would not be defeated, he would master it and in doing so, master himself. He took a few more steps and then stopped, sweat already pouring down his face. Viola, who had been watching the proceedings with a cat-like grin, flew over to inspect the suit.

"What's wrong? Is the suit not working?" she asked, her voice tinged with amusement.

Zeke didn't reply for a moment, but then, with slow and strained movements, he brought up his hands to remove the helmet. Viola's grin faltered as she saw the sweat pouring down Zeke's face and the veins bulging on his neck. Even walking around in the armor was taking everything out of him.

Around fifteen minutes later, Zeke was lying on the ground, panting for breath. Even Viola was worried, after witnessing how strenuous the training had looked. She helped him out of the suit and asked with concern, "Are you alright?"

Zeke didn't answer right away. He seemed to be staring at something in midair that Viola couldn't see. Slowly, a grin started to take shape on his face, and he began to laugh. Viola was a little creeped out by the strange display, but then Zeke, now free from the armor, stood up and hugged her.

"It works! This is so much better than I had expected," he exclaimed.

Viola, flustered, pushed him away and pointed at his chest. Zeke looked down and saw that his shirt had been torn apart while removing the armor. He had not taken a good look at himself in some time. But as he looked down at his own body, he could see the toned chest of a man. He had grown a lot over the past few months, now standing at around 1.75 m. His crimson hair fell almost onto his shoulders, and his once scrawny body had packed on a solid layer of muscles.

He couldn't resist but run his hand over his defined abs and toned chest. He was amazed by how much his body had changed since his advancement to True Mage. At this moment, he heard someone breathing roughly nearby. He looked up to see Viola staring at his body with a red face. She was covering her face with both hands, but it was painfully obvious that she was doing a horrible job of obstructing her sight.

As Viola noticed Zeke looking back at her, she made a high-pitched yelp sound and immediately took to the air, escaping without saying anything.

Zeke couldn't help but laugh at Viola's antics, but when he remembered the hug from moments ago, his own face also turned a little red. Before he could become too distracted, he once again took a look at what his [Analyze] Spell had shown him earlier. He had tasked the spell with checking on the changes happening to his body, and this was the result:

Zeke almost couldn't believe how much progress he had made in only around 15 minutes of training. With his regeneration, he would be able to train with the armor at least three times a day. The gains from the training would reduce from repeating the same exercises over a long time, but he was still confident of bringing his Constitution to 25 without a problem.