"Don't underestimate him, Ian."
When the boy shared his thoughts with Hilliard, he saw his teacher shake his head slightly. "It's not that simple—regardless of whether I'm involved, as such a young psionic, you will inevitably draw his attention."
"Huh?"
Ian did not quite understand. Frowning slightly, he pondered, "But that kind of attention should be a good thing. He should just want to investigate my daily life and determine whether I'm as talented as Viscount Grant said—I'm sure he'll get to the truth soon enough."
"You're thinking too simply."
The old knight shook his head meaningfully. "You know that the Empire gathers all commoners with the aptitude to become Transcendents or psionics, then has local nobles or official organizations bestow favors upon them, granting them inheritances and thereby keeping the holders of such power under their control."
With that, Hilliard pointed out a fact. "Do you think someone greater wouldn't take notice of talent like yours?"
"Do you think that if Viscount Grant were not your nominal 'instructor,' you would have any say in where they took you?"
Ian's eyes widened.
The old knight continued, "You would be taken to the Royal True Knowledge Academy in the Imperial Capital to study psionics... and to be studied as well. That would not be a good thing. Unless you truly were the child of a great noble, it would absolutely not be a good thing."
"More than that, if you left this imperial frontier of Harrison Port before you had fully matured, do you think you could hide the truth that you cultivate as a Sand Armor Apprentice from those truly powerful Transcendents?"
"Of course, those are all minor problems. Ian, with your intelligence, I believe you could resolve any trouble you encountered."
Sighing, Hilliard straightened his back and said slowly,