There's something about that pride (and defensiveness) that resonates with the part of him that can recall a past training at Rathal'pesha with the priests, remembering what it was like to always have to prove himself.

He'd sought out places to be alone then too, away from the priests and the other trainees.

With the demonstration he lets out a soft puff of air, like huh, and gives an approving nod. He's sure it likely took a second or two longer than the young man intended for it to work, and his gaze scans Wilhelm's hand for any redness on his skin like burns. No blood, no bone. It's so strange for their to be no sacrifice. Maybe it's not as easy to see as cuts drawn across flesh. Maybe this world is a kinder place.

Or maybe this is just his wishful thinking.

"Did you learn that here?" he asks, nodding toward the castle proper.