The training grounds were empty, all other candidates having already left. I stood facing my instructor, Freya.
“How will the training proceed?”
“How else? I’ll teach you.”
Freya cut her words short, her voice low and calm, yet with an underlying tone of weariness. However, she was chosen by Sebastian and vetted by Enzi, so there was no need to doubt her skills.
“We’ll start with a test. I need to know how much you understand about swordsmanship.”
She picked up a twig from the corner of the training grounds.
“I’ll use this. You try cutting it with your sword.”
“……Yes.”
I gripped my training sword and took a stance, aiming at Freya. Though she seemed to be standing casually, I felt no openings. I took a step forward.
Clang!
The moment I lunged, her twig precisely struck my wrist. The stinging pain made me almost drop my sword.
“Too straightforward. Be a little more cunning.”
“……”
I gripped my sword again. I feigned a frontal assault, then a double feint to the right, aiming for her lower body—
Clang!
The result was the same. This time, it was my shoulder. The joint hit by the twig burned as if scalded.
“Again.”
“……Yes.”
This time, I charged in while crouching, trying to get close enough to thrust. Freya swung the twig in a straight line.
Fwoosh!
A sound like the air exploding followed. It wasn’t just the force of a twig. My body was thrown back as if hit by buckshot.
Thump.
I landed prone on the ground.
“……”
“Again. Get up.”
I repeated the process.
Tap!
I was hit in the side. The dull impact stole my breath.
Tap!
I was struck on the forehead. My vision swam for a moment.
Tap!
I was hit in the chest. A mark formed on my collarbone.
“Are you alright?”
“……”
Heat was beginning to rise. I was being toyed with. Freya was still standing in the exact same spot, not having moved a single step.
Frustration flared. Doubt crept in, but it wasn’t directed at Freya. I shouldn’t be a piece of garbage who blamed others anymore. My shortcomings were solely my own fault.
“Channel your mana. You can’t fight me bare-bodied.”
I gritted my teeth. Mana. Yes, mana. I needed mana.
I closed my eyes and focused my consciousness inward. I sensed the faint tremor of particles flowing through my veins, controlled the subtle currents, and circulated mana throughout my body.
Then—suddenly, a path opened. A new passage was created in my internal circuits. A stream of mana rushed out, reaching a certain point within me. The destination was ‘Virus’, the mana core that had returned with me. The two mana types, different in nature, coalesced there, black and blue mixing into a single hue.
—Tick.
It responded to me. The second hand chimed within my soul. Simultaneously, the world slowed down. I lunged immediately. A sudden burst of hyper-acceleration. I pushed off the ground and reached Freya in an instant. Just as I’d cut down Ezenheim, I swung my sword at the twig.
Slice.
The twig was cleanly severed, but Freya’s eyes moved, her pupils tracking my speed. At that moment, I felt a strange elation. This woman, she was a true master!
Tick.
The world returned to normal. The acceleration was too brief.
Thump!
Unable to control my momentum, I slammed into the wall, while Freya stared at the cut end of her twig with a surprised expression.
“……Oh my?”
“A sword is a brush, and you are a painter. You paint pictures in the air with your sword.”
I stood before my teacher in the training grounds. The real lesson was about to begin. After I had cut the twig, Freya had become a bit more serious.
“When you paint a landscape or a still life, how do you do it?”
“I’ve tried-”
“Do you just imagine it? No. You usually observe the subject and paint it. Swordsmanship is the same. You observe your opponent and respond accordingly. However, if you stop there, you’ll only become a mass-produced painter. Why?”
“I try-”
“Because you lack a fixed, personal image in your mind. The mental image and conviction are the most important things for a swordsman. In fact, they are the most important things for all humans. Your sword’s mental image is likely Ebenholz, isn’t it?”
“……I’ve heard there’s a secret sword passed down in the family.”
My father had used that secret sword too. However, secret swordsmanship and secret swords are strictly different. A secret sword is a miracle akin to magic, while secret swordsmanship is, literally, pure sword technique—how to move your body and deploy the sword.
“Yes. From what I see, you are following the principles of Ebenholz.”
“That’s right.”
It was inevitable. After all, I had only ever seen, heard, and learned Ebenholz. My foundation as a swordsman was the Ebenholz style of longsword techniques. It wasn’t a method that suited me. I hadn’t even considered it fitting. Freya probably recognized that about me.
“Ebenholz uses a longsword. This style is generally possible because your family bloodline has strong bodies. Ebenholz truly swings their sword as if painting, which requires immense strength and a powerful physique.”
“……Yes. I know. That it doesn’t suit me.”
Now, it was time for me to let go of Ebenholz. I was ready to walk my own path.
“I want to break free from the sword of Ebenholz. That’s why I hired you.”
Freya frowned.
“Idiot.”
“……What?”
She looked at me with a look of pity.
“As I see it, you were born with a body most suited to the sword of Ebenholz, more so than any of your ancestors. Even more so than your father.”
“Huh?”
“Sebastian doesn’t use a longsword.”
Sebastian did not use a longsword. The standard of Ebenholz longsword technique was a 1.6-meter blade. However, he wielded a broadsword of just over a meter. While other aspects were Ebenholz, it was at least not the standard.
“Listen carefully, kid. In my eyes, you are the purest form of Ebenholz. Perhaps you are the Ebenholz who will remain until the very end.”
“The Ebenholz who will remain until the very end.” The words sent a shiver down my spine.
“You can’t run away, and you shouldn’t. If you are Ebenholz, where else can you escape to? Your body proves it, so you just need to walk the path laid out by your family. Listen closely from now on. This is theoretical instruction.”
Freya held up three fingers.
“The sword techniques of the Empire are broadly divided into three flows. Of course, other kingdoms have their own schools, but these three are the root.”
Honestly, I wasn’t very interested in the origins or history of swordsmanship.
“The first flow is called ‘Leo’. It’s a strong, direct sword. It primarily uses two-handed greatswords or longswords, and emphasizes breaking the opponent. The origin of your family’s Ebenholz is this Leo.”
Leo. Named after the lion. It was an ancient sword style I had heard of.
“The second is the movement called ‘Aquila’. It’s fast and sharp like an eagle. It uses light, keen longswords or rapiers, and exploits openings with speed and precision. Most rapier techniques are based on this Aquila.”
Freya gazed at me intently.
“The last is ‘Serpens’. They are flexible and unpredictable like snakes. They often use dual swords, curved swords, or even unconventional weapons like whip swords, so the specifics vary with each instructor.”
Suddenly, mana flickered in her gaze. I felt a sensation as if she were piercing through my bones, muscles, and mana flow.
“You were born with the strength of a lion.”
I blinked and asked again.
“Me?”
I was slightly taken aback. I had been told I was weak, untalented, a disgrace to Ebenholz, a pushover, arrogant, yet insecure… I had heard nothing but such words, yet her expression was serious.
“Look at your body. You’ve been hit by my twig dozens of times, and there isn’t a single bruise. And even after moving so fast, there’s no sign of muscle tearing or mana backlash. By my standards, you shouldn’t be standing here perfectly fine.”
“……”
I instinctively examined my body. It was as she said. There were no marks on my wrist, shoulder, or side that I had just been hit. Not even a hint of soreness.
“Now that I think about it, that’s true.”
Compared to before my regression, I had definitely changed. But what was the reason? Was it simply because I had become younger? Or… The entity stirring beneath my heart suddenly came to mind. The mana core. A fragment of the ‘dimensional devourer’ that had become a part of me. Instructor Freya mistook the alien mana core for my talent.
“Once a week, starting today, I will teach you the sword of Ebenholz.”
She’s quite a peculiar person. Someone who isn’t Ebenholz, trying to teach the true heir of Ebenholz the sword of Ebenholz. Or perhaps, given Sebastian’s deliberate choice, she could be an Ebenholz collateral.
“Then, next is-”
Beep beep beep— Beep beep beep—
An alarm rang from the bag in the corner of the training ground. It was a timer Freya had set.
“3 hours are up. Today’s lesson is over. Good work.”
She dusted off her hands and leaped up, disappearing over the wall like a cat.
“……No.”
Left alone in the training grounds, I was dumbfounded.
In a dimly lit but elegantly decorated whiskey bar, Freya, with a glass of expensive liquor before her, sank into deep thought. The moments from just before replayed like afterimages. The young knight who had charged at her. The one who, in an instant, took several steps and dared to breach her territory. That small Ebenholz, with hair and eyes as yellow as lightning, was truly like lightning. It was a movement that defied common sense, as if reversing time.
“Hmm~”
Freya sat on a creaking chair, gazing at the whiskey glass.
“Hyper-acceleration, perhaps.”
Maximilian’s rapid acceleration is largely unexplained. Firstly, such speed cannot be achieved by pure physical strength alone. The human muscles and bones cannot withstand such speeds. Therefore, precise mana control, acting as a buffer, is essential. Only by encasing muscle fibers with mana, protecting the joints, and absorbing the recoil from movement can it be achieved. However, Maximilian lacked even such measures.
Then, what was that peculiar speed? Was it a part of the ancient secret passed down through the Ebenholz family? Or an innate, unique constitution that only this small Ebenholz possessed? Numerous hypotheses flashed through her mind, but the conclusion was already set.
“Born with the most refined body among all of Ebenholz.”
She had simply been suppressed by a cowardly personality until now. She had thought the Ebenholz lineage was completed with Sebastian, but it seemed there was one more step. Freya took a sip of whiskey.
“It tastes good. This is why I like the capital.”
It didn’t matter either way. Maximillian was completely different from the public perception of him as weak. He was certainly not weak. Rather, he possessed unpredictable and dangerous potential, but so what? She only cared about getting paid.
“Hey, bartender. Give me another glass of 33-year-old Mexico.”
She had received a million dollars for just three hours of instruction. Sebastian was truly a man of great generosity.
