Chakra
The money troubles had been settled. Training, however, was another matter entirely.
Today, as always, the instructors were driving the attendants hard.
"Faster!"
"Hah! Hah!"
Humans are creatures of habit. Repeat something long enough, and the body adapts. Even hellish training that once felt unbearable becomes manageable when the same schedule repeats day after day. The body gradually reshapes itself to fit those hours, those motions.
The same was true of the runs. Stick to one course, and it becomes familiar. Familiarity breeds ease, and ease lets the tension slip. But these knights would never allow that kind of comfort.
"Gah! Urgh!"
They changed the course midway through, introducing variation without warning. One moment the attendants would be running on flat ground; the next, they'd be forced up a steep incline. Then, just as they grew used to the climb, the instructors would lead them down a slope instead.
Even something as basic as stamina was not meant to adapt to a single condition. The goal was to forge a body that could perform at its peak in any situation. That was the most fundamental training method of House Lichtenauer.
Thanks to that, the attendants were still running with death written across their faces. And Adel, as always, was at the very front.
The instructor, watching Adel keep pace right behind him, clicked his tongue inwardly at that sheer toughness. Leading the pack again, of course.
He never wavered, no matter the circumstances. Whether the training intensity spiked or the weather turned mid-session, Adel remained utterly unmoved. That silent, unshakable presence was enough to make even the instructor shake his head.
It's as if he considers this kind of training beneath him.
And Adel's overwhelming presence wasn't limited to physical conditioning.
"Kh!"
"That's enough. Next pair, step forward."
At the instructor's call, Adel and one of the attendants stepped forward. Adel's expression hadn't changed in the slightest. His opponent, on the other hand, wore his dread plainly on his face: this was going to be bad.
It didn't take long to understand why.
"Before we begin the spar, I'll say this once more. Be careful not to injure your opponent. Full-effort spars are reserved for the monthly evaluations. For now, keep it moderate. Stay within bounds."
Those were words the instructor had never spoken before. The monthly evaluation was the most important event for the attendants, certainly — but these daily spars, where they crossed swords and seized the chance to grow, were hardly trivial. This was not the kind of setting that called for a warning to hold back.
And yet the instructor had said it anyway, at this particular moment. Who he was saying it for was obvious to everyone.
Adel recalled Sien's words and made a silent vow. Adel. If even holding back is too much, then go easy. Easy. Easy, you understand? If you pull too far ahead, the attendants won't keep up — and neither will the knights.
He would go even weaker, even slower than he'd originally planned. He wouldn't cause another incident and give her something else to worry about.
With that in mind, he adjusted his grip on the wooden sword, intending to use less force. His opponent flinched.
But even that simple motion was still a threat to the man facing him. It was no exaggeration to say Adel was more terrifying than the instructor.
When Adel showed no particular intent to attack, his opponent felt a flicker of relief. Better to strike first than try to defend against whatever that monster might throw at him.
"Hah!"
He knew the gap between them was vast. Of course he did. Which meant that to close even a fraction of that distance, he needed the sharpest attack he could muster. Instead of a slash — wide, slow, and telegraphed — he chose a thrust, aimed at a single point.
The wooden sword shot forward. It was a decent speed, and the targeting was sound. Had his opponent been any other ordinary attendant, the man would have felt real pressure — blocking or dodging with effort — and the instructors would have nodded, calling it a respectable attempt.
If his opponent had been an ordinary attendant, that is.
Adel's wooden sword whipped through the air like lightning and struck the incoming tip with perfect precision, knocking it aside.
"Urgh!"
His opponent's balance shattered completely. He couldn't recover, and toppled sideways with a heavy thud.
"Halt!"
The winner had been decided. Or rather, it might be more accurate to say the winner had been decided from the start.
"You've all worked hard. And just in case it needs saying — those of you who won, don't get arrogant. Those of you who lost, don't despair. You can grow in a single day, and you can fall behind in a single day. That's the nature of the sword. Never let your guard down. Understood?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Everyone, to the training grounds. Practice your sword forms individually. Instructors will come around to point out your shortcomings and make minor corrections to your blade paths. Until your turn comes, don't stop sweating."
The tragedy not long ago had left the family short on knights. Even so, House Lichtenauer had no interest in simply filling numbers. They wanted to identify even a single true knight — to temper them more thoroughly rather than rush them into position, so that the vacancies could be filled with certainty.
Adel took his place and swung the wooden sword. For someone at his level, these motions were hardly necessary. He had long since passed the point where swinging a sword a few more times would make him stronger. This was barely even a post-meal stretch.
But he didn't avoid it or refuse. On the contrary, Adel swung his sword with more dedication than anyone. The results would always be different, but it was better that the process be the same. That way, the people training alongside him would be less wary. They would know he had put in the effort with them, that he had given it his all together. They might envy him — but they wouldn't hate him for it.
"Adel."
He had been swinging for some time when one of the instructors approached. Adel stopped and looked at him.
"Do you know anything about chakra?"
The moment the word left the instructor's mouth, every attendant turned to look at Adel. Then they nodded, their expressions saying, of course.
There was a reason for that reaction — an unspoken rule. The instructors always asked about chakra first of the most outstanding attendant among them. In other words, the one who heard about chakra first was, by definition, the finest among the attendants.
"...Yes."
"Then tell me what you know."
"It is a vital force in combating demonic beasts, and one that makes knights stronger. I've heard it takes the form of a disk located near the heart, through which one can feel that power."
"You know it well. As you said, chakra takes the form of a disk near the heart. And we count the bands of that disk to measure its strength."
The instructor turned and walked to the center of the attendants. He stopped there and continued.
"Chakra is not an absolute measure of all martial ability. But it is certainly a critical factor when evaluating the worth of a warrior like us. It serves as a point of comparison, a criterion for judgment. Because it is the power that makes us stronger, faster, and sharper when we fight demonic beasts."
And so, starting tomorrow, they would add the fundamentals of chakra manipulation to their training in stamina, swordsmanship, and mental fortitude. At the instructor's words, the attendants clenched their fists, steeling their resolve. They had, at last, arrived at the threshold of the path that would lead them toward becoming knights of House Lichtenauer.
Far from the training grounds used by the knights, in a place where almost no one came or went, a woman stood alone.
A faint breeze stirred, then faded. A sharp aura hung in the air, keen enough to cut if one so much as touched it. At the center of that aura, Sien opened her eyes.
Her blade hissed from its scabbard, scattering light in every direction. Each draw carried both power and grace. Until recently, she had barely known how to handle a sword — and yet Sien's blade path traced elegant, unbroken lines without a single flaw.
"Hup!"
She finished a form, and her sword came to a clean halt. Catching her breath, she slowly lowered the blade.
A light round of applause. The source was Adel, standing behind her.
"...How was it, Adel?"
"It was excellent. You've already mastered the form I showed you last time."
"It's nothing. This is only the most basic of basics. It's nowhere near enough."
It was part of House Lichtenauer's swordsmanship, yes — but this particular form was one that even newly minted knights could perform. As the head of a family renowned as masters of the sword, Sien ought to be able to execute it without so much as a hitch in her breathing.
At first my hands and feet were all tangled up. It's gotten much better now.
At first, Sien couldn't pinpoint why. She trained with the same desperate will, the same heart as before. The training itself hadn't changed — and yet, at some point, the results had. The difference was too stark to dismiss as the simple fruit of effort.
So she kept looking for the reason, and it didn't take long to find it.
It changed right then. After I started crossing swords with Adel.
All she had done was two things. One: lose to Adel, over and over, without end. The other: grit her teeth and throw her whole body into landing even a single blow on him.
That was the only difference — just those two things. And yet the forms that had once been blocked and clumsy had, at some point, begun to flow as naturally as water. Sien couldn't help but wonder about it.
"There is a difference in length, but in the end they are the same. The current form is focused on offense. And as you've crossed swords with me, Lady Sien, the skill of every part you use to wield a blade has grown — the foot that steps forward, the eye that finds the point of attack, the hand that thrusts, and beyond that, the shoulder, the waist, everything."
That was likely the reason, Adel concluded.
"Are you still focusing on swordsmanship and physical training?" Sien asked, still catching her breath.
Adel nodded, then added,
"Starting tomorrow, it seems we'll be training in chakra as well."
"...Chakra."
Sien quietly recalled her conversation with Rascal a few days prior. He had told her that she, who had only ever received Adel's help, might be able to give something back. She had let out an Ah! of realization at Rascal's suggestion.
"Adel."
"Yes, Lady Sien."
"Shall I help you?"
"...Pardon?"
A flicker of surprise crossed Adel's face. Seeing it, Sien cleared her throat and pressed on.
"Ahem. Ahem. I may not look it, but I'm actually rather good with chakra."
She placed a hand on her chest, trying to look proud. It was rather like a child fishing for praise.
Adel barely managed to keep the corner of his mouth from lifting. He didn't mind this side of her at all. If anything, he found it rather pleasant to look at.