You Just Drew Your Sword, Didn't You?
Leon stepped out of the main building, humming under his breath.
The path to the training grounds was simple enough. Behind the main hall, everything that stretched out was training grounds — every last inch of it.
For a family this serious about the sword, they had made damn sure there was no shortage of places to practice.
Two swordsmen stood guard at the entrance leading to the rear courtyard. They stopped Leon as he approached.
"We'll need to verify your identity for a moment."
"Here."
Leon held out the identification badge he'd just received. At the sight of the gold emblem, both guards' eyes widened slightly.
"You're cleared. May you achieve great things."
Leon gave them a single nod and kept walking.
"Damn. It's huge."
A vast rear courtyard spread out before him, open and magnificent, packed with training grounds as far as the eye could see. Shouts of exertion and the sharp crack of blades cutting air formed a constant backdrop.
This was the Asonia family's Training Garden.
Leon strolled through it at an easy pace, taking everything in.
The facilities were excellent — not just practical, but thoughtfully designed. A place like this would make anyone itch to draw a sword.
"Those must be the trainees."
Even this early in the morning, people were scattered across the outdoor grounds, swinging their blades with varying degrees of commitment.
The Asonia family didn't restrict their swordsmanship instruction to blood relatives alone. They also accepted outside trainees in something like a sword academy format. When it came to swordsmanship education institutions in the capital, the Asonia name was usually the first one mentioned.
The tuition, however, was another matter. The clientele tended to be the children of wealthy households and noble families.
Kind of like a fancy taekwondo dojang back in Korea.
Better than loafing around at home — get some exercise swinging a sword, pick up the prestige of having trained under the Asonia name, absorb a little of the refinement that came with martial study…
What upper-class parent in the capital would pass that up?
Over the years, it had become custom for any family of means to send their children here. These days, actual sword training had taken a back seat. Networking and building social cartels were the real objectives.
Which explained why the boys around Leon's age looked so clumsy holding a sword. They had the half-learned air of people who'd been shown the motions once or twice. Talent aside, it didn't look like they'd put in any real effort either.
They'd probably been enthusiastic at the start. What boy didn't dream of swords, knights, and warriors?
But time wore that down. Training was grueling and dull, and eventually each of them realized they didn't have the gift of some storybook hero. Interest faded. Passion cooled. And that was that.
"Well, if they actually had talent and grit, they'd be at Elprime."
Leon shook his head and stuck a cigarette between his lips.
"Anyway — which training hall am I supposed to use?"
Whatever's empty should be fine, right?
After a brief look around, he set off in one direction.
Thud.
Leon stepped into an indoor training hall.
Training was something you did whenever you had free time — always. Figuring out which halls he'd use while staying in the capital was important business. There was a reason he'd come looking for a training ground the moment he arrived. He'd be spending more time here than in his own quarters.
"Hmm…"
He took a moment to survey the interior.
It was slightly smaller than the No. 1 Training Hall he'd shared with Class A at the academy. Familiar training equipment lined the walls, along with plenty of things he'd never seen before. Off to one side sat a water station, a changing room, and a rack of medical supplies.
"Might as well loosen up a bit."
Leon began a light warm-up.
He stretched to work the stiffness from his body, then drew the Heaven-Shattering Sword and ran through the basics in sequence — starting with forms like the Seven Blades of Prepared Radiance. After that came the Thunderchase Sword Forms, and then, one by one, the countless sword arts, styles, and techniques stored in his head.
"I'd like to do something about these too."
Cutting idle strokes through empty air, Leon muttered to himself.
He meant the Dark Forms of the Jecheon Sword Style. The backlash was brutal, and they weren't techniques anyone else should ever see — but letting power like that gather dust felt like a waste.
"Maybe once my realm climbs higher, I can start touching them again."
He clicked his tongue and picked up a training tool.
Dozens of pea-sized spheres filled his palm — a device called flash balls.
The way they worked was simple. Infuse a little mana, give them a couple of shakes, then scatter them wide into the air.
Fwoosh-sh-sh-sh!
The balls lit up blue and began trembling in every direction as they drifted slowly downward.
Focus.
Kagagagagagagang—!
The goal was to touch every last one with your blade before they hit the floor. Any ball that made contact flared red and immediately lost its power, dropping straight down.
Pea-sized orbs that darted around faster and more annoyingly than flies — it was brutally difficult. For Leon, who was drilling his swift-sword techniques, it was the perfect training tool.
He was throwing at least twenty at a time. His personal best was twenty-four.
He was just preparing for his third toss when—
Bang!
The door slammed open.
"Pwahaha! You should've seen that bitch's face…"
"Yesterday's catch was pretty solid, no lie."
"Fuck, just thinking about it and I'm getting hard again."
Five boys swaggered in, laughing and talking over each other. All of them looked about Leon's age, each with an iron sword at his hip.
"…"
Leon had sensed them long before they arrived. He didn't so much as glance their way as he flung the flash balls into the air.
"So, we heading back out tonight?"
"Stupid question."
"Still gotta work on that girl from the other class…"
"Oh, right! Speaking of which, today we should—"
Kagagagagagang—!
"…?"
Only then did the boys notice Leon on the far side of the hall.
"The hell is that guy?"
The one in front — biggest of the bunch, thick-set and heavy — spat the words out with casual arrogance.
"Anyone know him?"
"Nope. Never seen him."
"Me neither."
"New trainee, maybe?"
The big one scowled and barked across the room.
"Hey! Skinny bastard! Who the hell do you think you are, waltzing in here?! Get the fuck out!"
"…"
Leon drew a slow breath and sheathed his sword. He was in a decent mood today, so he figured he'd try talking first.
"So this is your training hall, then?"
"Huh? Look at this little shit. You not leaving?"
"I'll grant you I walked in uninvited, but maybe try speaking a little nicer. If people just talked a little prettier, half the world's misery would disappear."
"Haha! What a load of crap!"
A round of laughter erupted from the boys. Leon laughed right along with them.
"Yo, you new here? You got any idea who I am? How about an initiation?"
"What's the initiation involve?"
The big one tapped his sword sheath with a smug little rhythm.
"A duel. With me."
"A duel? With me? You don't see all these things rolling around on the floor?"
Leon pointed at the dozens of flash balls, every one of them glowing red.
"The fuck are those, you moron? Your toys?"
"Ah. So you've never used them — that's why you don't know. But you know what…"
Leon tilted his head thoughtfully.
"Is your mother a whore by any chance? Did you grow up suckling a rag instead of a tit, and that's why you talk like such garbage?"
"…Wh-what?"
The boy stared as if he couldn't trust his own ears. Then his cheeks started twitching, his face flushed crimson, and fury took over.
"You little shit, who the fuck do you think you're talking to—!"
He started stomping toward Leon.
"Hold it. Stop."
Leon raised an open palm.
"Don't come any closer."
His face twisted as he pinched his nose shut with his other hand.
"…?"
"You reek of booze. You at least brush your teeth this morning, or what?"
"You son of a—!"
"I'm being serious. Let's at least maintain a baseline of personal hygiene."
"The fuck are you?"
"Where'd this guy even come from?"
"He must have a death wish…!"
The boys behind him closed in with ugly looks on their faces, surrounding Leon.
"Haha."
Hooo—
The stench of alcohol filling the air. A pack of complete idiots.
Leon felt his temper plunge off a cliff. His vision tinted red, and a ringing started in his left ear.
He'd tried to be civil. This was where it always ended. This was exactly why he hated talking. People who couldn't be reasoned with never listened no matter what you said.
Fssst—
He pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and let the smoke smother the smell.
"This guy's a total psycho."
"Look at that scar on his face. Been out playing tough guy somewhere, huh? Hmm?"
Wearing greasy little smirks, the boys crowded him with the lazy confidence of people who had numbers on their side. That was just how humans worked — put friends at your back and a headcount in your favor, and even cowards grew a spine.
"Ssssss—."
"You fucking piece of—"
The big one grinned nastily and reached for Leon's collar.
—Crack!
A dull, wet sound. His nose shattered.
"…?!?!"
The big boy's eyes flew open so wide they nearly split. Something had whipped across his face — he hadn't seen it at all.
Then the pain hit.
"AAAAAAGH!!! MY NOSE!!! AAAAAAAGH!!!"
He clutched his face and writhed on the floor. Blood poured between his fingers, painting the boards a vivid red.
"Man. Kid's got some lungs on him."
Leon exhaled a stream of smoke and snickered. Not a single drop of blood stained the left fist he'd thrown so fast.
"Ke—Kendrick!"
"What the fuck—!"
Shing-shing-shing!
Swords rasped free of their scabbards in a rush. Sharp steel ringed Leon on every side.
"…You just drew your swords, didn't you?"
Leon murmured it low. That familiar, manic grin was already curling at the corner of his mouth.
"…!"
The boys flinched at the look in his eyes and stumbled backward. They didn't know why. Instinct simply told them to move.
The next instant, Leon's form blurred.
Bagagagagagagak—!!
Every last one of their calves snapped the wrong way.
"…"
"…?"
"…?!"
A beat of silence — then screams tore through the training hall loud enough to shake the walls.
Crack!
"GYAAAAAAAAAH!!!"
Leon finished the job by shattering Kendrick's shin — the big one whose nose he'd already broken.
Wmmm—
He unfurled a light barrier of aura around them. Nowhere near as airtight as Aria's magic, but enough to keep most of the noise from leaking out.
"I really held back a lot today, you know."
A spent cigarette butt hit the floor, its last ember fading to ash.