Please Spar With Me
The next morning.
"Kendrick and his lot have all been expelled."
Cheren spoke as she walked with crisp, measured strides.
"We've received formal letters of apology from their houses, and the main family has secured separate compensation as well."
She was filling him in on the negotiations with the nobles from the day before.
"As for this incident, Leon — I truly am sorry. The main family bears clear responsibility for the poor conduct of its trainees."
"It's fine."
Leon shrugged. He genuinely looked like he couldn't care less.
The training ground gatekeepers spotted Cheren and Leon, gripped their sword hilts, and bowed at the waist. The two of them gave small nods in return as they passed.
Cheren continued.
"Thank you for understanding. The family head also wishes to express his apologies. With that in mind, he asked whether you might be free for a meal sometime soon."
"A meal?"
Leon answered without a second thought.
"I'm sure the food will be excellent, so I won't refuse. You'll be joining us too, Instructor?"
"…"
Click.
Cheren's uninterrupted stride faltered for a beat. The sound of her shoes against the stone floor softened.
"I like how quick you are to decide."
"There's not much to deliberate over, is there?"
"I wonder. Any other cadet receiving the same offer would first start fretting over how to politely decline."
"Why?"
Cheren glanced sideways at Leon.
"If I asked you to eat alone with me, would you accept just as readily as you did just now?"
"…?"
Leon's eyebrows tilted at odd angles.
Is there a reason I shouldn't…? What's the problem?
"Would you care to join me for lunch later, then?"
"…I was saying that most cadets find me intimidating."
What Cheren had overlooked was that Leon was the sort of man who could shovel food into his mouth even in front of the Emperor.
"And the family head, like me, is someone a great many people find difficult to approach."
"Hmm."
Leon understood what she was getting at.
She meant that the stiff, blunt demeanor of father and daughter left people feeling smothered. Given that they were people who had honed their swords to the extreme — with killing intent practically leaking from them — it was only natural.
"Well, not me. I don't find you particularly intimidating either, Instructor."
Plenty of cadets were afraid of Cheren, with her sharp features and soldier-like manner of speaking.
Leon, of course, was not among them. From everything he had seen so far, he knew that was only the surface.
She was not a cold person. Nor was she some kind of machine.
She carefully looked after each and every cadet in Class A, and she was someone who genuinely rejoiced when Class A posted good results.
Whether anyone besides Leon had noticed that side of her was another question entirely.
"So please, don't overthink it with me — just treat me comfortably. Meals with you are always welcome, Instructor."
"…"
Cheren's pace slowed ever so slightly.
"…Understood, Leon. Thank you for saying that."
The faint upward curl of one corner of her mouth went unseen by Leon, who was walking on her other side.
Click, click—!
A short while later.
"We've arrived."
After cutting a long path across the training grounds, they came to a stop before an entrance that jutted up abruptly from the earth.
Guarding it were no fewer than four gatekeepers — more than at the main training ground entrance. That alone spoke to how important this place was.
The gatekeepers offered a sword salute, then opened the doors.
Grrroooan—
Leon followed Cheren inside.
Beyond the threshold lay a long staircase descending underground — wide enough for three grown men to walk shoulder to shoulder without trouble.
Every surface was finished in smooth white marble, and the walls on either side were adorned with murals of swordsmen. Above them hung lanterns powered by mana stones.
Click, click, click—
The stairs soon gave way to a level corridor.
A cool, dry chill hung in the quiet space. Expensive lamps set at intervals lit the underground hallway as bright as midday.
The center of the floor was glass, and beneath it a stream of blue-green groundwater could be seen rushing past.
Along the long corridor, grand doors stood at regular intervals. Each one led to a sparring hall of its own.
"This is the Jeseong Hall, where our family's advanced sparring halls are located. From now on, you'll use the facilities here. I should have told you yesterday, but… that was my mistake for underestimating your enthusiasm."
Private rooms, and far superior facilities at that — the advanced sparring halls of the Jeseong Hall. Cadets lodging with the Asonia family were all supposed to have access to them.
Cheren had planned to show him the place yesterday, but she hadn't expected Leon to bolt straight for a sparring hall without even unpacking. The result had been his run-in with Kendrick's crew.
"Channel mana into the badge I gave you and press it to the sensor plate beside the door. That will register one of the sparring halls to you."
"Oh."
Cheren walked him through the process.
Clank—.
"This is so much better."
Leon made no effort to hide his admiration as he stepped inside.
It outclassed every sparring hall he had ever seen. The outdoor ones suddenly felt like cheap imitations.
And more than that—
"…The mana density is incredible."
Dense, tightly packed mana particles filled the entire chamber. Mana drifted through the sparring hall in quantities easily double that of any ordinary place.
"Special treatments were applied to make it so. One of the Jeseong Hall's advantages."
"No, even my own family didn't have anything like this…"
It was a truly remarkable advantage. A single breath drew pure mana into his body, and energy welled up through his entire frame.
Training here would wring out efficiency at an entirely different level.
Leon surveyed the surroundings, then his eyes lit up as he spoke.
"Instructor."
"What is it?"
"Please spar with me."
"Come to think of it, this is a first."
Cheren spoke quietly, sword already in hand.
Leon fretted at his hilt, rolling his neck from side to side.
"What is?"
"Crossing blades like this, just the two of us."
It was only natural. Academy classes never involved one-on-one instruction, and opportunities for private sparring simply never arose unless someone went out of their way to arrange them.
"Then will you do this for me from time to time going forward?"
"Of course — if you want."
Leon grinned at Cheren's easy agreement.
The next instant—
Fwit—!
His form scattered like a heat haze.
Focus.
Leon slipped straight into Extreme Instant.
Cheren was an opponent he couldn't so much as graze even at full power. That meant he could pour everything out without holding back.
Mana surged hot from his dantian, racing through his circuits.
One step. Two. Three.
The light, springing footwork of the Heavenly Spirit Steps carried Leon into Cheren's range.
Tszzt—
At the peak of his speed, Leon planted a wide step to the right — a sharp change of direction.
He felt the clean economy of that step. It was the kind of movement only someone who had reached the realm of Flowing Instant could produce.
In that state, he immediately painted the form he had prepared in advance. Exploding with released energy, he unleashed the Thunder-Chasing Sword Form.
A swift-sword style forged with the intent of pursuing lightning itself — aimed squarely at Cheren's upper body.
And right then—
"!"
Leon's eyes flew wide.
"…"
Cheren's dark eyes, settled in absolute calm, tracked him with perfect precision.
As if he weren't fast at all.
—CLAAANG!
Cheren's blade fell like a guillotine. Leon yanked his swinging sword back and barely managed to block.
"Hup—!"
He strained with everything he had not to lose his grip. A tingling shock ran through his entire body. The hand that had caught the blow burned with numbness.
In a single stroke, Cheren had severed his flow and pinned his feet in place.
She gave him no opening, pressing the assault without pause.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
Through three exchanges, Leon could not take a single step.
The orthodox sword Cheren wielded claimed every direction around him.
No tricks, no deception — honest, and for that very reason devastating. Clean. Flawless.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
Against that textbook swordsmanship, Leon was rooted to the spot. The speed he was supposed to weaponize had lost all meaning.
Freezing Sword.
The meaning behind Cheren's moniker — that she froze her opponents solid — struck him with full force.
CLANG! CLANG!
CLANG—!
Cheren's blade shoved Leon's sword aside and leveled itself at his throat.
"…I lose."
Leon conceded defeat. The spar was over in an instant — precisely ten exchanges.
"Haa…"
He let his sword hang and scratched his forehead.
He hadn't even gotten a proper hit in. And it was obvious Cheren had been going easy on him the whole time. Something she could have ended in a single exchange, she had deliberately stretched out to ten.
"You said you've been training in swift-sword techniques lately."
"Yes."
"It seems you've never met an opponent who could outpace you."
"That's right."
It was entirely true. After Leon opened Extreme Instant, every opponent he faced had been too busy just trying to find where he went.
So by the Baltvin family's theory, Cheren's Instant Force far exceeded Leon's. She was a Master-rank martial artist — of course it did.
That was exactly why sparring with her would be invaluable. He could practice in advance how to handle an enemy who surpassed his speed.
"Shall we go again?"
Leon nodded.
"Please. But before that…"
"?"
"Mind if I smoke a cigarette first?"
"…"