Sparring with My Precious Disciple's Rival (2)
The vast training grounds of the Baekya Knights stretched out endlessly. With the entire order watching, I—a mere wandering swordsman—and Vice-Captain Aclerea faced each other squarely.
"……Stance."
Aclerea assumed her position, her sword brimming with crimson mana so intense it sent chills down the spine just by looking at it, pointed straight at me.
Without a word, I gave a slight nod and raised my worn old blade.
Clank...
It was the first time I'd swung my beloved sword since my body had rejuvenated to its prime. To outward eyes, it was nothing special—just a heavy, battered hunk of metal.
But to me, who'd shared over forty years of my life with it, this old blade was an irreplaceable partner.
Thud... thud...
Shing...
And now, gripping that partner once more in this youthful body, I faced her for the first time. Though her thoughts and expressions were rough and untamed like a wild beast, those red eyes clearly showed she cared for Ceres more than anyone—her friend and rival.
'……She's more than worthy to cross blades with me—perhaps too much so for an old man like myself.'
With that thought, I smiled faintly, drew my sword from its sheath, and slowly took my stance. There was no need to discern the blade's outline, as when I'd severed a savage basilisk's neck. This partner had guarded my life longer than any disciple, always at my side.
A light grip on the hilt after drawing it from the sheath was all it took.
"Hoo..."
The cool, heavy weight in my hand. With a short breath, I mirrored Aclerea's stance.
"All set, then. My thanks for waiting. Now... come at me."
The moment the nameless young adventurer—a guest of Captain Ceres—took his stance before Vice-Captain Aclerea, the watching knights doubted their own eyes.
"With mana that faint... he plans to block the vice-captain's sword?"
Unlike Aclerea's blade, thick with ferocious crimson mana visible to the naked eye, the mana aura from the stranger's sword was pathetically weak.
Mana Circulation was a technique even advanced knights struggled to master. The fact that someone so young had grasped it—or something akin to it—was impressive, sure.
But still...
"That's nowhere near enough against the vice-captain! We have to stop this...!!"
"Quit gawking and move! You gonna just watch some rookie get hurt because you don't like outsiders?!"
It was obvious he was woefully outmatched against their vice-captain. Outsider or not, knight or no, they couldn't stand by for this suicide attempt. The knights halted their spectating and rushed toward the grounds to intervene.
"Everyone, halt right there."
"C-C-Captain Ceres...!?"
But paradoxically, the voice that stopped the knights—rushing to save the outsider from their vice-captain's blade—was their own captain, Ceres.
"C-Captain! This is dangerous! Against you, maybe, but the vice-captain?!"
"Do you all see what's in his hand?"
"Pardon? W-What are you talking about...?"
To the knights warning of the peril, Ceres posed an odd question—one absurdly out of place in this dire moment: Could they see the sword in his hand?
"Of course we see it. He's holding a sword, isn't he? More importantly, we need to stop the vice-captain—!!"
"I see nothing."
"What?? What do you even—!?"
"He's surely holding a sword, but to me... it's invisible. Master truly is... haa..."
The knights could only tilt their heads at Ceres's baffling words. She claimed nothing was visible in the hand of the man clearly gripping a sword.
Only one person there understood what Captain Ceres meant.
'......The sword's gone. Why?'
Vice-Captain Aclerea, standing in the training grounds, facing Leban head-on.
The instant the man before her drew his sword from its sheath and took his stance, Aclerea doubted her own eyes.
'The sword... vanished?'
The blade he'd held had completely hidden itself.
At first, she thought it some cheap trick to mock her.
But then...
"No holding back, now. Come."
"......!!"
Leban's clear voice rang in her ears, and from his now swordless hand came the faint, chilling killing intent of a blade's edge.
It proved no mere illusion—this was real; he still held the sword, even if unseen.
'Not just Mana Circulation. This is different.'
Beyond mere blade reinforcement or merging self with sword. The difference was realms apart—not one step, but dimensions beyond measure.
Though they hadn't yet clashed, Aclerea knew it instinctively.
"......Doesn't mean. I'll back down."
"I know. Fight as you wish, as long as you like."
With swords drawn and aimed, their words were brief.
One refusal to yield. One encouragement to clash freely.
That was it. Aclerea's crimson blade swung for the man's throat.
The Baekya Knights' training grounds, where the two swordsmen began their bout.
Clang!!
Creeeang!!
The clear ring of clashing steel echoed through the air, the shockwave shaking the entire grounds. Lowly knights staggered back, unable to withstand even the impact waves.
Mid- and high-ranking knights, able to watch properly, rubbed their eyes in disbelief.
"He blocked every one of the vice-captain's swings without flinching?"
"Incredible... They're evenly matched..."
A young adventurer who looked barely twenty parried the vice-captain's strikes effortlessly.
With just one battered sword laced with mana barely rivaling a mid-tier knight's.
Deflecting and receiving Aclerea's storm-like assault, holding his own—it inspired awe beyond mere surprise.
"Haa... haa..."
But the one who understood his strength best—more than anyone present—was Aclerea herself, panting raggedly yet still swinging relentlessly.
Kak!
Kakak!
She knew better than anyone how luxurious it was to call this bout "even."
Even as he blocked and deflected her strikes, he'd not taken a single step from his initial stance.
Thrusts from front, side, rear—he repelled them all casually.
'......No openings. He reads every move... effortlessly.'
Like drowning in an endless sea, flailing desperately against fathomless depths.
That was the sword of the man before her, as felt in direct clash.
"Haa... haa... haa..."
Her endless barrage slowed with her heaving breaths.
Then...
Step.
A small footfall—he moved for the first time.
A crude, simple motion, devoid of flair.
"Hoo..."
Whoosh!!
A brief breath, then his swing.
Aclerea, who could barely track it with her eyes, was certain: If that blade aimed for her throat, nothing more could be done.
Thwack!!
"......Ow!? Hurts."
To Vice-Captain Aclerea, who had closed her eyes in resignation, I gave a light flick to the forehead.
Having anticipated why she'd shut them, it was a mild punishment for her insolence.
"Just a spar. No foolish thoughts."
"......Defeat is. Death."
"Then let that flick count as fatal pain enough."
To the vice-captain sitting dejectedly with her sword on the ground, spouting nonsense, I extended my hand.
"Just a misunderstanding from not knowing each other well. Up you get."
"......Rudeness. Was real. Didn't check properly. Doubted captain. Pointed sword at you."
"I saw it as clumsy expression, nothing more. Had you truly meant offense, I wouldn't have dueled you."
"......"
"If you truly regret the discourtesy... try expressing yourself a bit more gently from now on."
Clank.
"Before drawing steel to show your loyalty to the order and Captain Ceres."
I picked up her sword and offered it. After staring at my face a moment, Aclerea rose slowly, taking it and sheathing it.
"......You resemble her. You and Ceres."
In that moment, she faintly overlapped this nameless man with her captain.
'No foolish thoughts. Get up.'
'Where's the atonement in death?'
'If truly sorry, stay by my side from now on. As a pillar supporting the order with me.'
Two years ago, on that day of defeat—the first time Ceres had reached out her hand and spoken those words.