The First Fear
He took his stance—but he still could not make sense of what was happening.
"Uh…"
"You said this was just a simple test?"
He looked only at his father.
"Haah…"
"Is it because he's still just a little kid?"
His sister dropped her stance and called out to Father.
"Fer!!!"
"You're fine with this, right?"
Father nodded without a word.
"That's more like it!"
"If you don't want to get hurt, focus."
In an instant, the air around them grew heavy. A chill ran down his spine, and he gripped his sword even tighter.
"Don't look away."
His sister was right in front of him.
She's fast…
Bang!
He hurriedly blocked with his sword—but he was already being driven back by sheer force.
The difference in strength… is way too big.
"With power like that, you'll never be an adventurer!"
Lizette drove her blade forward hard. The boy's hands trembled under the pressure.
"Could you… go a little easier, please?"
"Go easy? On a test?"
"Pathetic!"
She knocked his sword aside and stepped back. Standing still without even taking a stance, she said,
"Come at me."
"I'll even let you land one hit."
He fell for the provocation. Slowly, carefully, he studied her stance.
Her eyes are on my legs…
Her right arm moved.
No.
That was a feint.
Father had told him—don't watch the opponent's eyes or feet. Watch the shoulders.
"Left!"
He twisted his sword upward.
"Looking one way while your body attacks another—nice."
"Your focus is pretty good!"
Lizette blocked the blade with ease.
"Huh?"
But this time her sword wasn't as strong as before.
If I just push a little harder like this—!
He pressed forward with more force. His sister only smiled, light and easy.
"You know what?"
Her blade went slack.
"If you push hard right now—!"
He slammed down on the locked swords with everything he had.
"Relying only on strength isn't a great approach."
The moment her sword slowly dropped, his center of gravity pitched forward.
"Pushing with all your might isn't everything."
Lizette's kick slammed hard into the boy's abdomen.
"Guh!"
His breath caught. It felt as if a boulder had been driven into his stomach. His body was thrown backward. Coughs tore from his mouth. Tears threatened to spill.
What is this… This isn't a spar.
That force couldn't even begin to compare to his usual matches with Father.
"Fer, is it really okay to go that far?"
Visca stepped in through the doorway.
"What can you do."
"A son needs to experience this at least once."
"Man… you're one scary father."
"Scary father?"
"I just thought this was the right opportunity."
Fer watched in silence. But his hands were clenched tight—tight enough that the veins stood out across the backs of them.
For Fer to hold back this much…
Visca's lips curved slightly.
"By the way, Lizette—you're really not holding back."
"Does she have to go that far?"
His sister began walking toward him, slow and deliberate.
"The feint was good."
"But that was all."
She drew close and whispered,
"Did you really think a little trick like that would be enough to win?"
"Monsters might fall for it."
"Humans don't play along."
He barely managed to brace himself on his sword and stand.
"If they don't fall for it, you just keep going until they do."
The boy's eyes were serious. A will to win no matter what burned in them.
You… resemble Lady Armel's child, but…
You're not the child I knew.
Lizette's blade flashed toward the right with blinding speed. It was so fast his stance fell apart.
"You're really slow."
The wooden sword shattered as it drove toward his ribs.
"Argh!"
Crack.
Breathing started to hurt. Blood came from his mouth.
I heard something break.
My ribs… hurt.
The sword is broken.
I can't even swing it properly anymore.
He no longer had the strength to stand.
At that, Visca began to grow alarmed.
"You heard that cracking sound just now, right?"
"Your son… is he okay?"
People around them started murmuring.
"What's with Lizette today?"
"Was our entrance test that harsh?"
"Physical Reinforcement on a kid?"
"That's cruel."
Even hearing those comments, Fer simply kept watching. He set aside the emotions he was suppressing and just watched.
"You're pretty out of your mind yourself."
"Be quiet."
"If I step in now, everything becomes pointless."
"That boy is facing a wall for the first time."
"You're going to make an eleven-year-old give up the sword?"
"If he's going to quit over a wall this size, he might as well stop now."
Then Fer crossed his arms and smiled.
"But that boy won't give up."
"What are you talking about?"
Fer silently pointed toward the child with his chin. Visca saw it and let out a hollow laugh.
"Getting back up with a broken sword…"
"That's some serious grit."
Even Lizette started to look surprised.
"I'm sure at least one or two bones are broken."
"And a little kid is enduring that?"
The boy rose with difficulty and spoke.
"When it comes to grit, I don't lose easily."
"It's not over yet."
He took a stance with the broken sword.
"Fine. Then I'll go all out."
"Let's see how well you can take it."
In that moment, he understood. This was a wall he truly could not overcome as he was now.
She was right in front of me…
He hadn't even blinked. It was just an instant. And yet—
He felt a presence behind him.
"When—?"
A chill ran down his spine.
"Her Physical Reinforcement speed has gotten faster."
Fer called Visca quietly.
"Visca."
"Is Lizette still going out to the battlefield?"
"Yeah. She still takes the occasional mercenary job in active war zones."
No wonder… her speed felt faster than before.
Fer let out a small sigh.
"Armel would be sad if she knew."
"If she heard she's still roaming the battlefield."
"Well, I'm not one to talk either."
His sister spoke in a sharp tone.
"Do you get it now?"
"You can't surpass this."
Lizette mercilessly kicked the boy with her right foot. He was shoved back helplessly and tumbled across the ground.
I have to get up…
Every time he drew a breath, it felt like something inside his chest was tearing. Something was definitely broken. But—he could still move.
"If you keep fighting like that,"
"Lady Armel will be truly heartbroken."
His sister smiled as she raised her sword.
"If she finds out her own child is this weak,"
"She'll be so sad."
He couldn't let that provocation slide. He simply charged with his sword, no plan at all.
"Just charging in blindly."
"What kind of training have you been getting?"
"Looks like Fer has gotten soft."
Lizette looked at him with a mocking expression. All the boy could do was push with raw strength.
Then—Lizette blocked the sword easily and thought,
As I thought. You're not the child I once knew.
She casually caught the broken sword.
Hah… let's just end this.
In that moment—his sister's aura changed.
This feeling… it's the same as when I fight Father.
Killing intent. The will to kill her opponent.
His legs began to tremble. The sword in his hands started to shake. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
Why am I like this…
It's the same killing intent as Father's… so why is it this terrifying?
Son…
Fer watched his trembling child, fear stirring inside him.
This is different from any killing intent I've ever shown him.
That… is genuine killing intent meant to kill my son.
"Fer… are you really just going to keep watching?"
"What are you talking about?"
"That Lizette is trying to kill your son. You're not going to stop her?"
"I won't stop her yet."
"That's a perfect enemy. She's carrying real hostility to kill your son."
"I know."
Fer continued calmly.
"If it comes to it, I'll step in and stop her."
"But for now, just watching might be the better choice."
"I can't understand this at all."
"Have both you and Lizette completely lost it?"
"If you're not going to—"
Visca drew his sword.
"Then I'll stop her myself."
Just as Visca was about to intervene—
"Don't, Visca."
Fer grabbed Visca's arm.
"Lizette must have her reasons too."
Visca pointed at Lizette.
"And those reasons amount to unleashing killing intent on an eleven-year-old kid?"
Visca shook off Fer's hand in anger.
"You crazy bastard. Keep this up and your son will end up hating you for it."
Visca kicked the door open and stormed out.
Bang.
I'll have to buy him a drink later.
Fer quietly watched his trembling son.
How long are you going to just stand there shaking, son?
But his hand was already on his sword hilt. The moment he judged it was even a second too late, he was ready to leap in.
"Why so scared?"
"Getting spooked by killing intent this mild?"
The boy was in a full panic.
Breathing… is getting harder and harder.
Just standing here holding a sword is almost too much…
I can't win…
Then Lizette smiled.
"What's so funny?"
"No. There's no one who doesn't know fear."
"If there were someone who didn't know fear…"
His sister looked at him with a cold expression.
"That person would just be an idiot who doesn't understand fear."
"Congratulations."
"You've learned just how weak you are."
She casually shattered the remaining sword as well. From then on, it was a one-sided fight. Lizette began beating him without mercy, and he could only keep dodging and taking the hits.
"Guh…"
I can't win…
I'm so scared…
He simply started running. To live. To not die. He just ran. The more he moved, the more his body hurt, and his sister approached with a smile.
"Stay away…"
Her wooden sword cut across his right arm. He could only scream. Blood wouldn't stop flowing from his arm, and he felt the strength draining from his body.
"Stay away?"
"Am I even trying to hurt you?"
Lizette looked at the bleeding arm and shook her head.
"Even after I've hurt you this much, you're still just standing there."
"If you're weak, the least you can do is fight to protect yourself."
She tossed the wooden sword she was holding to him.
"I'll lend you a sword."
"So get up one more time."
"Attack me."
He tried to pick it up. But his hands trembled. He couldn't put strength into his fingers.
I'm scared…
What terrified him was picking up the sword itself. Even when he sparred with Father, it had never been like this.
Lizette waited. She simply watched the sword she'd thrown, and did not attack.
"Why won't you pick it up?"
"……"
"Are you scared?"
At her provocation, the boy slowly walked toward the sword.
Is he going to pick it up?
He forced his body—ready to collapse at any moment—upright. He immediately thrust with the sword he held.
"Good spirit."
Lizette easily dodged the blade—but a small cut appeared on her cheek.
"Oh?"
"Your first successful attack."
But only for a moment. His sister looked at him with a terrifying face.
"That's your limit."
She lightly knocked aside the descending sword. It flew from his hand. He collapsed powerlessly right there.
I can't…
I can't get up anymore.
I don't think I can fight.
Seeing that, the silver-haired girl turned and stepped away from her position.
"Why are you so weak?"
"Kid."
"Your will was definitely strong."
"But… that's as far as it goes."
Her gaze fell on him where he lay—as if she were looking at him with eyes that told him to give up.
"I won't give up…"
He didn't want to break under that gaze, so he tried to force himself up—but no strength entered his body. There was no strength in his legs either. Still. He didn't want to give up.
"No. It's already over."
Lizette raised the sword she held high. She was preparing for the final strike.
This is… really the end.
He squeezed his eyes shut. He thought it was over now. All the strength drained from his body.
In that moment—from far away, the sound of someone running could be heard.
BOOM!
"Have you lost your mind?"
"You trying to get yourself killed?"
Lizette was sent flying.