Chapter 241
Chapter 241
'How should I bring this up?'
Logan sighed as he made his way to his training chamber.
There, he found the elderly Transcendent already seated and waiting for him. Managing his expression, Logan bowed respectfully.
"You're late, Master."
"I understand you're busy, Your Majesty. Skip the formalities and draw your sword."
Instead of immediately unsheathing his blade as usual, Logan hesitated briefly before speaking with a darkened expression.
"Master, I must make an... unreasonable request of you."
"...Excuse me?"
The Sword Duke's expression stiffened slightly at Logan's uncharacteristic demeanor. As Logan struggled to continue, the Duke's own expression grew serious.
"Speak freely, Your Majesty. If it's within my power..."
"It's just... I need to ask for a bit more support from the Esperanza territory."
"...Excuse me?"
The Sword Duke's face went blank for a moment as Logan squeezed his eyes shut and forced the words out.
"...Have things truly grown so desperate with the budget?"
After hearing Logan's explanation, the Duke looked stunned.
"Yes. Just one more year—one year is all I need."
Even Logan himself felt like a swindler saying this, but fortunately, his master let out a small sigh and nodded.
"Esperanza isn't particularly wealthy either, but given the circumstances, I suppose we have no choice. I'll do my best to secure the resources. However..."
"Thank you, Master."
"...The public opinion will inevitably worsen further. I trust you've considered countermeasures?"
"The moment next year's harvest season begins, the current sentiment will undoubtedly reverse. Moreover, we will have secured the strength to firmly grasp control of the kingdom."
"...Let us pray it unfolds as you say."
"It will—I'll make sure of it!"
Seeing the blazing determination in his disciple's eyes, the Sword Duke sighed again.
He had already sworn to follow Logan's will.
If he had decided to lend his strength, then it was only right to trust and support him to the end—though he couldn't help the frustration that tightened his grip on his sword.
"Very well. Then let us begin training."
"Yes."
Shhhink.
Logan exhaled in relief as he drew his blade.
'If Esperanza lends us just a little more support, we can hold out for three months. That should give us some breathing room.'
Just as he brushed off his worries—
"Watch out!"
BOOM!
A strike far beyond his expectations slammed into him, stealing his breath.
"M-Master?!"
"Starting today, we train as if it were real combat."
Was it just his imagination, or did those words carry a hint of emotion?
Paling, Logan hastily summoned his full strength.
Ever since the coronation, his training with his master had continued relentlessly—all for one singular purpose.
'Strengthening the kingdom's forces is important, but so is bolstering our Transcendent-level combatants. If we can't increase their numbers, then I must grow stronger.'
The memory of that single sword strike from Tris Hornsby—now hailed not just as the Empire's strongest swordsman, but the strongest on the entire continent—was still seared into his mind.
Even if, in his past life, Tris had never participated in the Empire's wars, there was no telling what might happen now.
Put bluntly, if he could overcome that single strike, he might be able to handle the dozen or so Transcendents who had trampled the kingdom during the Empire's invasion in his previous life.
Of course, before that...
"Your mind is wandering!"
BOOM!
Drip, drip.
...he would have to surpass the man standing before him first.
Gritting his teeth against the searing pain wracking his body, Logan took a step forward.
For a moment, his figure wavered—then split into two.
The afterimage technique he had demonstrated before.
Facing two Logans attacking from different angles, the Sword Duke remained composed.
CLANG!
"Afterimages aren't a trick that works multiple times on the same opponent!"
Instantly seeing through the illusion, his master pressed the attack, forcing Logan to retreat repeatedly.
Gritting his teeth, Logan thought:
'As expected...'
His master's martial prowess was overwhelming anew.
In their previous duel, he had managed a last-minute reversal thanks to his artifacts, Transcendent traits, and the secret art of Life Severing—but in a spar like this, there was no chance.
Even without using special techniques, his master's swordplay left no openings, and there was still so much to learn from every minute movement.
Just as Logan began to grow slightly accustomed to those movements—
CLANG!
His master disengaged with a powerful flick of his blade, leaping back.
"Now that you're warmed up, use your trait."
"Understood."
Logan didn't hesitate.
In his current state, he knew that even going all-out wouldn't reproduce the miracle of their previous duel.
Huuuuum.
The moment he willed it, a second Force Core emerged from his heart, doubling—no, amplifying all his abilities far beyond that.
Speed, strength, even his senses.
With combat prowess incomparable to mere moments ago, Logan launched a frenzied assault.
Swish! CLANG!
BOOM!
Yet, no matter how lightning-fast his strikes came from all directions, they couldn't breach his master's unshakable defense.
Then, watching Logan's onslaught with calm blue eyes, the Sword Duke spoke indifferently:
"Now, use that technique."
Logan froze mid-motion.
"...Are you certain?"
His reply carried the unease of one who had left deeper scars on the victor than himself.
The Sword Duke chuckled lightly.
"I've given it some thought since then. Now, show me."
Meeting that faint smile with one of his own, Logan took a deep breath and summoned the strongest attack at his disposal.
'Life Severing.'
If Flame Severing shattered supernatural powers, then Life Severing destroyed the very essence of life itself.
It wasn't merely a technique that disrupted Aura—it annihilated its foundation.
So demonic was this method that the Sword Duke had needed three weeks of care from a bishop-level priest to recover after their last encounter.
That was why Logan had never used it in their subsequent spars—but if his master was asking now, he must have confidence.
'Truthfully, even back then...'
Strictly speaking, hadn't he been the one who lost?
With that thought, Logan didn't hesitate to unleash that ultimate strike again.
And then—
The golden light that stretched forward like an encroaching tide was ultimately halted by a bizarrely interwoven crimson Aura barrier, its power spent before breaking through.
"As I thought..."
A light sigh emerged from the still-fading golden radiance.
As the light dissipated, revealing his master standing unharmed within the vivid crimson Aura, Logan staggered, feeling his Force drain away like a receding tide—yet he could only stare wide-eyed.
"H-how? That technique destroys the very essence of Force and Aura...?"
The Sword Duke responded with a bright smile.
"Because it never reached me."
"Excuse me?"
"I severed the space before me, preventing your light from ever approaching. If it doesn't touch me, there's nothing to destroy."
Severed space.
Hearing those absurd words delivered so matter-of-factly by none other than the Sword Duke left Logan dumbfounded.
"Thanks to you, I've finally overcome a wall that had blocked me for so long. For that, I am truly grateful, Your Majesty."
It took Logan a full beat to grasp the meaning behind those words—and when he did, his eyes widened.
"Master, don't tell me...!"
"Yes. At long last, I can bear the title of the kingdom's strongest Transcendent without shame."
"Ha..."
The pinnacle of Aura Users.
Excluding the legendary Ore Masters, this was the highest realm a Force-wielder could achieve—the very realm Tris Hornsby had undoubtedly reached.
"Ha... hahaha! Unbelievable!"
Against the Continent's Strongest Swordsman—whom he had vaguely assumed he alone would have to surpass—he now had another ally.
That realization made Logan spread his arms and laugh freely for the first time in ages.
And the Sword Duke...
Shhhink.
...watched his disciple and king rejoice as if it were his own achievement, then smiled and raised his blade once more.
"...Master?"
"A warrior's greatest breakthroughs often come at their limits. As mine did."
"Ah, well..."
"Draw your sword. Starting today, I'll teach you how to push past your limits—even when exhausted after using your trait."
A gentle, benevolent smile.
Which made it all the more terrifying.
'This isn't just about the budget, right? ...Right?'
Faced with that smile, Logan could only twitch his lips and reluctantly raise his sword.
Gasp... gasp...
"Huuu..."
"You've worked hard today as well."
"You've... huff... worked hard too."
Sprawled on the floor, gasping for breath, Logan watched as his master calmly sheathed his sword.
Normally, the Duke would have left without another word, but today, despite his body's protests, Logan forced himself to speak up.
"Master! Have you ever considered taking on more disciples?"
"...Excuse me?"
The Sword Duke's expression twisted slightly in confusion, but Logan pressed on, taking a deep breath before voicing what he had long kept to himself.
"There are talents who could become Transcendents with proper training. Under your guidance, their chances would only increase."
This was something he had contemplated for a long time—yet hesitated to suggest, fearing it might disrespect his master.
But now, it felt necessary.
'Luther Kyle and Wycken Calria are the worst possible teachers. And I can't do this alone.'
He had wavered countless times, but with his master in good spirits, now seemed the perfect moment.
However—
"...Not just anyone can become a Transcendent, Your Majesty."
His master's expression hardened as he shook his head.
"Not just anyone, Master. Victor—though he's currently on a mission—hasn't he impressed you? And my fiancée, Sir Eileen, too."
"...They certainly have talent. As does Your Majesty's younger brother. But such individuals will shine regardless of whether I teach them."
His master's praise was effusive.
The talents destined to become Transcendents in the future were already drawing awe in the present.
Indeed, Eileen had recently become a top-tier knight, while Victor had achieved the same weeks earlier.
"We don't have time to wait, Master. I train them whenever I can, but I want them to grow faster."
As Logan continued to persuade him, the Sword Duke's gaze wavered.
Then—
"There's also an archer who has reached the pinnacle of his craft. Wouldn't such a talent be a valuable experience for you as well?"
Mentioning Burdell tipped the scales.
The Duke's eyes gleamed with interest as his stance shifted.
"Oh? An archer? Hmm... Very well. Let us meet them first. So three in total?"
"Yes. Once Ronian returns, it'll be four."
"That many... Hm. Well, the new Royal Knight Order can be left to Luther and Wycken, so it shouldn't cut into our training time."
"...Pardon?"
Wait—was that why he hesitated?
"Very well. Bring them to me. I'll devote myself to their training. Of course, with less time, your training will become even harsher. Are you prepared?"
"...Yes."
Logan could only nod with a wry smile.
"But Your Majesty's brother still hasn't...?"
His master's next words brought to mind the younger brother he had tried hard not to dwell on.
It had already been over a year since Ronian's last message—when he had entered the depths of the Southern Mountain Range for training and vanished.
'I have to believe he's alright, little brother.'
"You're the king now, aren't you?! Mobilize the army if you must, but find him! Find him, I beg you!"
His mother's voice, sleepless with worry, echoed in his mind.
But with war against the Empire looming, he couldn't send troops into the monster-infested Southern Mountains—nor could he dispatch a small elite force to search that vast range.
Biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, Logan met his master's gaze.
"Ronian will return. Unharmed, and stronger than we expect."
It was nothing more than hope—but for now, he had to believe in his brother.
In the talent that had made Ronian the youngest Aura User on the continent in their ruined household, without any master to guide him.
While the royal palace buzzed with intense training and the Magical Military Unit gradually took shape, another royal decree was posted across the capital and royal demesne:
"Recruiting laborers for dam construction."
The terms were undeniably generous—work that would help farmers survive the winter and planting season.
Yet, for some reason, the rumors spreading through the capital whispered:
The king is enacting another reckless policy to exploit the people.
All that echoed were curses condemning the royal family's decisions.