037. Iron Bear, Silva 3
Muscles bulged fiercely from Silva's arms, yet Bin didn't budge an inch. Anyone witnessing this would have been baffled. The size difference between them was staggering, after all.
In that instant, a chill ran through Silva's mind.
“……!”
He'd definitely put his full strength into it. And yet this small-framed kid wasn't yielding at all?
How... how is this possible...
Normally, with his power, shoving aside someone of that build should have been effortless. Which made the current situation feel utterly alien. He was Silva, the one who could push boulders twice—no, three times—his own size. For someone half his stature to hold him off? It was absurd from his perspective.
Bin gazed at the flustered Silva, a gasp of admiration escaping him unbidden.
To think it's this strong...
He wasn't marveling at his opponent. Bin glanced down at his newly regenerated arm from the battle with the Cerberian. The right arm covered in scales. Wrapped in white bandages, its black gleam was hidden from view.
Through this clash with Silva, Bin had confirmed one thing.
The strength in this arm is on another level compared to my old one.
If Willie had inherited the family's talent for speed among the siblings, then Silva was the one blessed with raw power. Bin's eyes widened as he thought,
I can match Silva blow for blow...
Bin harbored a question, though. He hadn't even gone all out yet. The one downside was that Luminare didn't benefit from this power. It was rooted in mana, not pure physical force.
As the two pureblood Bascon heirs locked eyes in a battle of wills, the nearby landowners and peasants stared in stunned silence. They shot Bin puzzled looks.
He's not budging...
How is he holding back Young Master Silva with that massive build...?
It defied all common sense. Body size, conditioning—everything favored Silva.
Silva stared at his trembling arm, his fiery temper cooling for a moment. He realized Bin wasn't some yapping pup.
Shoving aside his reassessment of Bin, Silva finally regained his composure and replayed the moments before.
There was no presence at all... Did I really miss this kid's approach? No way... Could he have used Mana of Agility to conceal it?!
Mana of Agility. The common wisdom was that awakening to this mana type allowed one to manipulate shadows. It enabled sly movements, sowing confusion in foes. It even permitted bursts of acceleration. And beyond that, hiding one's presence entirely. Of course, proficiency varied by individual.
But for the Bascon family, renowned for their exceptional affinity with Mana of Agility, this was unprecedented.
I've never seen a kid his age pull off presence concealment... Bin Bascon. Already at this level...
It wasn't strange for Silva to be so shocked. Bin might be the youngest in the family to reach mastery in presence-hiding mana.
Yet even in this, Silva didn't lose his smile. No, a smug leisure crept onto his lips. No matter how skilled Bin was, he judged the kid still too green to challenge a Super Nova like himself.
“Alright then, let's loosen up a bit!”
With a face brimming with confidence, Silva charged at Bin. Whoosh—the sound of slicing wind as he circled behind in a blur. Codic, dangling from Bin's belt, whipped his head around, mouth agape in surprise.
This bulky frame with that speed...?
Silva had moved in the blink of an eye despite his massive build. Speed unbelievable for his size.
Grinning from behind, Silva reached for Bin's waist.
“It's over!”
His eyes burned with the certainty of victory. If he grabbed Bin's waist and flipped him backward, there'd be no escape.
Just as Silva's thick hand brushed Bin's body, layers of shadows erupted from him. Whoosh—Bin slipped the crisis and scowled at Silva.
“I told you. If you're not sure, shut your mouth.”
Bin's aggressive tone made Silva grit his teeth, clearly irked. He aimed to be the next Bascon family head, after all. Being talked down to by this brat? It stung.
Bin spoke casually, as if unbothered, but cold sweat beaded on his forehead. His nape had prickled with mortal danger moments ago. To a bystander, it might look like a simple grab. But Bin remembered all too well from his past life. This guy's grappling prowess, powered by brute strength...
I only dodged once.
Bin kept his tension high, eyes fixed on Silva. Those massive arms could topple even giant monsters. If caught, his face would meet the dirt in an instant.
Silva eyed him leisurely, eyes flashing.
“Don't get cocky over one dodge. That was just warming up.”
His booming voice rumbled as he cracked his neck side to side. Crack. Crack. The sharp bone pops signaled his intent to get serious.
With eyes overflowing confidence, Silva drew the black gauntlets Akon from behind his back.
Gauntlets. Essential gear for knights, protecting hands and wrists in combat. All eyes turned to Silva's. Gasps rippled through the crowd.
“Th-that's...!”
They knew what it meant. The gray stone embedded on the back of the hand. A small shard with black runes, but unmistakably extraordinary.
Bin eyed the glowing gray rune and drew the greatsword from his back. Cling!
This'll be tricky.
Rune shards scattered across the continent. Even one could amplify a weapon's power exponentially. And now, its might was about to unleash.
White energy swirled around Silva's fists. The mana pouring off him dwarfed before. As Bin focused on those hands, Silva lunged with shocking speed. Like a charging bear. The difference from earlier was night and day.
The landowners and peasants gaped.
“F-fast...”
“...Is that the rune’s power?!”
Amid their awe, Silva slipped behind Bin again—this time too quick for reaction. Bin broke into cold sweat as Silva seized his waist.
One rune makes this much difference...?
A coin-sized rune packing such punch—it was telling.
Silva tightened his grip on the panicking Bin, anticipating Mana of Agility. Certainty filled his eyes, like a predator clutching prey. He tensed his thighs, poised to flip.
Bin tried prying off one arm with his own. But overpowering rune-enhanced strength? Near impossible.
Damn...
Silva smirked at Bin's frantic expression.
No other tricks up your sleeve, huh? This ends it.
Silva leaned back, sending Bin's body spinning clockwise through the air toward a head-first crash. But then, a white-haired figure appeared.
“Young Master Two, calm yourself!”
A voice rich with age. White beard fluttering, it was none other than Herion, captain of the 4th Black Wolf Division. Despite his years, he blocked Silva's backward tilt with both arms—an unbelievable feat of strength.
Herion's interference weakened Silva's grip. Bin twisted free left and right, then spun clockwise midair to land on his feet. Thud.
White Dog...
Bin muttered Herion's nickname, glaring coldly at them. Tension lingered briefly before they locked glares anew.
Silva shouted at Herion for interfering.
“Captain of the 4th! Why are you taking his side?!”
He used honorifics for Herion, who even Moden respected. Regret laced his voice. A golden chance to put the brat in his place, ruined by the captain.
Herion replied firmly.
“Young Master, look beyond the moment to the future. This gains you nothing.”
“……”
Herion gestured to the peasants.
“Isn't winning their support the goal?”
Only then did Silva think rationally. Scaring the serfs gained nothing—only benefiting rival heir Willie.
Herion eyed the now-composed Silva.
“Such actions won't win hearts. Remember your objective.”
Silva nodded in agreement, then glared at Bin.
“We'll settle this unfinished bout on the next mission. The Bascon family won't lack for clashes.”
Bin replied boldly to the challenge.
“Anytime.”
The two pureblood Bascon heirs stared each other down.
* * *
A short while later, Silva and Herion walked toward the mansion. Silva wore a regretful look.
“I could've humbled that arrogant punk right then...”
Herion tossed a meaningful remark over his shoulder as he strode ahead.
“First, check your own condition, Young Master.”
“...?”
Silva tilted his head at the cryptic words.
“What do you mean...?”
His steps halted. A chill crept up his nape. Touching it, he felt warm blood trickling.
Belatedly, Silva recalled the moment. As he'd grabbed Bin's waist to flip him—Bin's greatsword had pressed against his throat. A strike without presence. Lucky it lacked killing intent. Otherwise, his head would've rolled.
Staring at Herion's back, Silva thought,
Did the captain know...?
Had he flipped Bin fully, the kid would've been gravely hurt. But if Bin had meant to kill, Silva's neck would've been severed.
Bin Bascon. To think he's this capable...
Gulp.
Silva swallowed involuntarily. He pictured Bin not as a fifteen-year-old, but his own age.
He's definitely gunning for the heir's seat...
Silva's fierce gaze wavered at last.