Liam
“Husel? That's a name I've never heard before.”
Mahon, whose spirit was already broken, now answered Tiny's questions with utmost sincerity. But the response to the most crucial one left him deeply unsatisfied.
“Really? It's a name His Highness himself mentioned.”
“Uh... It's such a unique name that if I'd heard it even once, I'd definitely remember it.”
There was conviction in those words. The self-proclaimed senior knights they'd met through Mahon reacted the same way.
“I-It's the first time I've heard that name.”
Trek, who had swung his fist calling the kid arrogant, rubbed his bruised, blackened eye as he answered.
“M-Me too.”
Gilbert, who had tried to kick his shin for being too cocky as a newbie, limped on one leg as he nodded in agreement.
Their faces looked as if they'd been struck by lightning, and the desperation in their voices suggested they weren't lying, at least.
Of course, Tiny had no interest in the feelings of these fools who had tried to assert pointless discipline.
No one useful here.
How could the king know a name that even the royal knights in a minor post didn't?
What's the reason for this?
The king knew. But his knights didn't. His mind grew more tangled by the minute.
As Tiny sank into silent thought,
“Um...”
“Hm?”
Mahon, who had drawn the ire of his seniors for dragging in a monster, timidly interjected.
“...The captain might know.”
“Captain?”
“Yes. Our Relic Guard captain, Sir Truman, has the most experience and knows all about the royal court's major and minor affairs.”
Tiny glanced at the other knights, who all nodded vigorously.
“He'll be back from leave in a week.”
“You should ask him directly...”
Sir Truman, huh.
Given the state of the other knights, even the Relic Guard captain seemed unreliable, but stirring up the royal court right after his assignment wouldn't be wise.
I'll quietly observe the royal court's atmosphere for a week.
Tiny resolved himself, swallowing repeated sighs. But that resolution crumbled the very same day.
“Are you the source of that ridiculous rumor? I'm Greg Symbol of the Royal Knights. I'll expose the truth behind you spreading such nonsense! Draw your sword!”
...What the hell is this lunatic?
Tiny, who had been shoveling food into his mouth, sighed and set down his plate.
“They say even dogs don't bother you when you're eating...”
He had finished his initiation(?) and was just trying to eat quietly at the mess hall when some interrupter barged in. Right when he'd polished off twelve epitizers and was about to dig in properly.
“...Just looking at your filthy table manners proves the rumors are completely wrong. Hurry and draw your sword!”
Tiny unconsciously scanned the plate he'd set down and his own body.
It's all clean, though?
...No way. Was this guy picking a fight because a growing boy was eating a lot?
The food had been delicious, so his irritation doubled.
Thud.
“...Let's go outside.”
“Fine, follow me. I'll quash that absurd 'Devil Slayer' nonsense and prove Greg Symbol's reputation. If you had real skill, you wouldn't join some relic guard...”
His hand itched at the babbling voice. And exactly five minutes later.
Crack. Boom! Bang. Kwang!
“Guh, gurok.”
Thud.
Greg or whatever had his sword-wielding wrist seized, embraced the training ground floor three times intensely, then spewed blood and lost consciousness.
“Tch.”
He must have been brimming with confidence as a twenty-something Expert, but to Tiny, knights of that level were barely a warm-up.
“...Thank you for the lesson.”
Considering the onlookers, he gave a polite bow and turned away.
Should've gone easier.
A foreboding sense that eyes were gathering on the back of his head proved right, and from that day on, it became reality, tripping him up daily.
“I heard you beat Sir Greg. I'll judge if it was luck, Tann Royer...”
Kwaaang!
He beat down another cocky fool, more cautious than the previous meal-ruiner but still arrogant.
The next day.
“Robert Dumbbell, senior knight of the Royal Guard, challenges you to a duel...”
Bam!
The one who came more politely got a lighter touch.
Yet another day.
“Randolph Granches, vice-captain of the Royal Knights, wishes to test his skills against you.”
Pwaaang!
The knight who formally requested a duel got fought with a weapon, matching his level.
Only after the last vice-captain, a Blader-grade royal knight, fell did the moth-like duel challenges from knights start to dwindle.
Doubts about the skills of this suddenly recruited outsider knight—who looked like a childlike mixed-race(?)—had clearly vanished.
“Phew, now I can finally eat in peace.”
A smile returned to Tiny's face for the first time in days as he steadily stacked plates in the mess hall.
The challengers had grown more polite, but the past few days had been a real hassle.
Among them, at least...
Randolph, was it? That Blader-grade one was decent.
Recalling the Royal Knights vice-captain who had first made him swing Stamp, Tiny wore a faint smile.
Sparring with the strong was good medicine for him too, but lately, worthy opponents were scarce.
Thanks to his improved Nian Ti secret art and gravity attribute, his overwhelming power outstripped his realm.
“Still, that guy was pretty good.”
Plus, though unintended, combining proper exercise with gluttony had slightly increased his mana capacity, and he seemed a finger's width taller.
His body felt a bit denser and heavier, and that growth momentarily eased the frustration building in his chest.
If I can keep eating well, growing another head taller in a year wouldn't be impossible.
Of course, he had no intention of bulking up grotesquely like in his previous life. Just up to his natural limits.
He kept in mind that optimized it mana efficiency.
In about a year, will I catch up to Cloi's height? I can surprise her when we meet again.
Delicious food relieving stress was an eternal truth across ages. Forgetting Husel for a moment, Tiny smiled contentedly, feeling his belly fill nicely as he emptied another plate.
Thud.
“One more three plates of steak here.”
“...Yes, sir knight.”
He ignored the servant's pale face nearby. He was used to the shock at him eating more than his frame suggested.
But then, an ominous presence stirred from behind.
“Ho, so you're the infamous newbie? The one smashing our boys left and right... Devil Slayer, Glutton Devil, and other weird nicknames too.”
Glutton Devil? What the hell?
Frowning at the absurd moniker, he turned to see a dignified old knight with blond and white hair half-mingled.
His smiling face oozed leisure, and the subtle pressure he exuded made it impossible to relax, weaponless or not.
“Quarter-elf, huh? You really look young. And eating more than a dwarf, haha... But you seem Expert-grade—how'd you beat Randolph? You're a curious one.”
The old knight spoke amiably. But Tiny's senses couldn't help but sharpen.
Superior peak... No, early Challenger? Damn.
The unexpected powerhouse made even him cautious.
“...And who might you be?”
“Hm? Ah... haha, my apologies. It's been ages since I introduced myself here. I'm Liam von Peterson, captain of Carun's Royal Knights.”
Only then did Tiny understand the aura. As Royal Knights captain, he stood at the pinnacle of Carun's knighthood—fitting for such presence.
Realizing that, Tiny straightened and bowed.
“My apologies, sir.”
The 'von' in his name marked him as a noble with lineage or inheritance rights, unlike other royal knights selected for secrecy from birth. This one was fundamentally different.
“No need for such formality. An old relic like me is just happy to see young talent like you. Ah, care to spar with me too?”
“...Pardon?”
“A duel, that is. ...I don't know this Husel you're asking about either, but does that mean you'll refuse?”
“N-No, of course not. It'd be an honor.”
With no idea how long he'd be in Carun's royal court, he had no desire—or reason—to antagonize its power broker.
Building rapport with this old knight could make things much smoother ahead.
Knights bond through spars, after all.
Considering if the ones he'd smashed saw him fondly, it was a flawed mindset, but Tiny's eyes already burned with excitement.
Challenger-grade!
Hum.
His writhing Nian Ti vibrated joyfully, ready to etch new experience.
“I hear you're only twenty with that skill, yet applied to the Relic Guard. Why?”
Liam asked abruptly from the training ground center, but Tiny, aura rising fiercely, grinned and drew Stamp.
“Does that matter now?”
“It's just odd—a talent like you skipping the Royal Knights for a backwater post.”
“Beat me, and I'll tell you why.”
“Ho? Overconfident, aren't you? Young or not...”
“You learn who's long or short in a fight. If I win, will you grant a request?”
“Heh, geniuses are arrogant... Fine. You need a lesson for your own good. Come on!”
Seeing Liam crook a finger with a practice longsword thrilled him. His first proper Challenger fight since regression.
He'd clashed briefly with the crown prince's guard knight before, but weaponless, he'd been one-sidedly pushed.
I'm different now.
Realm the same, but proficiency up, body and mana slightly grown.
Above all, Stamp maximized his gravity attribute.
And this is just a spar.
Chance to gain experience against an overwhelming foe without risking life.
“I'll match your level, but brace yourself.”
“Then, gratefully...”
Thud.
Savoring the thrill, Tiny charged Liam and swung Stamp full-force at his head.
Hotter than you think.
Kwaaaaaang! Kwa-kwa-kwa-kwang!
A sudden gale whipped the enclosed training ground. Shockwave's echo from the clash.
The 1m warhammer met a similar-sized blade; space seemed to warp as floor stones cracked with creeeak.
“Ho!?”
At the center, Tiny grinned back at Liam's shocked face.
Ggrrrk.
“Don't... underestimate... or you'll regret it!”
Clang!
Lightening Stamp's weight instantly to slide off the blade, he dove in with a tackle. Crouching lower, his right leg spun 180 degrees, smashing Liam's shin.
Pwaaang!
But Liam's leg had turned steel-gray, and Tiny's strike only pushed him back a few steps.
Earth... attribute?
Not overexerting for the opener to draw full power, but the impact felt weaker than expected. Frowning, Tiny saw Liam burst into absurd laughter.
“Kuhahaha! You're a real find!”
Gray-white mana erupted from him, warping nearby space in illusion.
As expected.
A defense skill for new Challengers unskilled in space control with mana. His own Ironclad was based on it—familiar.
Plus the gray-white soul weapon rising from the practice sword like a giant blade.
From Liam's form, wrapped in rock-hard gray aura, Tiny gauged his style.
Tough and heavy, offense-defense integrated knight!
“Hahaha! No more holding back. You good?”
“Of course! This'll be fun!”
Tiny grinned deeply in response.
“Yeah, I think it'll be fun too!”
A smile like Tiny's soon spread across the knight's face, bored in his later years.