Three Months Later
Exhale.
With a deep breath, a massive warhammer blazing with blue mana like roaring flames slammed into the empty air.
Boom!
The hammer struck the head of an imaginary foe and halted without the slightest tremor. A faint smile tugged at the lips of the young man watching its tip.
'Good. I'm recovered!'
He was finally free of the aftereffects from using the Relic Humanitas's compression barrier. It had taken a full three months. His heart had raced with impatience during those anxious days of what felt like wasted time. If he hadn't achieved even minor gains while mending the rift between his soul and body, it would have been pure agony.
"Ugh... that really dragged on."
Tiny looked up at the sky, then raised a hand to compare his eye level with the weapon rack across the training ground. He'd shot up nearly two hands' worth in those three months, now standing close to 170cm. For a fourteen-year-old, it was respectable height—but still not satisfying. He was shorter than most ordinary adult men, let alone knights.
Of course, he wasn't fully grown yet.
'About Cloi's height now?'
His increased height had brought proportional gains in weight, muscle, and mana—a huge leap from three months ago. But that was just the kind of change anyone could achieve by eating well and training hard anywhere. His gluttony and growth secret(?) had produced similar results plenty of times before.
'The real breakthrough... is this.'
Snap.
With a light finger flick, one of the small pebbles scattered across the training ground floated up effortlessly. It wasn't hard for a knight with exceptional mana control, even without being a mage. But no trace of mana touched this pebble.
It resonated with mana, yet was fundamentally different. Tiny's expression grew strange as he gazed at it.
'The power of the soul... Never imagined something like this existed.'
A bizarre force he'd sensed while reconciling his soul and body. The hint had come three months ago, during the Kraken incident, by pure chance. He'd questioned why his body remained unscathed despite pouring out his full strength repeatedly.
Jenas, a Challenger-grade knight, had been bedridden for three months after two Over-Rebounds from squeezing beyond his mana limits in his exhausted state—even divine power couldn't heal it, leaving him to recover through rest alone.
And Tiny, though at a lower realm, had pushed far harder. From hurling the hatchling's corpse at the Kraken, chasing the flying relic to smash Husel once, persuading the Kraken once, battling the dark sorcerer twice... He'd wrung out nearly every drop of strength and mana for four Over-Rebounds.
Yet no aftereffects lingered. It was baffling.
'Honestly, even damage worse than Sir Jenas wouldn't have been surprising.'
His only repercussion had been the soul-body rift from forcibly drawing out the relic's unique power. At first, he'd thought his past life's superhuman soul realm made it possible. But mending the rift revealed otherwise.
'Not entirely unrelated, though.'
His soul's overwhelming power relative to his body had minimized the damage, but more than that...
"The soul's power substituted for mana and physical strength."
Even saying it himself, it was hard to believe. If this were possible in his past life, he wouldn't have needed to squeeze his life force dry.
"Impossible... yet here it is. Ha..."
As he felt it now, the soul's power was real. Though, unlike when his stamina and mana had bottomed out, he could only consciously draw a minuscule amount.
And it might only be feasible at his current lower realm, but through it, he glimpsed new possibilities.
'The legend that the 9th stage, Aura Master realm, involves wielding the soul... might be true.'
A clue to surpassing his past life's realm could lie in this soul power.
"Even if stopping the calamity goes slightly awry, I can just become an Aura Master—or beyond—and smash the legion commanders' and Demon King's skulls myself."
With those determined words, Tiny's eyes gleamed anew.
'If I keep growing like this, it's not impossible.'
Of course, he wasn't naively optimistic that everything would go perfectly. It was just self-motivation for what he planned next.
Tiny kicked off from the training ground and dashed toward the inner castle.
* * *
Hummm.
The man sitting cross-legged in meditation, eyes closed, suddenly floated up. Silver mana swirled around him like wind before settling like frost.
His eyes snapped open, absorbing the mana back into his body. Jenas, the man himself, smirked at the youth standing blankly before him.
"Approaching someone during mana circulation is a grave discourtesy, Tiny."
Unlike the ancient Western Continent's mana circuit secrets passed down by knights, the Eastern Continent's mana circulation method—built on mind-calming techniques(Heart Methods)—treated external stimuli during training as extreme dangers. It was well-known that even a touch could cause vomiting blood and severe injury, one of its key weaknesses.
Jenas's teasing words stemmed from that truth.
But Tiny just smiled back and shook his head. Three months of unavoidable cohabitation had made them quite close, after all.
"The Valentia mana circulation doesn't require sitting, does it? I hear you can recover even mid-battle."
The Sword Emperor does it while fighting—not once or twice. Don't sell me that line.
It was half-joking, laced with that implication.
Yet Jenas's eyes widened slightly.
"Ho, you're casually dropping a method I only realized during recent recovery. Just how much has His Grace taught you?"
Cough. Ah, it varies by realm...?
"...Ahem. Well, to avoid misunderstanding, I've never learned the Valentia mana circulation."
"I can tell just by looking. Anyway, you're fascinating every time, Tiny. You seem clueless, yet occasionally know some offbeat secret..."
Under that intense gaze, Tiny had nothing to say and averted his eyes to the ceiling, pretending otherwise.
"Uh, um. Why didn't you learn gravity arts from Sir Jenas? The Sword Emperor—er, His Grace—doesn't seem stingy."
Obviously changing the subject with a random question, Jenas could only chuckle again. Moments like this made him seem endearingly age-appropriate.
"When I sought His Grace to join Blue Wing, I was already an Expert. Does that answer it? And I believe cold winds are no less than gravity."
"Ah... haha. Yes, of course... Uh, um. Anyway, the reason I came is..."
Another awkward pivot. Growing impatient, Jenas spoke first for the hesitating Tiny.
"...You've finally resolved your issue. And decided your path."
"...Yes."
"Good. So, our next destination?"
Jenas gazed earnestly at the boy—no, the still-youthful but proper young man before him, far his junior. He could guess from the hesitation and feigned nonchalance, but his heart still thrilled. He followed his lord's orders, but this youth held command of the plan—their course hinged on his choice.
And the awaited answer was:
"We head to the Imperial Capital."
It suited him perfectly.
* * *
"Is that so... The day has come for you to depart."
"My apologies, Your Highness."
Young King Henry III, seated on the jade throne, looked down at the black-haired knight kneeling on one knee with reluctant eyes.
'The hero who saved the kingdom from crisis. Radiant Knight, Tiny Morse.'
The genius knight, absent from all official events save the late king's funeral and his own coronation, was drawing growing curiosity. He wanted to keep him in Carun's embrace, but...
"Rooting out demon worshippers... Even without the late king's promise, I couldn't deny such a goal."
How could he stop someone hunting the scum that nearly doomed the kingdom?
"I'm sorry, Your Highness."
"No, what do you have to apologize for? If anything, the royal family and I owe you endless gratitude... 'He' goes with you too?"
"Yes."
"Very well, go forth."
Tiny looked up in mild surprise at the king's hearty reply. He'd braced for tedious back-and-forth, but it came too easily.
Seeing his reaction, the king gave a wry smile and continued.
"Per your will, I've notified each nation that they're targeting the Relics. Not sure how they'll respond or prepare, but it'll at least throw sand in their schemes."
"...Thank you, Your Highness."
In his past life, it wasn't like this. As Relics vanished mysteriously amid disasters, few suspected foul play. Their symbolism and necessity had faded; incidents had varied causes, some blatantly unrelated to demon worshippers. Some even claimed the useless relics vanished on their own.
Only Elvenheim's elves had earnestly sought the lost ones.
'But now it's different.'
A cataclysm involving even the Kraken had struck, revealing demon worshippers targeting Relics. Now, even seemingly unrelated incidents would prompt investigations, and nations would guard their Relics more vigilantly.
Henry III's measure alone would prove effective.
"I believe it'll help greatly."
A genuine smile formed, but the king wasn't done.
"Haha, how dare I claim aid from mere words? The late king's promise isn't enough for my satisfaction, so accept my gift before you go."
"...Pardon?"
"Your weapons suffice, and artifacts don't fit your growing frame yet. But this is different. For you, too. Bring it in!"
The king gestured with a smile.
"Yes, Your Highness."
Grrrind.
At the signal, the throne room doors opened. Liam von Peterson carried a silk-draped object preciously, flanked by escorting knights.
Tiny's eyes widened at the unexpected sight.