Chapter 10
Chapter 10
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 10
Chapter Title: Rebellious Recruits
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Regardless of Ian's biting evaluation, the fight between the man and the girl was heating up more and more violently.
"You little runt of a girl, dodging every which way like a pro! Damn, you're quick!"
Whoosh! Whoosh!
As she dodged the halberd's chilling spearhead aimed at her torso, the weapon sliced through empty air and plunged repeatedly into the training ground's floor.
Crack! Crunch!
No matter how worn and ancient the training ground was, its floor was solid stone.
It meant even a weapon without aura wrapped around it couldn't pierce it as easily as soft tofu.
That massive build was no mere ornament after all—it was truly impressive strength.
"It's not that I'm dodging well."
Despite her petite frame evoking a small animal, the girl showed no intimidation before the menacing halberd as she shot back.
"Don't tell me you haven't considered that you're just too slow?"
Crack!
The halberd stabbed into the floor once more.
Tat-tat-tat-tat-tat!
Seizing the opening, the girl stepped onto the thick blade and leaped into the air.
Gliding through the sky, she pulled two small pouches from her bosom and hurled them at the hulking man, bursting them open.
Poof!
Purple powder scattered over the man's head.
Anyone but a fool could guess those powders were poison.
The man was no exception.
"Hmph! You think petty, cowardly poison like that will work on a man's man like me?!"
Grrrrrind!
Gripping the haft with both hands, he yanked the halberd free from the training ground floor with a screech of friction.
He then crossed his arms and spun it rapidly overhead.
Whooooosh!
The wind pressure he whipped up scattered the falling poison dust, unable to withstand the gale.
The three children who had been watching the bout with interest frowned as the powder drifted toward them too.
They each took measures against the poison in their own way.
"Tch! Filthy..."
Hummm!
The frail-looking boy silently formed hand seals, erecting a transparent barrier before him to block the poison dust.
It was the 3rd-class spell, Shield.
Step, step!
The sharp-featured boy of average build, with a dao at his waist, retreated precisely two steps—far enough to evade the dust.
"Eek! P-Poison!"
Flash! Flash!
The girl in priestess robes flailed in panic, spamming purification spells at the few specks that drifted her way—likely due to her timid nature.
'...Well now?'
Ian's gaze sharpened slightly as he observed the two clashing fighters and the other three handling the chaos.
According to Alex, they'd assigned squad members around the same age as Ian, who had just undergone his Gate Opening Ceremony.
Of course, the real motive was probably petty—they didn't want to waste strong, seasoned members on him.
Still, Ian couldn't shake the thought that these five were more skilled than expected.
One could tell much from a glimpse.
The two fighting were clearly far above average for their age.
And judging by the other three's responses, they weren't far behind either.
The reasoning was simple.
None of the three watchers seemed intimidated by the fight.
Not even the timid priestess girl frantically purifying the dust.
'To think talents like these are treated as rejects...'
Ian's eyes began to gleam.
In the eyes of the Hegemon who once ruled the empire, these were raw gems.
Unpolished by anyone thus far, they'd become nothing but troublesome headaches.
In other words, with proper shaping, they could shine like priceless jewels.
'This could be fun.'
The shabby quarters, rundown training ground, and mere five members made it a squad in name only.
But Ian was starting to look forward to life ahead.
Whoooosh!
As Ian quietly sorted his thoughts, the wind tousled his hair again.
Turning, he saw the man, rage boiling over.
"You damned girl...!"
Fizzle!
Faint but unmistakable orange energy seeped around the halberd.
'Oh? Aura too?'
It was clear.
Pathetic as a speck though it was, that was definitely aura.
Given his pissy attitude, he surely hadn't learned systematically in the squad.
To awaken it solo before twenty—impressive talent.
But admiration aside, Ian felt the need to intervene.
'Any longer, and this stops being kid stuff.'
With aura in play, it was no longer mere childish roughhousing.
Perhaps sensing the same, tension and resolve filled the girl's eyes as she eyed the man—unlike before.
...Rustle!
The girl prepared something from her bosom, while the man gripped his aura-clad halberd.
Soon, they clashed.
"Dieeee!"
Shrieeeek!
The halberd descended with aura, poised to cleave her skull.
Believing the killing intent real, the girl clutched something in her bosom to draw it—
Thwack!
A sudden hand pressed her elbow, halting her.
And simultaneously.
Kiiiiing!
Sparks flew red above her head.
A slender longsword had deflected the falling halberd.
Krunch!
The aura-wreathed halberd slammed into the ground.
Ian, foot planted atop it, spoke lowly.
"For a first meeting, that seems plenty for playtime."
Meeting Ian's eyes, the girl seemed to sense something; she slowly stowed her item and relaxed her stance at his words.
"...If that wild boar hadn't picked a fight out of nowhere, I wouldn't have bothered engaging."
Unlike the girl, the man—back to Ian—hadn't seen his gaze.
Still fuming, he bellowed.
"Who the hell are you to call it quits?! If you're interrupting, I'll deal with you first!"
Grrrrrind!
Veins bulging on his arms as he heaved, intent on uprooting the halberd—with Ian atop it.
Or tried to.
"...Huh?"
The man's dumbstruck reaction followed.
Why won't it budge?
"Is that so?"
In his frantic vision, Ian stood firm on the halberd, turning to face him.
"Then I'll just have to force some quiet on you."
Smack!
"Gack!"
A black, short, blunt sword now in Ian's left hand.
Its flat struck the man's temple dead-on; his eyes rolled back.
"You sneaky bas..."
Cheap shot?
He couldn't finish, collapsing with a final curse onto the training ground.
Thud!
Splash!
Cold water hit his face, sharpening his hazy mind.
"Ugh..."
Feeling the dull throb at his temple, the man opened his eyes.
"Awake?"
Five others sat around him, excluding himself.
Back at the training ground where he'd fallen.
"You sneaky bastard, hitting from behi—"
"Everyone's up, so let's do proper introductions."
Ian cut off the man's brewing tirade.
"Pleased to meet you. I'm Ian Lichtenauer, appointed captain of the Latent Dragon... Squad—or as that friend put it, this worm unit. You've all heard the rumors about me, so no need for long-winded intros, right?"
Subtle fury flickered in all five eyes, including the knocked-out man's.
Ian Lichtenauer.
Impossible to ignore the rumors.
A man bearing two ill-fitting epithets.
Direct lineage of the Lichtenauer Martial Clan—and a halfwit.
Those clashing labels made him a stumbling block for his brother, Eldest Young Lord Alex Lichtenauer.
When word spread that this guy—right after his Gate Opening—would lead a new strike squad, not even as a mere member, it was beyond baffling.
Unlike them, he started high on elite bloodline alone— a position ordinary folk couldn't dream of.
Worse, they'd been assigned as squad members under this trash captain in a trash unit.
No one here could stomach such an absurd appointment.
"Bullshit!"
Whoosh!
The revived giant, Ralph, erupted at Ian's intro.
"Born with a silver spoon, cushy life thanks to a great brother—no hardships ever—and you dare stand above me? Don't make me laugh!"
Ralph Kalia.
From one of the Lichtenauer Martial Clan's three major vassal houses, the Kalia soldier clan—renowned for wielding heavy weapons like demons. A collateral branch, but third son of current Patriarch Vito Kalia's brother—not distant blood.
Yet he drew this backwater duty due to his hotheaded recklessness and falling out of favor with Alex's rival successor, Manus Kalia.
For him, acknowledging Ian—ostensibly under Alex's shadow—was no easy feat.
Swish!
"Ralph's words are crude, but I agree. Strip away the 'Patriarch's direct heir' title—what right do you have to lead? I question if you're vessel enough for us."
The sharp-faced man with dao at his waist chimed in.
Ryu An Pallkion.
Fourth son of the Pallkion sword clan's Patriarch—one of the Lichtenauer's vassal houses alongside Kalia.
Why he fell from grace despite direct lineage? Simple: unlike his siblings, he chose dao over sword.
The Pallkion sword clan's arts were elite, renowned even in the Kan Empire of the East Continent.
To its Patriarch, the sword was religion, conviction.
Choosing otherwise sealed his fate.
"......"
Sylvia Clonen from the Clonen shadow clan—another vassal house—said nothing, oddly.
She merely eyed Ian strangely, the one whose gaze she'd met earlier.
The magic boy and purification girl stayed silent too.
Elite or near-elite blood shielded them from touch.
Their talents overflowed; serving under anyone felt wrong.
"Hmmm..."
Scratching his chin at the five awaiting his reply to Ralph and Ryu An, Ian spoke.
"So, to sum up—you all refuse to acknowledge me?"
Swish!
Ian dusted his rear and stood.
The five watched his next move intently.
Countless had tried recruiting them before.
Pariahs or not, they knew their own talents best.
—Please, let's make this work. Why go astray?
Some pleaded.
—Is that how you act?! You're a disgrace to the clan!
Others barked.
What would this halfwit do?
Perhaps whine to the Patriarch like the coward rumors said.
That'd be ideal.
Prove the halfwit a halfwit.
Prove the appointment a mistake.
Then they could strut back as wild dogs.
But defying expectations, Ian brushed past them toward the Nest building.
Ignoring them utterly, like stunned scarecrows.
"...What? Hey!"
Ralph yelled at Ian's back in the absurdity, but Ian didn't turn.
"You said you won't acknowledge me? Then get lost. I don't need brainless idiots with nothing but bloated pride."
With that, he walked in without another word.
The five stood dumbfounded, staring at his retreating figure.
"...What the hell was that?"
Swish!
As Ralph spat his bewildered frustration, one moved to follow Ian, lost in thought.