Chapter 84
Chapter 84
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 84
Chapter Title: Uneven Progress
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Time flows equally for everyone.
For the emperor who rules a nation, and for the beggar wandering the streets.
Regardless of status or race, it is an asset granted without discrimination to all.
However, how one spends that time is up to the individual.
Even with the same amount of time given, the results each person reaps can differ as vastly as heaven and earth, depending on how they use it.
In that sense, this particularly harsh winter had been a profoundly meaningful time for the Latent Dragon Squad.
The Latent Dragon Squad's training grounds.
Snow was falling heavily from the sky, blanketing the world in white, but the atmosphere here was far from cozy.
Clang!Clang!
A menacing greatsword and a flurry of twin swords clashed repeatedly in the air, leaving chaotic footprints scattered across the training grounds.
The collision continued until the snow was thoroughly churned into mud, finally reaching a stalemate as the man wielding the greatsword staggered to his knees.
...Thud!
He had held out until the end, but it still wasn't enough. His trembling knees finally met the snow on the training grounds.
"Huff... huff..."
The man, Ryu An, leaned on his greatsword, gasping for breath raggedly. His body was covered in wounds.
It wasn't just his body that was injured.
He didn't have the strength left to twitch a single finger.
If he hadn't been gripping his greatsword... he wouldn't have merely knelt; he would have collapsed face-first in an unsightly heap right there.
"Hm..."
Ian, facing him, wore a relaxed expression in stark contrast to Ryu An's heaving breaths. He was calmly evaluating their spar.
"Not bad. It seems like you've finally gotten a feel for the essence of the sword."
"...Haha. You monster... freak."
Ryu An let out a hollow laugh at Ian's curt assessment, as if it was absurd.
Last autumn, after the Latent Dragon Squad brilliantly completed their mission with the royal family in Shurton and returned, Paon had personally bestowed upon them an enormous reward.
The Guardian Pill.
Among the Lichtenauer Martial Clan's lower strike teams, it was a special elixir granted only to those who achieved truly standout merits.
Some ignorant fool might scoff—what's so great about a mere pill for lower strike team warriors?
But that was just empty talk from those who knew nothing.
There were countless lower strike teams in the clan, too many to count.
Among those lower teams as numerous as grains of sand on the sea, only one or two at most received the Guardian Pill each year.
So how difficult must it be to prove oneself worthy of it in the clan's eyes?
Yet those who crossed that high threshold and received the Guardian Pill invariably grew into the clan's core warriors in the future.
In other words, beyond its potent effects, the Guardian Pill was like a guarantee—a ticket that etched one's name firmly into the minds of the clan.
Paon had bestowed this precious item on every member of the Latent Dragon Squad. Everyone except Ian, that is.
Most of the squad members who consumed the Guardian Pill showed remarkable growth.
Ryu An, right before his eyes, was a prime example.
He had already reached the junior Expert level by passing through the Trial Gate, and after various experiences, he had arrived at the brink of breaking past that stage.
In that state, taking the Guardian Pill allowed him to shatter through in one go, stepping into the mid-level Expert realm.
And he was only seventeen.
It was an astonishing achievement that wouldn't shame him anywhere, but coming from Ian, the lukewarm praise was infuriating.
'...Well, it's Ian. Of course it's possible for him.'
And rightly so. While Ryu An rested, Ian had seamlessly taken on Sylvia's poisons and hidden weapons.
In a posture so relaxed he hadn't even broken a sweat, unlike Ryu An's labored breathing.
In fact, Sylvia was the one starting to bead with sweat... Their levels were simply on different planes.
"Not just catching up—somehow, the gap keeps widening as time goes on."
Wearing a defeated expression, Ryu An ultimately accepted it.
Their captain had always exceeded expectations from the start.
"Kyaaah!"
As Ryu An's thoughts continued, Sylvia screamed and tumbled over.
"Sylvia. There's still a big gap between your poisons and hidden weapons. If you truly want to walk the path you're pursuing... double or triple your focus on hidden weapons during personal training."
"Ugh... My hands are already blistering as it is...?"
"Human hands don't burst that easily."
"......"
Sylvia had no retort to Ian's dictatorial words.
The Clonen Clan was renowned for their ghostly mastery of poisons and hidden weapons, but strictly speaking, poisons were the main assault, with hidden weapons as support.
Poisons were far more efficient than darts, so it was only natural.
Yet in that Clonen Clan, there existed a heretical technique left by the former patriarch before last, known as the Slayer King.
Sylvia was deeply fascinated by this technique, colloquially called the Slayer's Method.
She was captivated by tales of how it allowed one to wield immense power against the continent's strongest using only hidden weapons, no poison.
Even Sylvia, whose hidden weapon skills far surpassed other Clonen clansmen, couldn't escape the clan's emphasis—her poison mastery still outpaced her darts.
That was the very point Ian had targeted.
"...I'll try harder."
Sylvia gathered her fallen darts from the ground, blood dripping from her hands.
"Next. Helena and Dane, you're up..."
Ian, having lectured Sylvia thoroughly, called for Helena—but he couldn't finish before swinging his sword.
Clang!
Slash!
With his short sword, he deflected Helena's arrow; with his long sword, he cleaved Dane's flaming spear.
True to their roles as the squad's ranged attackers and supporters, they had ambushed Ian from afar.
"Ha, haha... F-Failed."
"D-Damn! That crazy bastard sliced through a 4th-circle spell, Flame Lance, like it was paper...!"
Ian smiled back at awkwardly grinning Helena and staggering, flustered Dane.
"If you've attempted something and failed, that means you're prepared to pay the price, right?"
Shrrrk!
Ian's ordinary-looking sword extended like a whip.
"W-Wait a sec. Why... is the sword growing? You're not seriously going to fight us for real, are you?"
"N-No way... You're joking, right?"
The two paled as Ian uncoiled the Twin-Headed Blood Serpent, but he just smiled casually.
"Why not? You're ranged specialists, so I should match that and attack from afar. Your enemies won't always be just knights."
It made sense. Perfect sense, even...
'But why does a vein look like it's bulging on his forehead?'
"Here I come."
Shrrrrk!
"W-W-Wait! No violence... Kyaaah!"
"Gaaah!"
With the pair's screams echoing for a while, the sun finally dipped below the horizon, casting its last light over the world and the Latent Dragon Squad's training grounds.
The sun that had brightly illuminated the world vanished, replaced by twin moons in the late night sky.
Most people would have fallen asleep, pondering the coming day.
But here, on the Latent Dragon Squad's training grounds, a lone shadow still practiced.
"Hoo... hoo..."
Ragged breaths poured out continuously.
Boom!Boom!
Before they could settle, the heavy halberd whirled like a pinwheel, sweeping all directions.
Handling a halberd—infamous even among heavy weapons—like a shortsword was a skill worthy of admiration.
Yet the man seemed dissatisfied, swinging it relentlessly as if chased by something.
How much time passed?
"...Damn it!!"
Clang!
Ralph spat a fierce curse and hurled his halberd to the ground.
Drenched in sweat, heaving roughly, his eyes were bloodshot, veins burst.
Impatience, frustration, resentment... His red eyes swirled with indescribable emotions.
"Why, why won't it work?!"
Bang!
Ralph slammed the training ground in anguish.
He felt emotions similar to what Ryu An had toward Ian during the day's training.
With one key difference.
Ryu An admired Ian and vowed to chase him with more effort.
Ralph envied Ryu An—and his feelings were far more negative.
"Why can't I break through to mid-level... while everyone else has?!"
Yes.
The Latent Dragon Squad had been rewarded with Guardian Pills from Paon for their merits.
Most members broke through their walls, ascending to higher realms thanks to its power.
Unfortunately...
Ralph wasn't among that 'most.'
In fact, because of him, it was 'most' instead of 'all.'
Only Ralph had failed to grow despite consuming the pill.
He vaguely knew why.
The capital, the battle in Shurton.
Ryu An and Sylvia had sacrificed their bodies in a brilliant flesh-and-blood strategy.
Ryu An lay bedridden for a while, but they captured the enemy.
But Ralph and Dane?
Without Helena's arrows holding them off and Ian's timely arrival...
That cat-like woman would have snatched Princess Isabelle in seconds.
No one said it, but Ralph and Ryu An saw each other as rivals.
It was natural.
Both vanguards, wielding heavy weapons—greatsword and halberd—from the three great vassal clans.
Two hot-blooded youths with so much in common were bound to compete.
Thus, Shurton's battle results left a massive knot in Ralph's heart.
But he didn't despair.
Ryu An shone this time; he'd do better next. Simple.
He was wrong.
From that day, a gap began opening between Ralph and Ryu An.
Ryu An reached mid-level Expert first among the squad; Ralph still hadn't broken junior.
As others soared past their walls one by one...
Ralph's impatience grew relentlessly.
Now, with winter waning, daytime training alone left him too anxious for sleep.
"At this rate, nothing's changed from before...!"
Aura, aura, aura!
That damn aura!
Becoming a junior Expert, proudly unleashing aura to defeat Asurin against the enemy squad...
Ralph had felt like he owned the world.
Before the joy faded...
Aura grabbed his ankle again.
Boom!
Frustrated, Ralph smashed the ground once more.
"Damn...!!"
But venting changed nothing.
After grumbling for a while, Ralph slung his halberd over his shoulder and trudged away.
Training tomorrow—he needed some rest.
With Ralph's sigh, a long silence blanketed the training grounds.
How much time passed?
...Swish!
Much later, a shadow hidden in the corner confirmed no one remained and cautiously emerged.
One corner of his mouth curled into a sly grin.
"Hmm, judging by his state... It won't be long. Soon."
The man muttered cryptically, smiling in satisfaction.
Moments later.
Whish!
A gentle breeze swept the grounds. Aside from Ralph's training marks, no trace of anyone remained.
The man who had watched Ralph vanished quietly.
Like a mirage...