The Sword, After So Long (2)

I was stunned.

Indeed, this was the Lion Heart Knights, hailed as the empire's strongest.

'A training sword is Rare grade.'

The level restriction was a whopping 200. If I hadn't taken down that giant evil beast, I wouldn't even be able to equip it, would I?

That alone was astonishing enough.

But that wasn't why I was stunned.

"Actions speak louder than words. Here, take it. Sir Hoyeol."

The training longsword handed over by Harcon.

The moment I gripped it—

A memory from last night flashed unbidden.

Push-ups. Burpee tests. Running. Pull-ups…

It had been closer to abuse than training.

And now, the aftermath of that abuse hit me hard the instant I held the hefty sword.

……I truly couldn't hold back my shock.

'What a fool I am. Real, bone-deep suffering!!'

Setting pride aside, this was just plain stupid!

But if I'd known that…

'……I wouldn't have been in middle school second year.'

So I had no choice but to push through.

'Ugh, seriously!'

I fought through the muscle pain ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and raised the sword.

Of course, I didn't let it show.

With a blank expression, I tried to assume a proper stance.

I'd swung daggers plenty of times.

But a proper sword like this? First time since becoming a player.

It was only natural I didn't know how to hold a longsword.

So I recalled a memory.

'……How did Harcon hold his sword?'

Once again, it was Grandfell's talent that shone.

My body remembered it perfectly.

I gripped the sword and lowered into stance just like Harcon in my memory.

I was a total novice with swords, so accurate judgment was impossible…

But at least it didn't look sloppy.

Thanks to perfect mimicry.

No gaps I could sense.

'And most importantly.'

Look at their reactions.

"……Impossible."

"……!!!"

It wasn't just Harcon.

The knights, who had been resting, stared at me as if entranced.

Far from shrinking under their gaze, I was enjoying it?

'If only this damn muscle pain wasn't here……!'

I gritted through the pain.

And flowed smoothly into the next motion.

Swoosh— a diagonal slash.

Another mimicry of Harcon's strike.

Who knows how it looked to others.

It was mimicry, after all, and would always be.

'Just like magic.'

In short, another bottomless pit.

Why were there so many of these leaks in my life?

I thought that inwardly, but what could I do?

Better a leaky bucket than none at all.

Just fill it up, right?

"……Ah, I got lost in thought for a moment."

Suddenly, Harcon shook his head.

Then he addressed the watching knights.

"Regular training ends here. Return to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠your duties."

The knights dispersed in an instant.

Only Harcon and I remained.

'……Whatever the reason, it's a chance.'

A chance to rest my screaming, muscle-torn body, even a little.

Now I understood why it was called a training sword.

So heavy. Swinging it alone built strength.

Anyway, as I moved to set the sword down—

"Sir Hoyeol, you never cease to amaze me!"

"What do you mean?"

"No matter. Could you show that sword strike once more?"

……Hey, Harcon.

You too? My shoulder's about to pop off…!

But whining to the noble Grandfell?

Such a word didn't exist in his dictionary.

With pride transcending even flesh, I gripped the sword again and swung.

"Indeed, my eyes did not deceive me."

Want to laugh? I wanted to snap back.

But I couldn't, and Harcon gave no opening.

"Sir Hoyeol, that strike was a mimicry of my form, yes?"

"Well spotted. Sir Harcon."

Indeed, captain of the Lion Heart Knights.

Lv. 600 was no empty number.

'Spotting it's mere mimicry at a glance.'

Yet I brazenly continued.

"To seek mastery, one must grasp the basics. And the only foundation worthy for me was your swordsmanship, Sir Harcon."

In summary: Only your swordsmanship was worth learning.

If I had even one sword skill, I'd blame it on pride.

But I had jack shit…!

'What a bluff.'

But I'd done this before.

I sheathed the sword without a change in expression.

Clack— Even if asked again, I couldn't.

My knuckles still throbbed.

Thankfully, no encore.

Harcon's face grew serious.

"If that's the reason, I cannot help but feel the pressure. For you to wish to enter swordsmanship through me… That alone is a heavy burden."

His eyes burned with enthusiasm.

"Now that I know your innate talent, this is no longer a light matter. Peaceful days are gone!"

Peaceful days gone?

'Sounds ominous for some reason.'

No, more importantly, innate talent?

All I'd shown was a mimicked ready stance and slash.

Talent in that?

"One cannot simply mimic what cannot be mimicked."

Harcon gripped his sword.

Assuming the exact ready stance I'd taken.

Seeing beats hearing a hundred times.

I understood immediately.

'……No illusion.'

Truly no gaps.

Because no gaps showed, one couldn't rashly approach or retreat.

Yes, like facing a lion's overwhelming pressure.

Harcon laughed heartily.

"Hahaha. Now do you see why the knights were shocked, Sir Hoyeol? This basic stance is the ultimate goal of us Lion Heart knights."

He continued.

"And you replicated it just by watching!"

Now I got why he called it innate talent.

But it was a clear misunderstanding.

"Your vessel is beyond measure, Sir Hoyeol."

Vessel? It's a leaky bucket…!

But I couldn't admit that aloud.

"If you think so, then ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠so it is."

A plain reply.

But I knew what it meant.

Magic had been the same.

'Just escaped cramming, now this.'

Talent and effort were separate.

I'd pulled all-nighters daily.

Swordsmanship wouldn't differ.

So I felt no joy.

My twitching arms and legs from muscle pain.

This was just a taste.

'……So lonely.'

No one to recognize my struggles.

Then—

"……?"

A message appeared.

Reward for training…

'……Stat increase!'

I checked my status window immediately.

Correction: The only one who gets my injustice is you, after all.

Class quest!

*

Hoyeol had left.

But Harcon couldn't calm his excitement easily.

"……Haha."

Pure joy.

Not as captain of the Lion Heart Knights or emperor's sword and shield.

Joy as a single martial artist.

Like a miner's thrill at finding raw ore.

"Who could have imagined?"

A mage. One frequenting the Mage Tower, no less. To have martial talent that would shock the world!

Harcon was certain.

"……What Sir Hoyeol should wield is not a staff, but a sword!"

Of course, he knew nothing of magic.

But no matter Hoyeol's magical talent.

It couldn't match that martial prowess.

Continent-wide, it was top-tier.

So if choosing one.

Hoyeol must choose the martial path.

Harcon's conclusion.

"Unintentionally, I've taken on a grave responsibility."

He must not disappoint and kill Hoyeol's interest in martial arts.

That was why he said peaceful days were over.

"I should start training myself."

At least Hoyeol seemed interested.

'Especially in sword aura.'

A sudden thought.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"……No way he emits sword aura right away too?"

Harcon shook his head.

No, even if possible, he must stop it.

Sword aura required absolute physical backing.

'Without it, one is consumed by the aura.'

Harcon's eyes were sharp.

'Though he didn't show it.'

Hoyeol's arms had trembled faintly.

Natural.

Talent and stamina were separate.

Hoyeol, who had lived as a mage, lacked it.

Stance and swing alone draining him? Expected.

Harcon sighed.

"I apologize in advance, Sir Hoyeol."

But basics needed building.

Imagining stamina training for him already hurt.

Harcon couldn't imagine.

Why Hoyeol's arms shook?

A training volume even Lion Heart knights couldn't endure.

Digested in mere dawn hours.

So it was unfounded worry.

"Looks like I'll run alongside. For peace of mind."

Of course, that needless concern didn't last.

……

Hoyeol not falling behind at all.

His breathing perfectly steady.

No sign of fatigue.

Harcon couldn't believe it.

He finally shouted.

"Sir Hoyeol, isn't this too different from yesterday?!"

The same Hoyeol struggling with one longsword?

*

Stamina training? I welcomed it with open arms.

I could tackle the repeatable without extra time.

And daily sweat paid off.

Martial power aside, stamina matched Lion Heart knights.

Thanks to that.

—……Sir Hoyeol. It seems I greatly misunderstood you.

Harcon deemed further stamina training pointless.

I inwardly regretted, but no choice.

Just sweat at dawn as usual.

Mage Tower lab.

Before my desk.

I headed to the guest table's teacup.

Beside it, the magic tool [Portable Lamp].

Bubble bubble— Mana into circuits, boiling water generated instantly.

Fitting for Mage Tower: high level.

"Fascinating."

Not heating water, but creating boiled water.

Inefficient but advanced. Perfect for Mage Tower.

"Prioritize rocket delivery over such trifles."

I clicked my tongue in regret.

Brewed green tea bag from home.

A sip.

Brief leisurely tea time.

Then to the desk, checking parchment.

Indeed, new messages.

Whoever it was, quite impatient.

Sender name first time at top.

Me.

Senior black mage.

So the purpose was obvious, no need to read.

To prove ability.

I got the gist, check rest later.

'More importantly.'

The awaited message was below.

I checked it right away.