Father's Reluctant Approval
No matter how much of a Swordmaster I'd been, that was a story from the previous loop. Time had rewound, and my body had gone back with it. Right now, I was just a twelve-year-old boy. I couldn't even dream of drawing out sword aura, let alone circulate mana through my body properly.
And my father? He was a knight commander in his prime, entrusted with leading the order. Objectively speaking, there was zero chance I'd beat him.
So I hadn't come here to win with the sword.
"I have no idea what wind's blown into you to make you act like this."
"Urk!"
"But aren't you starting to regret it? If you give up now, I'll chalk it up to youthful folly and forget it ever happened."
Every clash of our swords sent tremors through my forearms. I'd blocked his kick well enough, but my body still tumbled across the ground. I'd barely found an opening to thrust my blade's tip in, only for his superior strength to shove me back out.
Father showed no mercy in his strikes. He wasn't using mana, but his honed swordsman's physique was an insurmountable mountain.
As expected, he had no intention of testing my swordsmanship. As a parent, he just wanted to check how resolute I really was.
All I had to do was refuse to bend.
I grinned through the pain of a blow to my side.
"I could do this all day."
"...You've got spirit, I'll give you that."
Classic line from a hero who'd dominated an era. Father paused for a moment, his expression flickering with surprise, as if to say, 'This kid knows how to say that?'
Actually, it wasn't the first time his hand had hesitated. When I'd accurately positioned my sword to block. When I'd started turning his power against him after gauging the gap. When I'd restricted his space with my front foot and devoured his intent with my blade.
Father had unconsciously smiled, then hurriedly schooled his features. He wasn't skilled at deception, so he couldn't hide it completely.
And just like that, an hour passed. The duel I'd braced for hours ended far quicker than expected.
"Ian."
"Yes, Father."
"You've truly improved a great deal. As your father, it's moving."
"As I said, I had a bit of an epiphany."
"Cut the nonsense. In all my life, I've never heard of an epiphany that demands becoming a holy knight."
Looked like the invincible logic wasn't working anymore. Father seemed about to lay out his true feelings, so I decided to drop the pretense too.
"Become a knight. I'll pass everything I have to you."
"..."
"The family, my current position—no, with your talent, you'll surely claim honors even greater than mine."
It was probably true. We hadn't exchanged such promises before, but in the previous loop, Father had genuinely wanted to give me everything.
At first, I'd thought he was just stubborn and narrow-minded. And that wasn't entirely wrong. My father was indeed a rigid knight commander and a strict patriarch.
"Father. I must become a holy knight."
"Why?"
"I can't say. But it's a decision I've thought long and hard about. I won't take it back, and I won't regret it."
But he never mistook the family head's role for ownership over his children's lives. Father strictly separated his duties as patriarch from his role as parent.
That's why, whenever I dug in my heels with that regressor's stubbornness, he'd pretend to scold me but ultimately yield.
Just like now.
"...The family won't support you in any way. Carve your own path. I'll allow as much training as you want."
Father's permission was granted. He said he wouldn't help at all, but reality would be different. The Life Church's holy knight commander was the type to break before bending.
Half-hearted pushes would only hinder me. In other words, this was as good as promising every possible support.
I couldn't help voicing my doubt.
"Is that really all?"
"Not to your liking? I can retract my words if you prefer."
"I just didn't expect you'd give in so easily."
This was the first loop where Father backed down without more resistance. Normally, I'd have needed to push harder—endure more pain, hold out longer, and stubbornly refuse to yield.
Only then would he concede, realizing I'd truly steeled my resolve.
To my natural question, Father snorted derisively, as if it were rude to even ask.
"Do you think I'm a father who can't read his own son's eyes?"
"Ah..."
"I'd break stubbornness. But conviction? I won't force it. Go on, then—give it your all."
In the last loop, I'd been stubborn for my own amusement. This time, I held a true conviction to protect Liscia.
Father had seen the difference from the start.
Later, I learned one fact about that day. Father never touched alcohol ordinarily, but that night, he drank himself into a stupor alone.
The downside—and upside—of a patriarchal system is that all authority rests with the father. I'd wrung permission from him at last.
From this moment, no one in the family could stop my holy knight ambitions.
That said, my daily life didn't change drastically. Knight or holy knight, both were ultimately about swinging a sword.
The only difference was that I threw myself into my usual routine even harder.
First, I need to build this body somehow. Once it catches up, raising my realm will be quick.
In this world, a swordsman's three pillars were heart, technique, and body. In terms of mental image: one's personal philosophy, honed swordsmanship, and robust physique.
Heart and technique didn't regress no matter how many loops I went through. The problem was body.
As proven in the duel with Father, my growth was bottlenecked entirely by my physical limits.
But building the body required the straightforward path. Elixirs had their limits, so steady time and effort were inevitable.
Thus, my routine solidified. Wake up: train. Eat: train. Before bed: train.
These days, I lived like a man born solely for training.
The one exception to this pattern? Just one person.
The sword instructor who'd turned into a praise machine?
"Amazing, young master! I've never seen such talent in my sword career!"
"Enough. Wooden sword—heavier one. Add another sandbag."
"Right away!"
No. In my head, he was less teacher now and more personal trainer. I had no intention of ditching my former short-term mentor, but there was nothing left for me to learn from him right now.
Fortunately, he never interfered with my training.
"Ian. I've heard you're working hard lately. A holy knight, really...?"
My brother, who'd interpreted my holy knight aspiration as renouncing the family headship—and an endorsement of himself?
"Step aside, Brother. You stand there, you might get wrecked."
"Hey, is that how you talk to your brother...?"
"If it bothers you, grab a wooden sword. I'm ready anytime."
"No, sorry for interrupting your precious training. Thirsty? Shall I fetch some cold water?"
"What, really."
Of course not. Times when Brother had ever helped my life could be counted on one hand.
Consider what Father had said just recently. The strict patriarch had offered to hand over the family without much deliberation.
If Brother heard that, he'd be shocked—but it spoke volumes about Father's assessment of us.
To me, Brother was just a convenient rack to offload the annoying family head duties onto.
Back when I was little, this guy...
Sigh. Never mind.
"Ian! I'm here! Let's go on a picnic! On the way, I saw tons of flowers blooming on the mountain!"
Thus, my one true exception was Liscia.
I devoted all my time to training, but whenever Liscia came, I always made room.
After all, I'd decided on holy knight for her sake. Neglecting her under the guise of training would be putting the cart before the horse.
Saintess Liscia had said our time together made her so happy. She'd made me her final destination, accepting those brief meetings as her happy ending.
Meanwhile, infinite regression had perfected my loops. Meaning hers had been incomplete before, so it wouldn't be strange if she'd lived countless more loops I didn't know about.
Hundreds of years. Maybe even thousands. She'd clung to those childhood memories as her life's anchor.
I couldn't possibly ruin the time that had made her that happy.
I had a duty to keep Liscia smiling.
"A picnic, huh? Sounds good. Should we pack some food?"
"Yeah! Yuna and I brought sweets, but got more tasty stuff?"
"I can make some. It'll be quick."
"You made?!"
"Heh, look forward to it. I'll show you what real flavor is."
In other words, it wasn't like a few gentle puffs of breath had swayed me.
No, the kid's just sweet and adorable!
Adorable, I say!