The One Who Endures
Dawn broke.
Raon gathered the belongings he had packed the night before and left the Annex. Sylvia and the maids stood in a line before the garden, waiting for him.
"I'll be back."
He waved to the faces watching him with worried eyes. Moisture gathered at the corners of Sylvia's.
Good thing I'm going alone.
Only trainees were allowed inside the training ground, and that was a relief. If Sylvia had come with him, they never would have arrived today.
"Lady Sylvia. Are you really going to send the young master off with a face like that?"
"Mm..."
At Helen's light scolding, the rigidity in Sylvia's expression softened, just a little.
"Raon."
She fidgeted with her clasped hands as she stepped in front of him. The worry was still there, but she could no longer bring herself to say the word give up.
Because I've seen what kind of child he is.
For the past month, Raon had endured the cold spreading through his mana circuits without skipping a single day of training. He had run and run, day after day, breathing out pained white breaths. She could not send a child who had persevered like that away with a gloomy face.
"Raon. Do well out there."
Sylvia reined in the emotions churning behind her worry and smiled.
"Yeah."
Raon nodded firmly and turned his back. He walked toward the 5th Training Ground without looking around.
"He'll be all right, won't he?"
"He's gotten so much better. If things go well, he might even pass the training and come back."
"I don't even hope for that. I just want him not to get hurt."
"That would be best, yes."
Sylvia and Helen watched Raon's receding back until it disappeared. Passing the training did not matter. They only prayed he would come home safe.
The 5th Training Ground was boxed in by walls so high they could not be seen from the outside, a long rectangle that made the whole place look like an elongated crate. To the right of the entrance lay an outdoor field of finely packed earth. To the left stood a roofed indoor hall.
Raon took in the grounds, then scanned the children gathered at the center.
As many as I'd heard.
The hour had not even arrived, and already more than a hundred children were warming up across the field. It was not only Zieghart's direct and collateral lines. Recommended students brought in from vassal houses and from outside filled the numbers too. He had been told a crowd like this gathered every year.
They said there are even more this time.
Helen had mentioned that this year there were so many applicants they were opening the 6th Training Ground as well.
Crunch.
He turned toward the sound of something crumbling. A round-faced boy with green hair was pulling snacks from a pouch at his belly and eating them.
"Want some?"
When Raon stared, the boy fished out another snack and held it out.
"No. I'm fine."
"Okay."
He nodded and stuck his hand back in the pouch. This time a square bun popped out.
Raon was still finding it curious, about to start warming up, when a cold voice drifted from behind him.
"That's him, right? Look at those scrawny arms and legs. One tap and they'd snap. Can he even train?"
"If he's a patient, he should just fake it and run away. I don't get why he's putting himself forward and making trouble."
"I shut my eyes when I saw him talking back to the Patriarch to his face. He doesn't know his place. Thinks he's a direct descendant."
The collateral children made sure everyone could hear them. The rumor had already spread — plenty of kids were glaring at Raon.
"And what's with that bracelet?"
"A flower-patterned bracelet?"
"Doesn't even act his age."
They snickered at Wrath hanging from Raon's wrist. Apparently the bracelet was visible to other people too.
"Don't tell me they're talking about This King."
Wrath, who had been quiet as if asleep, trembled all over.
'That's why I told you to change the bracelet's shape.'
"Wretches who do not even know what nobility is. What are you doing? Smash their skulls this instant."
His voice sizzled like water coming to a boil.
'Why would I?'
"They did not merely lay a hand on This King — they picked a fight with you as well. You intend to simply endure that?"
'You don't even know what's going on.'
"That does not matter! Merely looking This King in the eye should be enough to have their eyeballs ripped out—"
'I'm not crazy like you.'
He was genuinely grateful he had never handed his body over to this lunatic.
"Hmph."
Raon turned his head and looked at the collateral kids who had just been flapping their mouths. They flinched for a moment, then stuck their chins out as if to say, so what are you going to do about it?
In my past life, I would have ignored it.
His past self would have pretended not to hear and walked away. An assassin had no need to draw eyes. But in this life he had decided to live as Raon Zieghart, not an assassin. There was no reason to let it pass.
"What did you just say?"
He walked toward the ones who had been running their mouths, his gaze ice-cold. They had not expected him to come over in person. Confusion flickered across their faces.
"Huh?"
"W-what are you talking about..."
"Don't buzz like mosquitoes. Say it properly."
"Ugh."
"Th-that's..."
The collateral children did not know what to do. They glanced at each other.
As I thought.
These kids had simply copied what their parents did. They had no idea how to handle a situation like this.
"Didn't anyone teach you not to say behind someone's back what you can't say to their face?"
"Sh-shut up!"
"A fallen wretch holed up in the Annex, and you dare!"
"You're not a direct descendant — you're collateral!"
"You're collateral too. 'Dare' is a word you use when the other person stands below you. You don't have the right to spit that word at me."
Raon's voice neither rose nor fell. It was the simple tone of someone stating a fact.
"Krgh!"
The three collateral brats spread their legs and clenched their fists as if they were about to charge.
Crack.
Raon loosened his fingers. Warming up and drawing a little attention before training started was not a bad idea.
"You little—"
"Stop!"
Just as the brats were about to rush him, a voice like a blade of frost cut in from the right. A blue-haired boy who looked to be in his early teens.
"Who does that one think he is, interfering? Crush his head."
'Burren, was it?'
A direct descendant. The one who had shown the greatest talent at the aptitude examination.
"Training is about to start. What do you think you're doing? Are you trying to smear the Zieghart name in front of outsiders?"
Contrary to what Raon expected, Burren did not defend the three brats. He rebuked everyone.
"L-Lord Burren!"
"We're sorry!"
The collaterals who had been about to charge bowed their heads like mice before a cat at a single word from him.
"You still don't know your place."
Having accepted their apology, Burren walked toward Raon.
"Trash like you is nothing but dust I could sweep away whenever I please. If you don't want to get thrown out of the Annex as well, live as quietly as a dead mouse."
He made no attempt to hide the contempt twisting his face.
That rat bastard!
The idiot standing in front of him had monopolized the Patriarch's attention a month ago — and not through his own ability. He had simply used the situation. What Burren hated most were people without ability. What he hated second most were people who did not know their place and acted arrogant. Raon Zieghart was both. Just the fact that a dropout who could not even train properly had drawn the Patriarch's interest was enough to set his teeth on edge.
"If you don't intend to participate in the training, get out right now. No — just leave. There's no chance you'll pass anyway."
At Burren's condemnation, the collateral children snickered. They were turning away with satisfied faces when Raon took a step forward.
"Even your bullshit doesn't have any flavor."
He cocked his chin to the side and met Burren's eyes with a crooked look.
"You think you're something?"
"What?"
"You're a direct descendant and nothing more. You don't hold any actual rank. Kick me out of the Annex? You think someone who isn't even a trainee yet can do that? Ah — I suppose if you run and tattle to your father, you might have a chance."
"A collateral dares—"
Green wind coiled around Burren's fist. He was closing in with murderous eyes when the training ground doors burst open as if they would shatter.
BANG!
A red-haired man stepped through the trembling doors. Pointed ears. An otherworldly face. A mysterious air rode along with a presence as light as a breeze.
"Already fighting? You're not just young — you're still kids. That's why you're so bold."
He grinned as he walked to the center of the grounds.
He was here?
Raon narrowed his eyes. A man too famous not to recognize. The elf swordsman who had once been called Zieghart's Light Sword — Rimer.
I heard he retired...
The news had been that he withdrew after injuring his aura core. Raon had not expected to meet him here.
"Heh heh!"
Rimer glanced at Raon and Burren once each, then climbed onto a platform that overlooked the entire training ground.
"Khmm..."
Burren bit his lip and turned away. The look on his face said he would let it go this time — but to be careful from now on.
"Good to meet you."
Rimer stood at the center of the platform and grinned.
"I'm Rimer, the head instructor who will oversee your training."
His voice was light. Not frivolous so much as breezy, like the wind. He kept that easy smile as he went on.
"One hundred sixty participants. Eight instructors. That's a bit many to teach all of you, don't you think? So I think we should thin the numbers. Down to exactly one-fourth."
A concentrated mischievousness settled into the smile that had been so relaxed a moment before.
"Th-thin the numbers?"
"To one-fourth?"
"What do you mean..."
The children's faces went deathly pale. Filtering applicants before basic training had even begun was unheard of.
"Just what it sounds like. I want to separate the wheat from the chaff. I'd like to raise proper swordsmen, even if it's only a few."
Rimer waggled his fingers as he looked over the children, as if picking merchandise off a stall.
"Eek — I-I only came because they told me to..."
The green-haired boy who had offered the snacks dropped the bun in his hand.
"I'm a Zieghart collateral! Filtering us before we even become trainees is ridiculous!"
"That's right! All of us came because our families told us to participate!"
"Ahh. I'm too uneducated to know about directs and collaterals and all that."
Rimer dug in his ear with his pinky and frowned.
He felt less like a head instructor and more like a back-alley thug — but his looks made it come off as dashing.
Filtering them, huh...
Raon scratched his chin. He had heard that Rimer possessed an outstanding talent for sensing a person's temperament and potential. It seemed he intended to use that ability to pick the children.
"Who does that insolent bastard think he is."
'What?'
"How dare he look down upon This King. I dislike him. Rip that elf's ears off."
'Is there anyone in the world who would meet your standards?'
True to his name, Wrath was furious at everything. There did not seem to be a single thing he liked.
"When This King was in the Demon Realm, not a single soul could meet my gaze. A true monarch worshipped by demonkind— Y-you brat!"
'Shut it.'
Wrath's tongue was getting long, so Raon flicked the bracelet.
"Then let's start the test right away."
Rimer blew the earwax off his pinky.
"What do you think is the most important thing when learning martial arts?"
"Talent!"
"A strong, flexible body!"
"A solid aura core!"
"Swordsmanship and aura cultivation methods are the most important!"
The children, apparently convinced the test had already begun, threw their hands up and shouted whatever they believed mattered most.
"Talent, physique, aura core, swordsmanship — all correct. But those are the walls and the roof. Beneath them is a foundation that has to be packed down firm. Stamina and willpower."
"Ah..."
"Mm..."
They seemed to accept it. Hands came down. Heads nodded.
"Some of you will have learned martial arts already, some of you won't, so we'll take the test in the simplest and most reliable way."
The finger that had been pointing at the children slid over to indicate the outdoor field.
"Run the training ground until I tell you to stop. Full power!"
The instant the words left his mouth, two people moved. Burren, the direct descendant who had taken the aptitude exam with Raon, and Runaan of the vassal house Sullion.
"Urgh!"
"L-let's go!"
"Run!"
The rest of the children surged after them, pounding around the field.
"Do not move. Nothing in existence has the right to command This King—"
Raon ignored him and filled his lungs with fresh air. He kicked off the ground and followed the children running ahead.
They're definitely different.
Runaan and Burren were already far out in front. They looked as if they were running lightly, and yet they produced a speed no one else could match. It was not because the quality of their aura was exceptional, or because they possessed special attributes. It was because they had trained their bodies and minds from a young age.
"Ahem. If you are already running, go to the very front. Why are you at the very back?"
'I don't know what you're trying to do.'
"This King simply does not wish to lose."
'This isn't a competition.'
Raon looked up at Rimer, who was perched on the platform whistling. That man saw other people's potential and temperament. He would not stop at what was visible on the surface.
"Hoo..."
Raon exhaled the breath that had built up in his chest, and his eyes gleamed.
This is a test where the one who endures wins.
And that was the one thing he was more confident in than anyone else on the continent.
"Young Master Burren and Young Lady Runaan are in a league of their own, no question."
"It isn't just speed. There's stability too. This pace isn't even their full power — they could keep running like that for hours. That level at twelve years old... their futures are terrifying. Terrifying."
Two instructors standing below the platform chatted as they watched the children run.
"The collateral level is high this year too. Looks like they were properly educated before being sent."
"Same with the recommended students. They picked well — there are a lot of outstanding kids."
They evaluated not only Burren and Runaan but the children running behind them, one by one.
"Mm..."
Then their eyes found Raon in the rear group, and both instructors frowned.
"As expected. He can't keep up."
"He's a patient. Even running that much is impressive."
"Mm. He already looks exhausted. He'll drop out soon."
They turned their gazes to other children with indifferent faces, as if this were exactly what they had expected.
Behind them, Rimer — who had been humming a tune — never took his eyes off Raon.
Interesting.
His green eyes shone with a brilliant light.
I've never seen one like him.
He had received a more lavish blessing of nature than other races, and with it an outstanding ability to grasp another person's condition and potential. He had believed the only humans his talent could not read were the strongest on the continent.
But...
Today, that belief changed for the first time.
Even Runaan and Burren running at the very front, even the collaterals and recommended students gritting their teeth behind them — none of them escaped his eyes. He could see how they would grow. He could see how they would become strong.
All except one. Except Raon Zieghart.
Why can't I see it?
The boy's future, his potential — it was as if storm clouds had gathered over them, and nothing came through. Because he had no talent? That was not it. It meant he had slipped beyond perception, the way it felt when looking at someone stronger than oneself.
"Interesting."
Rimer smiled faintly. In a tedious age, a truly intriguing human had appeared for the first time in a very long while.
"Look at that."
"He talked so big, and now he's last?"
"Even 'last' is generous. He'll drop out any second."
The collateral children curled their lips as they watched Raon running in the lower group.
"A brat raised all soft in the Annex was never going to run properly."
"Look at that flustered face."
"He won't last ten minutes."
The other children around those three burst into snickers as well.
But the seriousness on Raon's face had nothing to do with exhaustion.
This is training, and all we're doing is running?
In his past life, when they trained stamina, they released starving beasts behind them. Just run until your stamina gave out? Compared to those days, this was a walk in the park.
Isn't this too easy?