Chapter 18
Chapter 18
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 18
Chapter Title: Friend-6
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"Next. Isn't the next one coming?"
It was clearly polite speech. The kind that showed respect to the other person with deferential language.
Yet the atmosphere was like thin ice that could shatter at any moment.
The people in the spectator seats held their breath, and even the apprentice knights who had sensed victory fell silent, their heartbeats stopping.
The boy scanned his next opponent with shadowed eyes. That gaze evoked the sensation of a single snake torn into dozens of pieces, crawling all over one's body.
The truth was merely that he was tired, but to the apprentice knights, it was threat enough.
"I...! I'll do it!!"
One apprentice knight wielding a spear stepped forward. He was taller than the previous sword-wielding knight and had a decent voice to match.
"Come on up."
With those words, Leo tossed his sword aside.
"...What are...?"
Ignoring him, he walked toward the armory. There, he pulled out a spear identical to the one the apprentice knight held and gripped it.
"...Let's begin."
"...What the hell is he doing...? Pick up your sword!"
Not just the apprentice knight before him—the spectators around, and even Ariasfil, all showed their confusion openly, unable to comprehend.
'...Leonardo clearly used a sword...?'
The Leo she had seen only wielded longsword-based external swordsmanship or dual-wielding techniques. Even that alone was a skill rare for his age—unheard of, even.
But the others didn't know.
"Is there a rule saying I can't use a spear?"
About the second-rate's killer instinct.
About the path chosen by a mediocre talent.
"...Are you mocking me?! Fight with your specialty, the sword!!"
"Why do you assume my specialty is swordsmanship?"
The spectators fell silent at those words.
Most were speechless from sheer absurdity, but a few broke out in cold sweat and clamped their mouths shut.
Because the implication wasn't simply "I can't use a sword."
"Then is spearmanship your specialty?!"
"Do I have to explain it in words? It's ridiculous for knights to yap like street performers, so come at me. Quickly."
The provocation worked.
Veins bulged on the knight's handsome face, proving it over and over.
"Insolent...!!"
The apprentice knight charged onto the training ground. The sharp spear tip racing toward him would surely pierce flesh the moment it touched.
Kaang!
"Wha...!?"
That is, if it touched.
Leo's spear tip rejected such clumsy sharpness. The swift spear thrust flew straight at Leo, but never reached his body.
"Your stance is decent, and so is your power."
That was Leo's assessment after parrying a few strikes.
"What...?! What are you doing in the middle of a duel...!"
Far from faltering in confusion, Leo continued his critique.
"But your rotations are garbage, and you don't even know how to handle recoil or spring."
As if disgusted by such shoddy spearmanship, he deflected each thrust one by one while speaking.
"Is this what you call spearmanship?"
Leo poured that judgment into his spear in an instant.
Kang! Kaang!! Kaaang!!
"Keurk?!"
The follow-up triple strike—three entirely different sounds rang out from the same spear, shockwaves reverberating.
The apprentice knight's spear clattered to the ground, and he collapsed onto the floor. Not from the spear's impact, but because his legs gave out from the mental shock.
"Next."
Aiming his spear tip at the fallen loser, the victor called out leisurely.
"Send the next one up."
No trace of politeness remained.
"...What... the hell..."
No cheers or shouts erupted from the dueling ground.
It wasn't because the fight was lackluster.
Sometimes, things that surpassed one's common sense couldn't be put into words.
Even if it was happening right before their eyes.
"...You little shit...!"
The knight with a one-handed sword and shield roared as he charged. To the spectators, though, it just looked like a scream denying reality.
"Your sword-and-shield linkage is a mess. If you're gonna do that, ditch the shield."
Likewise armed with a one-handed sword and shield, Leo counterattacked. He parried the charging knight's sword, then slammed his shield down onto the blade.
"Blocking like that will snap your wrist."
With that advice, the apprentice knight crumpled to the ground.
"Alright, next."
This was the sixth "next" he had called.
So far, he had used four types of weapons: longsword, spear, battle axe, and now the one-handed sword and shield. Mastering each diverse weapon, Leo thoroughly subdued his foes.
And as if comparing their skills directly, he had fought each opponent equipped with the exact same weapons as them.
"...This can't be real!!"
The first longsword knight, who had lost, pointed at Leo and yelled.
"What's the problem?"
Not a drop of sweat on him, Leo regarded him with increasingly dry eyes.
"You...! You're doing this on purpose, aren't you!?"
"Doing what, exactly?"
Without a subject, pinpointing the specific action would have been incredibly difficult. Even if they could, Leo wouldn't answer politely to such an attitude.
"To humiliate us...! Doing this ridiculous nonsense!!"
"This is the third time I'm asking. Explain properly how I've humiliated you."
His volume was far lower—several times softer. But his pressure overwhelmed that mere bluster of a voice.
"...Why use the same weapons as us!? To...!"
"Because I felt like it."
A simple reason. A fundamental one. And that's why they couldn't accept it.
"You're joking?! Humiliating people for that shitty reason!?"
"Joking?"
Leo gripped his sword.
And thrust it vertically into the ground.
"Does this look like a joke to you?"
Leo set his shield down on the floor.
"...You people are seriously misunderstanding something."
His eyes gleamed red beneath the shadows.
"You started this fight, and you acknowledged the stakes escalating."
Gradually, those red eyes approached the apprentice knights.
"And I had to face seven in a row? Using the exact same weapons as each."
They were speechless.
His words and actions left the group of apprentice knights in chaos.
Was it because they were out-argued by a mere 13-year-old boy? Or the overwhelming presence dwelling in that young body that hadn't even lived 20 years?
Either way, it was humiliating.
As knights, but first and foremost, as human beings.
"So."
Leo was already face-to-face with the apprentice knight.
"Is this humiliating you? Or did I handicap myself and give you a chance?"
"...Y-You... filthy commoner...!"
Leo knew from his short life's experiences.
Humans, when at a disadvantage, nitpick things they can't change by birth.
No need to look far—the noble apprentice knight right in front of him was a perfect example.
"Yes, I'm a commoner."
Leo turned his gaze from the man, surveying the surroundings. Everyone around was of noble blood.
"And I'll remain one. Unless I swap parents and lineage, I'll be a commoner forever."
And he had no intention of changing that.
"Curse my low birth, condemn it all you want. It's all true, and I don't care—so go ahead."
And no intention of denying it.
"But remember this."
What that boy—that youth—solely desired.
"You couldn't even beat a wretch like me."
He was merely imprinting it.
Until that lowly birth meant nothing.
Leo turned to the crowd and shouted loudly.
"...I know there are people here disgusted by my origins, my status, how I got here, and my very existence."
No one could say a word. It wasn't just because it was true. They simply couldn't find words for a child shouting such things himself.
"If there's a valid reason to drive me out, bring it without hesitation. I'll accept it anytime."
That young boy knew his place better than anyone—knew his position.
"But until there's a reason like that, I'll live for my goal."
And at the same time, he aimed higher than anyone.
"If anything blocks my goal, I'll overcome it, eliminate it, anytime."
This wasn't permission or a notice.
"This is what I declare."
It was a declaration.
The long yet short declaration—fit to call a speech—ended.
"Then I'll be going."
With that, Leo walked off the training ground.
Servants and knights—more experienced and higher-ranked than him—parted ways for Leo's steps.
Thud.
In that instant, Leo tripped and fell.
"Leonardo!!"
Ariasfil rushed over and caught the collapsing boy.
"Call a doctor... no, a healing priest!! Hurry!!"
Chris urgently summoned people. The servants dashed off to obey just as frantically.
"Wake up...! Leonardo...!"
Ariasfil shook the fallen Leonardo, calling his name repeatedly. Considerable progress, in that she didn't slap him.
"...He was pretending to be fine, but he overdid it after all. Dodging that fast requires straining your mana..."
Everyone watched Leo with grave expressions.
But
That 'voice' worked better than a wake-up bell.
With eyes closed, Leo replayed the recent mishap. The speech had gone smoothly without stumbling over words, but the problem was walking away.
His mana had been depleted long ago. Not enough to faint, but enough that he couldn't distinguish rocks underfoot or grooves in the stone.
Fall while you're down, and take a break.
Leo took the chance to catch up on his overdue sleep.
A warm, cozy sensation—not just the feel of soft blankets, but the plush support of a luxury bed cradling his body. Pure bliss.
A curse? Hallucination—ignore it, savor this feeling...
Ignore the senile geezer, stay in bed...
Cracking his eyes open, Leo replied. At this point, expressing irritation via aura felt more natural.
The Sage nodded toward the foot of the bed.
"Ariasfil?"
Ariasfil was asleep at the foot of the bed. Just like after slaying the balrog together, she had dozed off beside him.
It made a twisted kind of sense, but he couldn't hold back the contempt in his eyes.
Lowering his gaze revealed Ariasfil below.
"...Leo...nardo..."
Ariasfil murmured his name bit by bit, clutching the blanket draped over him.
'...Different from my past life.'
Was it because he had changed? The current Ariasfil felt different from the one he remembered.
A bit softer, gentler perhaps—Ariasfil seemed a little cute.
Not just personality-wise; her looks were plenty charming for a girl.
Her soft-looking cheeks, skin and hair that seemed divinely smooth to the touch...
"...Tch. Time to get up around now."
Just fatigue breeding stray thoughts.
Leo carefully lifted the blanket and rose from bed. Then he gently scooped Ariasfil up in his arms.
It's cold out—better lay her in bed. Leo cradled her tenderly in his arms and against his chest, preparing to set her down.
"Pardon the intrusion, Leonardo."
In that moment, the door opened. No knock, so he couldn't react.
"...I heard you collapsed, but you seem fi..."
It was Family Head Gladio Reinhardt.
Ariasfil's father.
"...Ah."
Dim room. Large, warm bed. Rumpled sheets.
And finally, himself holding the sleeping Ariasfil in both arms.
A father's gaze upon him in that scene.
"..."
Family Head, I can explain everything. Just give me 30 seconds. I don't wanna die yet.