Fists Speak Louder Than Words
After washing his body clean and changing into fresh clothes,
"..."
Having prepared a special gift as well, Kyle stepped out of Rose Mansion. The vast fourth floor was impossibly expansive for something inside the tower, but as soon as he opened the mansion door—thinking of the elevator—it connected straight to the elevator platform.
Now that's handy.
He'd heard it described as a gift from the Dragon King, built with all sorts of magic, but the structure and mysteries of Sword Tower still didn't make much sense to him. Not that he needed to understand it. This place was just that kind of place.
Still, it was convenient. No need to trudge across the distant plains; it linked right up. It was all thanks to him being registered as a pureblood in Sword Tower yesterday.
Of course, that didn't mean he could connect to just any other mansion on the fourth floor at will. To visit a private family home like that, you'd have to knock and get permission first.
He had no business with any other relatives right now anyway. Aside from Erica, he hadn't even properly talked to them. So Kyle stuck to his original plan, taking the elevator down to the first floor. To thank his grandfather Julius, who'd sent over all those precious, helpful gifts.
And maybe play around like yesterday.
Thanks to the three spirit elixirs working on his body, his stamina was incomparable to yesterday. He could play even better now. With strength far beyond his age, he could swing a sword decently—aside from his small frame.
Too bad I can't hold a real blade yet.
His talent was plenty, but five years old was too young for a true sword. It was a shame, but it also meant tons of room left to grow. Kyle felt no rush.
Sword Tower's first-floor central hall. Right as he stepped out of the elevator, he saw—
"Lucia, you really lost to that little brat?"
"Be honest. You didn't even try, right?"
A pack of kids surrounding one smaller kid, hounding her mercilessly.
"No, I fought properly."
"Liar! You fought properly and lost to that brat? No way!"
"It's true. The family head told me to go all out without using mana."
"No mana? That's not 'all out'! Liar!"
"Lucia, you gave that guy a tour of the first floor yesterday, right? What'd you say?"
"That was..."
"You badmouthed me, didn't you? Yeah? You sucked up to him while trash-talking me?"
The one nitpicking with nonsense was a big kid with brown hair and green eyes.
Barkas's second son, Bruno Alastor. With him bullying Lucia was Kartan’s second son, Bekiuss Alastor. Both ten years old, same age.
"Lucia wouldn't do that...!"
Thankfully, a girl spoke up for Lucia. Dante's daughter, Vivian Alastor. She was seven—two years older than Kyle.
"What do you know?"
"Vivian, you're taking Lucia's side now?"
"My dad said demons are good at lying and super vicious. So Lucia's a liar too."
Bruno spat out the racist remark without hesitation. A liar, huh. As Kyle stepped out of the elevator, he recalled the demons from his past life. They were vicious, sure, but he didn't remember them lying much.
"Lucia's a nasty liar. She badmouthed us to that brat and threw the fight to look good."
"I didn't badmouth you, Bruno, and I didn't throw it."
"Lying again!"
"I'm not lying."
"Yeah, no lies here."
Kyle spoke up as he approached his cousins. Bruno and Bekiuss, too focused on bullying Lucia to notice the elevator door, jumped in surprise and turned to him.
"Lucia didn't badmouth you, and she didn't throw it."
"Y-you..."
"Hey."
Kyle raised the corner of his mouth in greeting. Kid logic had no rhyme or reason. Having grown up bickering with similar ages in his mercenary days, Kyle was used to this crap.
"Why're you giving Lucia shit?"
"Sh-shit?"
This wasn't your typical noble house, so swearing wasn't alien. But hearing it from a five-year-old cousin he'd just met yesterday left Bruno's mouth hanging open.
"You know who we are?"
Bekiuss squinted, asking from beside the huffing Bruno. Unlike Bruno's bearish bulk, Bekiuss was skinny. He twirled his golden hair, glaring at Kyle.
"Yeah. You're Bekiuss. That's Bruno."
"You know our age?"
"Ten."
"Then why banmal?"
Bekiuss's eyebrows shot up.
"'Cause I feel like it."
"Wh-what?"
"I feel like it."
Kyle didn't bother with logic. Reason for banmal? None. Kid arguments didn't need logic or reasons—just stubbornness and a louder voice.
"I'm five whole years older than you! And my dad's your mom's oppa!"
"I know."
"Then call me hyung!"
"Nah."
"Why!"
"'Cause I feel like it."
Bekiuss thumped his chest in frustration at the repeated answer. Bruno, who'd been gaping, started breathing heavily. While Bekiuss had the edge in the verbal spat, Bruno clenched his fists and stomped toward Kyle.
"B-Bruno oppa!"
Vivian startled and tried to grab him, but Bruno swung his arm, shoving her off. As she stumbled, Lucia rushed in to steady her.
"Bruno...!"
Lucia's voice trembled with emotion. Bekiuss snapped at her immediately.
"Lucia, you dare get mad at Bruno?"
Lucia's brow furrowed. Even if her talent let her stay in Sword Tower, she wasn't an Alastor by name. A demon hybrid, shunned as alien even centuries ago.
"Get mad."
Kyle's voice pierced Lucia's ears as she bit her lip and bowed her head. Startled, she looked up. With hulking Bruno stomping closer, Kyle just grinned ear to ear.
"You're stronger. So get mad. Right?"
"Wh-what're you even saying?"
"Just beat his ass."
Bekiuss gawked at Kyle. He figured the five-year-old was nuts. Get mad? Beat him? Lucia was an outsider without the Alastor name. Lowborn trash, abandoned on the coast, parents unknown.
"D-do you even get the blood in our veins? Trash like Lucia could never..."
"Don't call people mutts."
"Calling a mutt a mutt—what's wrong with that?!"
"That mutt's stronger than you. Isn't strength what matters here?"
Kyle's playful grin sharpened. Between Lucia and Bekiuss, her superiority was obvious—no fight needed. Her stance alone was better. Maybe Bekiuss had a trick up his sleeve, or that sloppy pose was fake—but
No chance. Two years' difference meant nothing to a demon hybrid.
Despite her despised blood, Lucia stayed in Sword Tower on talent alone. Kyle had sized her up with experience and prediction; beating her at that age without exceptional skill was tough.
"..."
Lucia never imagined being pushed like this. Get mad? Beat him? She couldn't go that far, but Kyle's words—that strength mattered most—planted a tiny seed in her heart.
"Hey."
Bruno stopped in front of Kyle, glaring down with bulging eyes. Like his bearish father Barkas, Bruno was huge and thick-boned for ten.
"What makes you act so shameless?"
Bruno growled low. What gave him confidence? Plenty of answers, but saying "Grandpa" would shut Bruno up easy.
Boring, though—not what Kyle wanted. Adults' pressure? He'd use Grandpa's favor as a shield. But these were kids, same as him.
Kids naturally feared "adults." Name-dropping one could stop a fight. But it wasn't a real fix. They'd clash more living together, so better button it right from the start.
"Me."
Adults were far; fists were close. Kyle grinned.
"Who the hell are you?"
"Yup."
"What makes you so great?"
"Kyle."
"I know your damn name! I mean, how great are you?!"
"Pretty great."
"Greater than me?"
"Yup. Way greater."
Bruno snapped at the beaming reply. He raised a meaty hand to shove Kyle's chest, but Kyle dodged first. Bruno stumbled from the momentum.
"You little shit!"
Bruno flew into a rage, swinging wildly, but missed again.
Kyle savored the elixirs' effects. He could've dodged Bruno's clumsy punches pre-elixir, but now? Effortless—almost boring.
Someone's watching, but no one's stopping it.
The hall monitors from Black Iron Knights had to be seeing this. No intervention. Kids' squabble? Or "might makes right" rule? Either way, good for Kyle.
"Hold. Still. Dammit!"
Bruno panted, yelling. His flailing fists never landed. Close, but always off—infuriating.
"If I hold still, I'll get hit."
Kyle smirked, dodging. Elixirs rocked. Body moved lightning-fast on instinct, no fatigue.
"Argh...!"
Furious, Bruno spread his arms wide, charging to grab. Kyle didn't dodge—he lunged in.
Thud!
Kyle's small fist nailed Bruno's solar plexus dead-on.
"Guhk!"
Bruno's choked scream burst out. Unbelievable power from a five-year-old's punch. Breath caught, legs buckled.
Steel Dragon marrow toughened bones. Blood Ghost Tree fruit elasticized muscles. He'd pulled the punch to avoid disaster, but maybe too much.
Tough bastard.
Of course—Bruno got elixirs too, if not Kyle-level. Stocky build, mana cultivation; naturally sturdy.
"Ugh...!"
Bruno clutched his gut, staggering. Barely stayed up. Pain mixed with crushing humiliation. Ten years old, nearly floored by a five-year-old.
"B-Bruno?!"
Bekiuss's eyes bulged. Vivian and Lucia gaped.
"Want more?"
Kyle asked Bruno. The taunt snapped his reason.
"I'll kill you...!"
Bruno looked up, eyes bloodshot with murder. Whoosh! Faint red aura flickered on his clenched fist.
Pathetic compared to Kyle's past sights, but aura was aura. Not for kids' tussles. Uninitiated in mana, Kyle's elixir-tough body would still take serious injury minimum.
"Bruno!"
Lucia screamed, but Kyle stayed calm. Dangerous or not, just don't get hit.
Aura means mana use. How much faster does that make Porky?
Kyle felt curiosity. How much did mana cultivation change the cub?
"Die!"
Bruno roared, charging. Lucia bolted to intercept.
Unfortunately, Kyle's curiosity went unsatisfied.
A dark shadow intervened, snatching Bruno's fist.
"That's enough, young master."
Low, steady voice. A different Black Iron Knight from the one at Rose Mansion glared down at Bruno.
"L-let go! That punk started...!"
Bruno thrashed, but the knight's grip didn't budge. The weak aura fizzled in his hand.
"Sibling sparring is encouraged, but intent to kill is forbidden. Especially aura—that crossed the line."
The knight's cold gaze froze Bruno. Rage fled; fear flooded in.
"Let him go."
A dignified voice echoed through the hall. All eyes turned.
The door to the corridor linking Sword Apex Hall stood open.
"F-Family head...!"
Bekiuss and Vivian bowed in shock; Lucia dropped to one knee. Bruno paled.
Julius scanned Bruno, then nonchalant Kyle.
"A ten-year-old using aura on his five-year-old cousin? Planning murder?"
"I-I..."
"'Die' rang loud. Answer, Bruno Alastor. Did you mean to kill your cousin?"
"N-no! I was just... so mad, I didn't mean to..."
"Mad enough for aura? Can't control emotions—shallow mentality. Too much power for your caliber."
Tears welled in Bruno's eyes.
"S-sorry. Forgive me..."
"Go."
"Y-yes...!"
Bruno backed away fleeing; Bekiuss hesitated, then followed.
The knight withdrew too. Left: Julius, Kyle, Vivian, Lucia.
"Grandpa!"
Kyle beamed innocently, trotting to Julius.
"I did great, right? Didn't get hit once—landed mine instead."
Julius chuckled. No apology for the commotion—just bragging. Absurd.
"Yeah, good job. Elixirs suit you."
Not just elixirs, Julius knew. Perfect control despite new power, reading all attacks, precise counter. Even yesterday's "play" showed it—grandson's talent, especially combat sense, beyond "genius."
"What brings you to the first floor?"
"To play with you again, Grandpa. And say thanks."
"Heh. More playtime, huh."
Julius smiled, offering his hand. Kyle grabbed it eagerly.
"You two not coming?"
Kyle glanced at Lucia and Vivian. Vivian shook her head frantically; Lucia composed herself, bowing.
"I'm fine."
"Play next time then."
With that, Kyle headed to Sword Apex Hall, hand in Julius's.
"Thanks for the gifts."
Walking the corridor, Kyle looked up.
"Like 'em?"
"Yeah. Tasted like crap, though."
"Good elixirs are bitter."
"My body hurt like hell too."
"Worth a little pain for the gains."
"Not 'little.' Thought I might die."
Julius paused.
"You took all three?"
"Huh? Yeah. All of 'em."
"Three at once...?"
Even adults staggered after one; meant for days apart. All at once? Julius was floored.
"Not rough?"
"Was. But it made me tougher, so I finished 'em."
"Heh."
Patient too. Julius shook his head, impressed.
"My gift for you, Grandpa."
Kyle pulled out his prepared "gift."
"A gift...?"
Julius eyed it, surprised.
It was a letter.
"Read it later."
Of course, handwritten by Kyle himself.
Filled with thanks and affection for Grandpa.
...
Not Sword Ghost Raikal—a five-year-old grandson's feelings, poured in.
Past life's past... this is now...
No dignity worries.