Follow Me, Pig
For a whole week, Bruno hadn't stayed in the knight candidate dorms of Gladiheim's lower district. Instead, he'd been holed up in the Sword Tower's residential quarters.
It was something that shouldn't have been possible under normal circumstances, but Barkas had the pull to make the impossible happen.
When the esteemed pureblood Alastor announced he would personally train his worthless son, the instructors who taught the candidates had no choice but to nod along.
And so Bruno returned to the Sword Tower and received "guidance" from Barkas. Your basics are lacking. You lack grit. Your skills are pathetic. What the hell have you been doing all this time?
The reason Bruno was now panting as he ran laps through the fourth-floor residential area was his father's command. He'd already been sprinting across the vast open space for three hours straight.
And it wasn't just running. The bracelets on his wrists disrupted his mana flow. He wore a heavy vest, and his legs were weighed down by even heavier sandbags. In that state, he had to focus on his mana until it was completely depleted.
"Hah... hah... guh...!"
His breath came right up to his throat. His heart pounded like mad, his lungs burned like they were tearing apart. His legs felt like lead weights were dragging them down—or rather, they literally were, but they were far too heavy anyway.
Still, he couldn't stop. Stopping would bring his father's wrath.
More terrifying than the wrath was his father's cold gaze. The look that saw him as worthless trash. The look of disappointment in his son.
Fuck... fuck...!
Bruno ran on, foam flecking his lips.
The memory of his crushing defeat at Kyle's hands a week ago clung to his mind like a nightmare. He had to pay him back just to shake off this miserable feeling... but Bruno had zero confidence he could actually do it.
"You're working hard."
He tried to shake off the dark thoughts by focusing on his churning legs, but a voice cut in out of nowhere. An infuriating voice, one as frightening as his father's gaze. Bruno's legs tangled, and he pitched forward.
"Whoa there."
His tumbling body halted awkwardly mid-fall.
"What the hell is this...?"
Kyle grimaced in disgust as he released Bruno's sweat-soaked wrist. Bruno barely regained his balance and stood, glaring at Kyle while heaving for breath.
"You... you...!"
He tried to glare, but his eyes lacked the fire. In the end, Bruno could only gawk with brows twisted in a weird, almost pitiful expression.
"Why... hah... hah...?"
He wanted to demand why Kyle was even talking to him, but his ragged breathing wouldn't settle. Kyle crunched into another piece of thunder fruit, scanning Bruno up and down.
"Hey, pig. Trying to lose some weight?"
Bruno's face crumpled at the mocking jab. He hated being called "pig," of course. Sure, he was huge, but he wasn't a pig. His body was packed with muscle, not fat.
"This...!"
He wanted to bellow, but he couldn't. The terror from a week ago flashed in Kyle's grinning eyes. Nothing went his way against this guy.
"Shut... up, if you're here to laugh, get lost...!"
In the end, Bruno could only snap in a cowed voice.
"Laugh? I was just gonna cheer on my friend for busting his ass."
"If you really wanna cheer me on... don't talk to me. Just keep walking."
His breathing finally steadied a bit. Bruno wiped the sweat pouring down his face and spat it out.
"You think swinging wildly like an idiot makes your sword better?"
"What do you know...?! Acting all high and mighty 'cause you're a genius? Quit scratching at me and fuck off...!"
"I am a genius. And yeah, I am acting high and mighty. But I'm not making shit up just to mess with you."
Thud. Kyle's foot nudged the sandbag strapped to Bruno's leg.
"A solid base makes your sword solid too. More muscle means a stronger sword, naturally. Your body's already plenty big—no need to bulk up more."
"..."
"But what's with the bracelets?"
"These... interfere with the circuits, disrupting mana flow."
"Ah, to improve mana control?"
Kyle's eyes sparkled. It was intriguing and fun to learn there were training methods like this. Modern swordsmanship required mana mastery as a core skill, so this made sense.
"Not a fundamental fix, though."
"This is my father's training method...! What do you know?!"
"You think all swords are the same? Swords are personal, like people. Just 'cause you're Barkas Uncle's son doesn't mean you have to train exactly like him."
"You saying our father is wrong...?"
"Not wrong, exactly. Just not customized for you."
Barkas was undoubtedly a skilled swordsman, but that didn't guarantee he was a great teacher. And honestly, he wasn't obsessed with the sword enough to tailor training perfectly for Bruno.
Parents always projected themselves onto their kids, hoping to carry on the lineage. But Kyle wasn't Bruno's dad. No need to dive into Barkas's warped paternal instincts.
"Follow me."
"Huh...?"
"Follow me, pig. You deaf?"
"Wh-what the hell? I'm in the middle of father's training...!"
"Barkas Uncle promised me last time. Said it was fine to hang out with you. Even call you over sometimes."
"..."
"You think Uncle would say no if I wanna hang with my friend? After making that promise?"
"Hah... but...!"
"What's a mountain of a guy like you so scared of? That's why you're screwed up. Come on, you think Uncle's gonna kill you just for following me? He'll glare, grumble a bit, and that's it."
Bruno was clinging on because he dreaded that glare and grumbling, but Kyle wouldn't back down.
"If you don't follow me now, you'll regret it forever."
"Re... regret?"
Bruno looked at Kyle with wavering eyes.
"Yeah. You wanna get good with the sword, right?"
Crunch. Kyle bit into another thunder fruit.
"I am good with the sword."
At that, Bruno hesitated, then asked,
"Where... we going?"
"Our house training room."
Kyle spun on his heel toward the Rose Mansion.
"Made it a few days ago. It's awesome."
*
The Rose Mansion's training room. Bruno awkwardly scanned the space. It was built just for Kyle, but the scale wasn't anything surprising. He'd enjoyed the Alastor family's endless wealth since childhood too.
Just wooden swords...
He could've gotten a real sword now that he was seriously starting martial arts, but only wooden ones lined the corner.
What stood out was how each wooden sword had a slightly different shape. They looked familiar somehow. Bruno blinked, then realized where he'd seen them.
The most common ones resembled Fenris, stuck in the Sword Apex Hall floor for the past five years. The others mimicked swords from the Sword Garden.
Not exact copies—the lengths were adjusted for Kyle's size—but Bruno couldn't fathom Kyle's intentions. Fenris made sense since Grandpa promised it to him, but why a bunch mimicking Sword Garden blades?
Where the hell did this punk go after dragging me here?
Bruno glanced at the firmly shut door. He'd yanked Bruno from his run, left him waiting in the training room, and still hadn't returned.
What if Father came looking...?
Sitting idle like this, anxiety crept up. Then the door burst open.
Bruno flinched and half-stood awkwardly. Fear of the father he'd imagined, but it wasn't him.
It was Kyle.
"...?"
Kyle wasn't alone. Lucia followed him into the room, her face stiff with discomfort. She bowed politely to Bruno.
"Greetings, Bruno-nim."
"Lu... Lucia? Why are you here?"
It was time for knight candidates' morning lessons. Bruno himself was skipping the academy schedule thanks to being a pureblood Alastor.
"I called her."
Kyle said it boldly.
"More precisely, I asked Mom to summon her."
No matter Kyle's favor with Grandpa Julius, a kid like him couldn't just pull Lucia from training.
"It's not your first time here. How long you gonna act all awkward?"
"I've been awkward every time you've invited me."
Lucia replied hesitantly. She'd been invited a few times before for meals at the Rose Mansion, but pureblood quarters still felt off to her.
"Besides, this is your private space. A wretch like me in a place like—"
"It's public from today. And I told you I hate when you talk like that."
Kyle stopped approaching Bruno and shot Lucia a look.
"What 'wretch'? What's so wrong with you?"
"I'll be careful."
Lucia paused, then smiled faintly. Bruno's jaw dropped. He'd never seen her smile like that.
"Hey. Got your sword?"
Kyle's foot nudged Bruno's knee as he closed in. His mannerisms screamed back-alley thug more than Alastor grandson.
"Sw... sword?"
"Yeah, sword. Heard you have your own. Pull it out."
"Why a sword...?"
"I said pull it, pig."
As Kyle's brows furrowed, Bruno swallowed hard and stood clumsily. Whoosh! Space rippled near his right hand, and a massive greatsword materialized.
These kids these days carry swords so conveniently.
Kyle stifled a chuckle. The greatsword was stored in the subspace pendant around Bruno's neck normally, summonable at will.
"Lucia, draw yours."
"Yes."
Lucia nodded calmly and unsheathed her waist sword. Her straight blade was plain, unremarkable.
"Now, face each other."
"Wh-what for?"
Bruno panicked, but Lucia stayed impassive. Kyle had already briefed her.
"What do you do when two people have swords drawn? Fight."
"Wha...?"
"What, no confidence?"
Bruno hesitated without answering. He glanced at Lucia, then back at Kyle.
"Look at me. How am I supposed to swing a sword like this?"
He still wore the mana-disrupting bracelets, heavy vest, and leg bags.
"Ditch the heavy stuff. Keep the bracelets."
"But Father...!"
"Did you get Uncle's permission to come here? No. You've already disobeyed once—what's one more? He gonna kill you?"
Bruno wrestled briefly, then removed the vest and leg bags as ordered.
"Why... keep the bracelets?"
"I'll explain later."
"Sparring with real swords... it's dangerous. Wooden ones at least...!"
"Even at full power, you couldn't hurt Lucia. Quit worrying."
Bruno's brow twitched.
"What did you just say...?"
"What? Think I'm wrong? You believe that?"
No teasing lilt. Kyle's eyes held the same eerie pressure from a week ago. Bruno opened his mouth to retort, but shut it without a word.
Infuriating, but true. At 13, Lucia had become a knight candidate this year. Among trainees, only seniors on the cusp of knighthood were clearly stronger—and even they couldn't match her pure swordsmanship.
"Go all out. Lucia, hold back, match him. Too much?"
"Doesn't matter."
Lucia replied evenly. Seeing it boiled Bruno's blood. He acknowledged she was stronger, but for a demon-tainted hybrid to look down on him?
"Begin."
Kyle folded his arms and stepped back.
Bruno stuck to his training—didn't charge blindly, observed Lucia. No openings. None apparent. Like with Kyle a week ago, but her stance lacked his casual ease. She steadily aimed her tip at him.
The pressure felt different from facing Kyle. No openings, but no chilling dread either.
She wouldn't move first. He'd close in. Crush with power.
"Raaah!"
Bruno roared, hoisting his greatsword. Mana control was sluggish from the bracelets, but shedding the weights lightened his body.
He kicked off, charging. A simple, destructive overhead smash—but Lucia didn't dodge. Her blade traced a fluid arc, deflecting his.
Clang!
The metallic ring shattered Bruno's balance. His powered strike sliced empty air, sending him stumbling forward.
"Urk...!"
Lucia didn't miss. Her tip halted at his nape.
"It's over."
She said flatly. Bruno flushed crimson, head bowed. One exchange. Defeated in one. Utter humiliation.
"Pig."
Kyle clucked his tongue, approaching.
"Why'd you stop?"
"Huh... what?"
"Sword gets deflected? Reset and swing again. Why stand there like an idiot offering your neck?"
"My balance broke...!"
"Then regain it. What're those muscles for? Why bother with spirit pills all these years?"
Kyle clucked again, nudging Bruno's foot.
"If you were normally built, sure, flop like a moron when off-balance. But you're not normal. You felt it the instant your base crumbled, right? Knew your body was tipping? Why not brace?"
Bruno bit his lip.
"Who doesn't know that? I just...!"
"Too late to swing?"
"Uh...?"
"Thought you couldn't win no matter what? Hilarious. You sweat buckets slaving away on Uncle's orders, but grab a sword and you give up that fast?"
Bruno stared blankly at Kyle, speechless.
"Why charge Lucia?"
"Y-you told me to fight...!"
"Not what I meant. You faced her, knew no openings. So why charge?"
"If no opening, make one."
"Then why not charge me last time?"
"I did...!"
"'Cause Uncle threw a fit. Be real, pig. Without that, you'd have stood there forever. Right?"
"..."
"You charged Lucia not from confidence in your size and strength to create an opening. You got pissed listening to us talk. Admit it."
Bruno's mouth hung open, gut-punched. Like Kyle had read his mind.
"If you're pissed, stay pissed. One block and you quit—what's the point? Why even hold a sword?"
"..."
"You gonna spar forever? Only fight winnable foes? Sure, nobody likes losing."
Kyle snorted, nudging the greatsword.
"But cherry-picking winnable fights? Your sword won't grow. Charge unbeatable foes, lose, vow to win next time, grind, charge again. That's how it grows."
"If it seems unwinnable... just train till you can win, then fight...!"
"That's valid too."
Kyle nodded at Bruno's outburst.
"But without fighting, how do you know if you'll win or lose? You trust your judgment 100%?"
"If I lose...!"
"Then it sucks. Say 'I lost,' swear revenge inside, move on. Sparring, not real combat? Scout and bail if needed."
"B... bail?"
"What, quitting quick's fine, but running's shameful? Better than dying."
Sometimes fights couldn't be fled, or you didn't want to, or shouldn't. But.
"Easy to say...!"
Bruno stammered.
"I know it's not easy in practice. Takes time and effort to fix. Don't wanna? Keep scraping by against weaklings forever. That it?"
Bruno hesitated, then shook his head.
Only then did Kyle relax his gaze.
"Pig, thank me."
"Wha... what?"
"You're lucky."
Thud, thud.
Kyle patted Bruno's shoulder with a grin.