Fenris Acknowledges Its Master
"If you want to see some swords, by all means."
Kyle shrugged. Julius, whom he hadn't seen in four years, seemed even more mischievous than before. To think he'd skip the touching reunion embrace and demand a performance right away.
He didn't mind, though. Kyle took a deep breath. After four years of breathing the foul stench of mudflats, sea rot, and bloated corpses, this was a relief. The outside air felt crisp and sweet.
Beyond the taste of the air, he sensed many changes. Even if he'd grown used to it, the Layers of the Capital had rigid mana crystallization. Out here, there was none.
Right now, Kyle circulated mana through his entire body without any conscious effort, and it felt utterly natural and free. His body felt light enough to fly. Maybe I really could soar.
Curious, he gave a light hop in place... but no, he couldn't fly.
Not quite that light.
Still, his body and mana felt incredibly light.
[Outside! We're outside!]
Yormungand whooped noisily in his chest. Ignoring it, Kyle scanned the surroundings again. Julius had said today was the day he'd gathered the young ones to see their swords.
Perfect timing. He was glad he'd eaten, bathed, and changed into fresh clothes before coming out. Dropped here by some prankster's whim, showing up filthy and ragged like a beggar would've been a disaster.
Kyle surveyed the spectator seats around the training grounds. Alastor knight trainees, apprentices, and full knights. Plenty of others too.
He spotted familiar faces. His other uncles and aunts sat in the upper seats, but Erica was in the stands. She'd apparently graduated from apprenticeship; she wore the full Aurora Knight Order uniform, eyes wide as she stared at Kyle.
Kyle waved to Erica, then shifted to the next familiar face. Bruno. Still in apprentice uniform. The guy had been huge four years ago, but now he rivaled his father Barkas in bulk. Kyle waved to the slack-jawed Bruno too.
And Lucia.
Like Bruno, she wore apprentice knight garb, eyes round. Kyle waved to her as well.
He saw cousins Cassius, Bekiuss, and Vivian in the stands too, but they weren't close, so no wave. Finishing his sweep, Kyle looked up at Julius in the upper seats.
"...?"
No Arian or Aslan. A spirit summoner like Arian might skip this, but the Sword Maniac Aslan wouldn't miss a spectacle. Puzzled, Kyle asked Julius something else.
"Who should I spar with?"
"Hmm. How about one of the duelists you interrupted?"
"Hm."
Kyle eyed the awkwardly standing swordsmen. Their intense duel cut short, they were understandably miffed. They'd both thought one more exchange would've clinched victory, and now this kid had stolen the spotlight.
"Anyone of you two want to spar with me?"
Kyle gave them the choice. Their skills were evenly matched—nothing special. Even both at once wouldn't be an issue.
But bragging like that would spread rumors of the Alastor youngest as an arrogant brat. Kyle didn't care about his reputation—he'd been cursed plenty in his past life—but if it looped back to Arian via "poor upbringing," better to play nice here.
"..."
The swordsmen glanced at each other, hesitating. Annoyed as they were, they couldn't snap.
Just moments ago.
Kyle had dropped from thin air and deflected swords coming from both sides—sword aura-clad blades, barehanded.
That alone showed the gap... and those golden eyes felt profoundly deep. Just facing him made them want to lower—not just drop—their swords.
"I'm the one embarrassed here."
Striding into the grounds was a blond youth with a ponytail. No family crest or knight order uniform—just unmarked leather armor. He glared at the hesitant swordsmen and sneered.
"If you're scared, sheathe and scram."
"W-what?"
"Who the hell—"
They bristled, then recognized him and shrank back.
"J-Jade..."
Crack Fang Jade. The mad dog sweeping the western dueling circuits. A wandering knight licensed in Lancel—the knight kingdom—he took pay to settle grudges or proxy duel trials.
Despised as vulgar, but his swordsmanship was undeniable. As the others wilted, Jade snorted and drew his blade.
"I said scram."
It wasn't ordinary.
One side jagged like shark teeth or a saw—designed to rip flesh, not slice, and shatter foe blades. A sword breaker.
Kyle's eyes sparkled. He'd seen plenty in past-life battlefields, but first in this life. Tricky but devastating; drawing it boldly meant confidence.
Looks the part.
Unlike the others averting eyes, Jade met Kyle's golden gaze—the abyssal depths—and twisted his lips.
"Weird eyes on you, young master. How old?"
"Fifteen."
"How's a pampered heir's gaze that?"
"Been through some rough patches lately."
Jade cackled at the deadpan reply. The other two slunk off, shoulders slumped.
Ting! Jade flicked the saw-toothed blade.
"Young master. My sword's nasty."
His eyes flicked to the crimson Blood Fang at Kyle's waist—clearly no ordinary blade.
"One that can break, right? Won't whine later..."
"Can't use this."
"What?"
"Has its own master."
Kyle scanned the stands.
"Anyone lend a wooden sword?"
Jade's brow furrowed.
"Young master. Wooden sword? Face my blade with a stick?"
"Depends who's wielding it—even better than a masterwork."
"You serious? Borrow a real sword if you lack one. This castle's sword central."
"I'd love to, but my first true blade's already chosen."
"No idea what that means. So no spar without wood? Even as Alastor heir, I won't hold back in—"
"You fight with your mouth sans sword?"
Kyle grinned.
"So whiny. Why draw if just yapping?"
"..."
"Didn't want to push, but oh well. My first true sword..."
Then—
BOOM!
Something streaked from the sky, slamming into the training grounds center. Jade leaped back startled, but Kyle stood firm, staring.
With the roar, a sword impaled the ground. Plain, unadorned, black blade like an ink stroke.
The dwarf-forged blade he'd revered as Crow Mercenary leader, claimed post-revenge. Cherished 18 years, symbol of the Sword Ghost.
The blade that shared the Sword Ghost's end.
Kyle's eyes widened at Fenris.
How it flew from Sword Apex Hall didn't matter. One thing was sure.
Before Kyle sought it, Fenris found him.
"You bastard."
Grinning, Kyle whispered and reached for the hilt.
"Finally recognize your master?"
First seeing Fenris in Sword Apex Hall at age five, he'd begged Julius for it.
Exactly ten years.
Julius's deadline had been ten. He'd worried it'd take longer—never dreamed it'd hit exactly, earning Fenris's nod.
Recognition?
Reconsidering soured his mood. Raikal was Fenris's master; Kyle, Raikal reborn. Dwarf-made, kept by Ruin till end, 500-year goblin spirit. Impressive, but still a sword.
Dare a sword pick masters?
Grip. Kyle seized the hilt. Black mist only he sensed billowed from Fenris.
"Pipe down, bastard."
He snarled at the emerging shadow wolf and strode forward. Mist vanished; Fenris pulled free.
A fleeting resonance ended. Strangely, Kyle felt 'emotion' from Fenris—pure panic.
Act like a sword.
Ridiculous for the sword to panic when the wielder didn't. Kyle coldly rebuked and leveled Fenris at Jade.
"Was gonna borrow wood, but my chosen first true blade showed up."
Jade gaped, shocked. Sword from sky was wild—but Kyle's shifted aura, gripping the true blade, stunned more.
"As wished, true steel it is. Come on."
Don't approach. Death awaits. Chilled, Jade swallowed. Instinct screamed, but he crushed it. Veteran of countless battles, killer many times over. Ready for his end someday—but today?
Thrill amid shivers, he kicked off.
Whoosh! Sword breaker gripped two-handed, red sword aura flaring, savage slashes like beast fangs bore down.
To meet the frontal barrage, Kyle raised Fenris sideways. Hummm...! Low vibration hummed; violet haze cloaked the blade.
One strike.
Enough. Kyle's calm amid Jade's frenzy. Swish. Neither too fast nor slow, Fenris flowed.
Into the maelstrom.
One swing ensnared and severed all slashes. Unbroken advance ended blade-to-blade.
Clang!
Like shattering glass.
"...?!"
Jade's eyes widened in horror. He'd seen it—yet lagged comprehending. Sword aura severed? Woven aura, so easily?
Push thinking aside. Jade twisted to trap Kyle's blade.
Pulled the hilt—but felt impossible lightness.
Bound to.
Sword breaker's blade crumbled like sand, spilling to the ground. What Jade yanked was hilt alone—once a sword.
"Can break, right?"
Speechless, Jade gawked at Kyle.
"Said no whining, but you can bill me."
"..."
"Family's loaded."
Kyle sheathed Fenris with a curt expression.