Amid the rising cloud of dust, Rodos and Igrun stood with their backs to one another.
Silence settled over the training grounds.
Their sword and axes gleamed beneath the rising sunlight.
THUD.
In the midst of the silence, Rodos clutched his chest and dropped to one knee.
His legs had given out after putting everything he had into that final strike.
A deep diagonal wound stretched across his chest.
Had he not drawn aether toward his chest at the last moment, that single slash would have killed him outright.
‘I succeeded.’
The wound was quite severe, yet Rodos was smiling.
He had felt the axe he swung at the end connect with Igrun.
The exhilaration of finally succeeding after so many failed attacks was impossible to describe.
Rodos looked down at his blood-soaked hand.
The blood was warm.
That warmth reminded him that he was alive.
It was a sensation he could obtain only through battle.
Rodos put strength into his legs and rose.
He wanted to see with his own eyes whether his attack had truly landed.
Blood was still flowing from his chest.
“To think you counterattacked in that situation.”
Igrun was the one who broke the silence.
Apparently having no intention of continuing the fight, he returned his sword to its sheath.
‘I did it.’
Seeing that, Rodos smiled even more brightly.
Two distinct wounds were clearly visible across Igrun’s back.
He had done more than merely scratch Igrun.
He had actually wounded him.
‘Remarkable.’
Igrun looked at Rodos.
He could scarcely believe the throbbing wounds across his back.
And the one who had inflicted them was Young Master Rodos.
Igrun recalled what had happened moments earlier.
He had forgotten that this was merely a spar and swung his sword in earnest.
Although he had not used aura, the strike had carried enough force to cut through most things in a single blow.
‘He did not evade.’
Yet Rodos had chosen neither to dodge nor block the sword.
An ordinary knight or swordsman would have chosen to defend against the attack.
Defeating an opponent was important, but not more important than one’s life.
Rodos, however, had surrendered his own body to the strike rather than avoiding it, forced his way inside, and swung his axe.
Just like a Northern warrior.
It was precisely because he had refused to retreat and pressed forward instead that he had managed to wound Igrun.
‘What was that power just now?’
Igrun had seen it clearly.
The axe blade had glowed white.
He had sensed no recognizable energy from it, yet it contained unimaginable power.
It was a force he had never witnessed even among the Northern warriors.
It was not aura.
Had Igrun not instinctively wrapped his upper body in aura to defend himself, his wounds would have been far more serious.
‘I lost.’
Igrun acknowledged his defeat without reservation.
The moment he had used aura to block Rodos’s axe, he had effectively lost the wager.
“It is my defeat.”
Igrun placed a fist over his chest and lowered himself onto one knee.
It was the posture taken by the loser of Tinder Mot.
Rodos placed a hand atop Igrun’s head.
By placing a hand on the defeated warrior’s head, the victor formally acknowledged that the battle had ended.
‘That was an enjoyable fight.’
Rodos no longer felt the pain.
The exhilaration of winning the duel, the satisfaction of successfully attacking with aether, and the thrill of fighting on the boundary between life and death after so long filled his entire body.
Covered in blood, he looked up at the sky.
A tomahawk remained in each hand.
The fully risen sun shone down upon Rodos.
“Do with me as you wish.”
Igrun waited for Rodos to state his demand.
Whatever Rodos asked of him, Igrun intended to accept it.
“I would like you to be my sparring partner from now on.”
Without hesitation, Rodos extended his blood-covered hand.
“Is that truly all you want?”
Igrun’s eyes widened.
The victor of Tinder Mot received tremendous authority over the loser.
Yet Rodos was asking for nothing more than a sparring partner.
Even from the defeated man’s perspective, the request seemed absurdly modest.
“That is more than enough.”
Rodos nodded.
There was no question that he had won Tinder Mot.
But he had not truly won the fight.
At most, he had managed to inflict a few wounds.
Knowing one’s own place.
It was one of the virtues a Northern warrior could never afford to forget.
If sparring with Igrun allowed him to revive his combat instincts and accumulate experience, that was more than enough.
‘He is humble.’
Igrun was impressed.
Rodos was not greedy.
He had given everything he had during the battle, yet now he behaved with humility.
Unlike many of the knights these days, the proper attitude of both a knight and a warrior seemed deeply ingrained in him.
“Understood. Is there a particular time you would prefer?”
Igrun rose and shook Rodos’s hand.
Now that things had come to this, he intended to serve sincerely as Rodos’s sparring partner.
“Every morning at dawn. This same time.”
“Then I will see you tomorrow. And please visit the infirmary and at least have that wound bandaged.”
Rodos nodded and adjusted his grip on the tomahawks.
Then he resumed training alone, swinging his axes.
His passion truly was extraordinary.
As Igrun left the training grounds, he muttered,
“It seems my mornings will be rather interesting for a while.”
***
At dawn the following day, Rodos headed toward the training grounds.
He was dressed no differently than usual.
There was one difference, however.
He was smiling as though he were looking forward to something.
‘I am looking forward to this.’
Rodos’s heart beat faster.
Starting today, he would be sparring with Igrun.
Just thinking that he could have another battle like yesterday made his fighting spirit surge.
Igrun was already seated in a chair at the training grounds, tending to his sword.
“You are here.”
Rodos placed his axes beside him and began warming up.
Warming up always came first.
“Let us begin immediately.”
After quickly loosening his body, Rodos took a tomahawk in each hand.
He was ready.
Igrun picked up his freshly maintained sword as well.
“Very well. We will begin without delay.”
“Good.”
Rodos nodded.
That was precisely what he wanted.
There was no reason to waste time.
He wanted to cross weapons as many times as possible.
“Be careful not to injure yourself too badly.”
Rodos nodded.
If he suffered a serious injury before the duel, all his preparations would be ruined.
That did not mean he intended to hold back.
He needed to raise his abilities as much as possible during the time remaining if he wanted to defeat Harka.
Of course, there was also the simple fact that he enjoyed fighting.
Giving everything he had in every battle was the mindset of a Northern warrior.
Rodos kicked off the ground like a violent gust of wind.
CLANG!
“You are fast. But far too predictable.”
Igrun spoke as he casually raised his sword and blocked the attack.
He twisted the blade toward Rodos’s head.
Rodos smoothly leaned his head backward.
The blade skimmed past and cut several strands of his hair.
It did not matter.
That had allowed him to get closer to Igrun.
Both of Rodos’s axes slipped inside his guard.
The distance was too short for Igrun to block them with a normal sword swing.
“You chose your opening well, but—”
Igrun used his shoulder like a shield and slammed into Rodos.
The surprisingly heavy force drove Rodos backward.
Igrun did not miss the opening.
Not even for an instant.
He swung his sword, knocking both axes from Rodos’s hands while simultaneously sending Rodos to the ground.
“!”
Rodos rolled across the ground and tried to retrieve his tomahawks, but he could not.
The tip of Igrun’s sword was already pointed at his throat.
“It is over. I will see you tomorrow.”
Igrun withdrew his sword and headed toward the Knight Commander’s office.
Rodos was left alone on the training grounds.
Their first day of sparring had ended far more abruptly than he had expected.
Lying flat on the ground, Rodos looked up at the sky and laughed.
‘I lost miserably.’
Rodos was disappointed.
He had lost before he could even fight properly.
Igrun’s movements had been different from yesterday.
He seemed to have finished analyzing Rodos, effortlessly evading his attacks before subduing him.
No matter how Rodos moved, he could not reach him.
His current body was still insufficient after all.
‘I still have time.’
Rodos pushed himself upright and steeled his resolve.
The spar had been short, but he had gained a great deal from it.
Defeat was frustrating, but if there was something to be learned from the battle, then it was still worthwhile.
***
From then on, their spars continued without missing a single day.
Rain or fierce winds made no difference.
The duration of their spars grew longer with each passing day.
Rodos was gradually beginning to keep pace with Igrun’s movements.
He was retracing a path he had already walked once before, and realistic combat training allowed him to improve rapidly.
“Good. Sometimes you must know when to create distance and retreat.”
“Knowing the reach of your own weapon is important, but knowing your opponent’s reach is even more important.”
As their spars continued, Igrun offered various pieces of advice with an increasingly satisfied expression.
‘He should have been born into a family renowned for swordsmanship, not magic.’
Igrun was impressed.
Rodos absorbed his teachings far more quickly than the knights serving under him.
He could understand why a Northern elder had chosen to teach Rodos martial techniques.
‘This is extremely helpful.’
Rodos was equally satisfied.
Igrun had wielded a sword for many years and possessed a wealth of experience.
There were even things he knew that Rodos did not.
Beyond simply reviving his combat instincts, absorbing the accumulated experience and knowledge of a swordsman like Igrun was deeply rewarding.
“You seem to have grown quite accustomed to your weapons now.”
Rodos nodded at Igrun’s words.
He was right.
The more weapons they crossed, the more the two tomahawks became extensions of Rodos himself.
Subtle sensations such as their weight, the feel of the handles, and their exact reach were becoming clearly engraved into his hands.
“Is the Commander sparring with Young Master Rodos right now?”
“He has been for a while. It started about two weeks ago.”
The knights who witnessed the two sparring together stared in bewilderment.
It was difficult to believe what they were seeing.
“You know the Commander never crosses swords with anyone he has not personally acknowledged.”
No matter how much they thought about it, the knights could reach only one conclusion from the fact that the Commander sparred with Rodos every day.
“Then… the Commander acknowledged Young Master Rodos?”
“My goodness.”
The knights shook their heads.
Just what level of skill did Young Master Rodos possess for the Commander himself to personally spar with him?
It seemed they truly could no longer dismiss him.
News that the Knight Commander was personally sparring with Rodos eventually reached Harka as well.
“Young Master Harka, I have received word that the Knight Commander himself has been sparring with Rodos.”
“Is that true?”
“Yes. I saw it myself. He fought surprisingly well.”
“I see.”
Harka was not particularly interested.
In the end, it was nothing more than the petty tricks of knights.
His magic would end the fight in moments.
“I believe we should lodge a formal protest with the Knight Order. An Imperial knight is interfering in the family’s affairs. If you give the order, I will immediately go to the Knight Order and—”
“That is enough.”
Harka frowned and thrust a ball of flame toward the servant’s face.
He was being noisy.
“There is no need. Leave them alone. No matter what he does, he is still a fool who knows nothing but how to swing an axe.”
Harka laughed.
Rodos’s efforts to prepare for their duel seemed utterly pathetic to him.
“No matter what that bastard does, I will be the victor.”