“How could this happen?”
Yesterday's events came back to Tailon like a nightmare.
He could not understand it.
Even if Ron had become his younger sister's Personal Knight, was Tailon not the genius swordsman of House Leonard?
Yet far from putting up any resistance, he had been beaten one-sidedly.
Would the result change if he challenged Ron again?
And yet the person reflected in the mirror looked perfectly fine. To his bewilderment, not a single mark remained on his body.
“Does this make any sense?”
After barely making it back to his room, he had expected to spend the entire day groaning in pain. He had never been beaten like that in his life and thought his body would not be able to endure it.
“Why do I feel so refreshed?!”
His body felt invigorated.
His mind, on the other hand, hurt so badly that it sent chills through him.
It was an absurd disharmony between body and mind. He felt as though a demon had bewitched him.
Tailon revisited the events he did not wish to remember, trying to discover why he had been beaten so one-sidedly. Yet even after retracing them dozens of times, he still could not understand.
“It was definitely the Dawn Sword.”
The Dawn Sword was the basic sword art of the Dawn Knight Order, an inferior sword art compared to his house's secret Heavenly Pole Sword. Anyone in the knight order could learn it, so the higher a knight rose, the more likely they were to possess a separate secret art.
It felt as though he had been robbed blind in broad daylight.
He might have been beaten one-sidedly, but perhaps he had merely been flustered because it was his first encounter with the technique. In truth, the difference between them was slight. Had he kept Ron just a little deeper within his range, the fight would not have been so one-sided.
Of course, that was nothing more than Tailon's one-sided delusion. That slight difference was, in reality, an insurmountable boundary.
Moreover, the gap between Tailon and Ron went beyond the difference between a genius and an ordinary talent. The disparity was so vast that Tailon could not comprehend it. In the end, he could only judge Ron from the level of his own understanding.
“It had to be a mistake!”
Tailon hypnotized himself.
Until now, he had never encountered anyone his own age whose talent surpassed his. His pride in being the greatest inside his well had made him lose sight of reality.
“Right, if we fight again, I'll win... Huh?”
His refusal to accept the result was one thing, but then he remembered Ron's demonic behavior. Challenging him again would be fine if he won, but the instant he lost, hell would await him. Remembering the pain he never wished to experience again made him shudder.
That was why he could not understand.
Fine. Say Ron won.
“I'm the Second Young Master of the house he serves!”
Tailon might have been the one to request the duel, but a knight of the house should have known where to draw the line. Instead, Ron had tried to break his arms and legs.
Damn it!
A fight with rank and status stripped away.
That was the kind of duel Tailon had wanted, something close to a real battle.
But when he actually encountered a madman who truly stripped away the badge of status before fighting, fear struck him without warning.
It was terrifying even to imagine how that demonic bastard might react if Tailon went looking for him again.
“Should I tell someone or not?!”
If he reported it to his father, he could have Ron charged with insulting a noble and stripped of his qualifications as a knight.
But Tailon could not do that.
How was he supposed to explain that the grounds for the charge were that he had challenged Ron to a duel and nearly been beaten to death instead?
His pride as the genius swordsman of the house was at stake. Worse, imagine if the matter became known outside the estate. He would never be able to show his face in high society again.
“Should I pretend it never happened?”
That wounded his pride as well. Giving up after a single beating went against the convictions he had always professed.
He had to keep challenging Ron until he won.
“I'll undertake closed-door training!”
A genius grew stronger even without training. If he actually trained, how much would he grow? The thought was already frightening.
“One month should be enough.”
If only to demonstrate a genius's resolve, he decided to ask his father for permission to enter closed-door training.
His father would surely be proud to see the genius finally exerting himself after never doing so before.
It was also important to make sure he received credit.
***
-Progress Rate: -74.99%
After safely making it through his private audience with the Commander and entering the Dawn Knight Order's training ground, Ron was puzzled by the change in the Progress Rate.
‘What is this?’
He had done nothing that could have caused it.
He had changed his usual inner-peace way of thinking, but not enough to affect House Leonard's military strength.
Putting his confusion aside, the change in the Progress Rate was a negligible 0.01%.
MURMUR, MURMUR!
As Ron headed toward the center of the training ground, the knights' conversations reached his ears.
Among them was the reason the Progress Rate had changed.
-The Second Young Master is entering closed-door training for a month.
-Wasn't he someone who disliked training?
-It was time he started. Talent alone has its limits.
-There are plenty of geniuses in the world. Some have reached Intermediate Expert at his age.
-He is certainly gifted, but as he grows older, he must be coming to terms with reality.
The Second Young Master's closed-door training had not been scheduled. Even now, with nothing but talent and basic training, he was considered close to a genius among his peers, at least within the eastern region. Nevertheless, it was also true that the genius he had displayed in childhood was gradually fading as the years passed.
Most importantly, although everyone avoided mentioning it openly, the Second Young Master did not have much left if one took away his swordsmanship. He had to excel at least in swordsmanship to prove his worth.
Without swordsmanship, he was a corpse. That was both the limit imposed upon the Second Young Master and his destiny. Talent alone might carry him to a certain point, but training was essential if he wished to reach a higher realm.
There was another reason the knights welcomed the Second Young Master's seclusion.
The First Young Master was frail, while the Third Young Master's swordsmanship was ordinary.
The Second Young Master was the swordsman who could represent House Leonard through the sword.
In the empire's early days, few had been capable of opposing House Leonard with a sword. As the years passed, however, House Leonard's sword had grown dull and faded compared to those of its rivals.
Once the sword ceased to distinguish it, the very existence of House Leonard became colorless and odorless. In other words, there was nothing left in which its members could take pride.
Pride could sometimes appear to be an illusion or arrogance, but for a knight, it was the greatest source of motivation. No matter how hard they worked, if the reputation of the house they served lay in the gutter, how many knights could truly endure?
After listening to their conversation, Ron began calculating.
‘A 0.01% increase per month. Then how long would it take to raise the Progress Rate by 10%?’
That was not easy.
He was also rather bad at mathematics.
After thinking a little harder and calculating it, he arrived at eighty-three years and four months.
He would round that up to eighty-four years.
Do not ask why.
‘Could I lock him up and call it closed-door training?’
If the Progress Rate rose by 10%, he might obtain at least ten Coins. Had he known this would happen, he would have knocked Tailon unconscious in one strike and left him enough room to come looking for Ron again.
‘Pass.’
Even if he locked Tailon up, it would take far too long. Tailon was not impressive enough to produce a meaningful change in the Progress Rate. Judging by the number alone, he was worth roughly the Dust Trio(Dane, Zenon, and Rotan) combined.
It was a shame to lose out on one hundred packets of ramen, but the return on investment was bad enough to get the stock delisted.
That was fortunate for Tailon. Otherwise, he might have been imprisoned without anyone knowing and forced to spend the rest of his life in closed-door training. In a previous life, Ron would have forcibly rejuvenated him to maximize the returns.
The knights' conversation shifted from the Second Young Master's seclusion to Ron. It was also why they had gathered here, so it was only natural that their attention turned toward him.
-What the hell is that bastard, anyway?
-Ron? Was there someone by that name among the Apprentice Knights?
-I must have seen him during training, so why don't I remember him?
-Did he really cut down the Blade Shadow by himself?
-Does it make any sense for someone like that to have remained quiet all this time?
The knights had heard yesterday that Ron had become the young lady's Personal Knight, but they were still half doubtful.
A few among them, however, maintained their silence.
-We can find out whether it's true during the Promotion Exam.
-Who will the Commander choose?
-He should be at least Intermediate level to become the young lady's Personal Knight.
-Hey, you bastard! Then no one would ever get promoted!
-Sir Ternoar acknowledged him. Shouldn't he at least be Intermediate level?
Traditionally, House Leonard's Promotion Exam had been administered by one of the Dawn Knight Order's Lower-Grade Knights. An Apprentice Knight had to be capable of contending with a Lower-Grade Knight to earn promotion. It also provided the Lower-Grade Knight conducting the exam with an opportunity to improve.
‘You lunatics, just shut up.’
‘O Talein, please don't let me be chosen!’
‘That bastard is a different species. He's the Demon of Origin!’
‘Calamity upon those bastards getting ahead of themselves!’
The senior knights who had helped Ron maintain his self-imposed isolation desperately prayed that they would not be chosen. Now that Ron had decided to reveal his true nature, there was no telling what he might do. Whether the match ended in an instant or did not end at all, there was no possible way it would end well.
‘He had been quiet all this time.’
‘Why would someone who never wanted to step forward suddenly do this?’
‘Could he have feelings for the young lady?’
‘That doesn't sound like him. He has a very definite type.’
‘His preferences deserve respect.’
The senior knights knew which maid Ron had his eye on.
Even in their eyes, she was a voluptuous maid who naturally drew attention. They were watching meticulously to ensure that no romantic connection formed between her and anyone in the knight order.
At the same time, Ron had not even spoken to her. He had merely marked her as his, leaving the rest of them to suffer in frustration.
At this rate, she might remain an old maid for the rest of her life.
“We will now conduct the Promotion Exam.”
Every gaze gathered upon the low, resonant voice of Crimson Rovero, Commander of the Dawn Knight Order.
True to his title as the First Knight of House Leonard, he possessed a charisma that overwhelmed everyone around him.
“Britten, step forward.”
“Leave it to me, Commander!”
Anticipation appeared in the knights' eyes.
Britten was a promising knight within the current order, someone considered capable of challenging for promotion to Intermediate Knight. In other words, his official Grade was Lower, but his actual skill was Intermediate.
‘Sir Ternoar has grown old.’
Britten did not like the fact that Ron, a mere Apprentice Knight, had become the Personal Knight entrusted with remaining at the young lady's side.
The young lady's Personal Knight should naturally have been someone of Britten's caliber. Ron was merely a fledgling who had been lucky enough to catch their attention.
Nevertheless, Britten's self-discipline was not so poor that he would reveal his emotions. A knight needed only to speak through his sword. He was confident he could handle a fledgling who was only now about to shed the label of Apprentice Knight however he pleased.
The two men stood at the center of the training ground.
SNAP—!
As the junior, Ron observed the proper etiquette. It was an influence from having been born in the Eastern Land of Courtesy in his previous life.
Though he had eventually become the gangster of the East.
The virtues of concession and humility had brought him nothing but excessive work and responsibility. The Korean custom of piling work onto the competent was a shortcut to death by overwork and mutual ruin.
“I ask for a lesson.”
“Now that we stand here, you and I are merely two knights. As a knight of the great House Leonard, you must do your utmost.”
What's with the solemnity?
Ron simply accepted it for what it was.
They had exchanged greetings, so he waited for Commander Crimson's order.
“Begin.”
The knights surrounded the training ground like a wall.
Standing apart from one another, Ron and Britten drew their swords, raised them vertically, then lowered them diagonally. It was the Dawn Knight Order's formal sword salute before a duel.
“I am coming.”
“Come.”
The junior's right—the first move.
Ron surged forward.
The instant he stepped, dust billowed behind him as though a six-cylinder engine had discharged its output.
VROOOOM, WHOOSH—!
OOOH!
Exclamations erupted at his greater-than-expected speed. He had unquestionably surpassed the speed of an Apprentice Knight.
“So there was a reason he entered the Promotion Exam.”
“He might actually have a chance at that level.”
“But his opponent is Britten, one of our knight order's rising stars.”
The admiration throughout the training ground did not reach Ron's ears. He closed the distance rapidly and swung his sword.
CLANG—!
Britten knocked aside Ron's diagonal slash as though shoving it away.
‘Got him.’
Ron was fairly fast, but Britten did not doubt his own victory. If this became a contest of strength against strength, the result was obvious.
Apprentice < Lower-Grade.
The balance of power was clear.
Ron twisted his sword at an angle and redirected Britten's blade. As the blades slid across one another, their edges ground together and sent sparks flying.
CRACKLE-CRACKLE-CRACKLE—!
Redirection was an advanced swordsmanship technique. It looked simple from the outside, but executing one in the instant two swords locked together was far from easy.
The proof lay in the many beginners who attempted a redirection to draw an opponent in, only to be cut down in a single stroke. The less experienced one was, the more important it was to rely on what one did best rather than attempt a clumsy technique.
WHOOSH—!
When Ron redirected his sword, Britten pulled his blade free before losing his balance, changed its direction, and attacked the opening.
Britten's swordsmanship shifted from a diagonal cut to a horizontal slash, then into a straight thrust. He made the path of his sword dazzling to scatter Ron's gaze and prevent him from seizing control of the flow. It was an effective counterattack against an inexperienced opponent.
CLANG-CLANG-CLANG—!
An ordinary Apprentice Knight would inevitably have panicked. After executing a decisive redirection, he would have intended to disrupt Britten's center of gravity and exploit the resulting opening.
Yet the Promotion Exam developed into a sustained exchange. Sword collided with sword, locking together without pause.
OOOOH!
Exclamations broke out among the knights.
A Promotion Exam ordinarily ended once the Lower-Grade Knight had assessed the Apprentice Knight's capabilities. The final judgment was made by gathering the opinions of the Commander, the Vice Commander, and the higher-ranking knights.
As a result, even an exchange of attacks and defenses rarely lasted long, much less an evenly matched duel. A fairly high-level exchange like this was even more uncommon. In real combat, opponents were more often unequal in skill than evenly matched.
Regardless of the surrounding admiration, this was the flow Ron had intended.
‘I can't end it too quickly.’