5.
Kun’s unexpected action stirred a wave of murmurs among the children. Not only the trainees but even the instructors themselves fell silent, unable to find words. Some stared at him as if their minds had gone blank, while others drilled him with sharp, gloating looks. Those were the ones who had long harbored envy and resentment toward him — such as the Silver twins.
Hmph, idiot!
Let them teach him a proper lesson!
Envy, jealousy, excitement, curiosity, mockery — Kun could feel all those emotions aimed at him through his skin. Of course, it wasn’t that no one had invited him. Aside from the Silvers and the heir of House Rosetta, plenty had wanted to join him. Kun simply chose not to associate with them.
At last the senior instructor, staring intently at the boy, spoke:
“...Ku, Ethan, what does this mean? Are you truly planning to challenge it alone?”
He was clearly unsettled as well, nearly letting Kun’s true name slip before correcting himself.
I was told he trains alone and doesn’t seek company, but still...
Is he really attempting the exam solo? Either the boy has lost his mind, or he actually has a plan.
The senior instructor’s gaze behind the mask grew heavy. Kun nodded in response.
“Yes. That’s correct.”
He answered with an expressionless face and drew the wooden sword hanging at his waist.
Pride? Or perhaps... ?
Whatever the reason, it would soon become clear. The senior instructor gave a short nod.
“...Very well. Then we begin the trial.”
Arrogance or not — he made his own decision. That meant he would pay the price himself.
As soon as the command was spoken, one of the regular instructors stepped forward.
It was a man with a powerful torso that looked carved from solid stone. Broad shoulders and a sturdy build suggested dwarf blood. Kun narrowed his eyes slightly.
This man?
The face was familiar. One of the instructors of the Third Moat he saw constantly. Only his equipment had changed. Kun carefully examined his opponent.
A wooden broadsword and a round shield covering a third of his torso.
As expected from a warrior with such a massive shield, this man was a member of the Black Lion order known as the “Iron Wall Grollan.” The nickname spoke for itself: perfect balance of offense and defense. Grollan preferred to exhaust his enemy with airtight defense before delivering a crushing counterattack.
The ground seemed to vibrate beneath his steps. Reaching the center, he adjusted his grip on the shield.
Clang!
Then, with obvious disapproval, he looked at Kun over the shield’s edge.
Ethan.
As a regular instructor, Grollan knew nothing about the boy’s secret origin. But about the Third Moat trainee named Ethan, he knew plenty.
The weakest and most unremarkable body in all of Lion’s Moat.
In any other intake such a weakling would have been expelled in the first week. Essentially he had been sent here as a living teaching aid — an example of what happens to the hopeless. The instructors even made bets on which day he would give up. Most wagered he wouldn’t last a month.
As far as Grollan remembered, such “runts” never lasted more than three weeks. But...
He did not fall behind.
On the contrary, as if mocking their bets, he clung to training with his teeth. And now, two years later, he had become one of the best trainees of the Third Moat.
Even if outwardly he still looked skinny...
Grollan admitted — the boy had put in tremendous effort.
But to make such a mistake and come one-on-one...
Had defeating Barison’s gang gone to his head? Now, in Grollan’s eyes, Kun looked like an ordinary youth blinded by his own success. The instructor sighed heavily.
Still, it’s a shame to break him this early.
Even if he fails now, there will be another chance in two months. It would benefit the boy’s future to taste a real wall right now. Grollan slowly extended his arm, tapped the tip of his sword against the shield, and beckoned Kun with a finger.
I’ll show you, brat, that there are walls in this world you cannot break, even if you put your soul into the strike.
There, there!
The opponent tapped the shield and provocatively beckoned him. Kun involuntarily raised an eyebrow.
“...?”
Usually instructors allowed trainees to attack first, but that was an unspoken rule. No one had ever done it so demonstratively and provocatively. Kun’s pupils slowly widened. He saw Grollan’s stance: weight shifted back, sword angled, and he himself almost entirely hidden behind the shield, only his eyes visible. A true hermit crab in battle position.
This stance...
It was built for defense. Noticing the open contempt toward him, Kun smiled faintly.
Crunch, scrape!
Thunderous impacts and harsh grinding battered the ears endlessly. It was hard to believe such deafening noise came from wood striking wood. With every clash between Grollan’s wooden broadsword and Kun’s sword, splinters flew.
A sharp fragment cut the skin near his eye, and Kun bared his teeth in a crooked grin. With a cold gaze he evaluated the instructor’s strength.
About sixty percent... no, less than fifty.
Surprisingly, despite the visible ferocity of the fight, the opponent had not yet revealed his cards.
But that made sense.
No matter how hellish the training, the trainees were still sixteen or seventeen. To surpass a first- or upper-class Weapon Aura master at that age was practically impossible. Even Taylor Rosetta could not do it, let alone the others. Grollan was likely completely certain Kun could not defeat him. And that certainty was exactly what Kun was counting on!
Bang!
“...?”
Kun was thrown back, and at that moment a strange energy began pulsing around him.
Shhhhh—!
An ominous sensation, as if black ink had been splashed onto white paper and begun spreading everywhere. The birds sensed something wrong first — they shrieked and shot into the sky.
Flap-flap! Caw-caw!
In a world that momentarily dimmed into black and white, Kun quietly spoke:
“Vision Technique.”
The voice sounded as clear as if he stood right beside Grollan’s ear, despite the distance between them. At that moment, the Dark Arts of the monster named Myung manifested in this world for the first time.
As the name implied, the Vision Technique was an art of creating hallucinations. Magic that distorted perception and senses, forcing a person to see what was not there. They said in ancient times Myung used this technique to unleash visions of hell upon enemies.
Of course, my strength now isn’t enough for anything grand.
But deceiving an instructor’s eyes for a moment — that was entirely within his power. Normally it would be nearly impossible: breaking a Weapon Aura master’s mental barrier was extremely difficult. But if the opponent underestimated you and relaxed for a second...!!
As if confirming it, the moment the technique finished, the muscles in Kun’s legs bulged. His body shot forward like a cannonball with a whistle.
— !!
The movement was twenty percent faster than before. A double step: Kun used both real acceleration and the perception distortion of illusion. To Grollan, it should look as if the boy simply vanished from sight, suddenly gaining speed.
And so it did. Instructor Grollan cried out in surprise:
“What?!”
That fast?!
Even if only for a moment, he hadn’t expected a trainee to leave his field of vision. Not knowing he had fallen under Dark Arts, Grollan reached the only logical conclusion. Had he been a mediocre knight, he would already have lost. But...
Unfortunately for Kun, Grollan was not mediocre. Years in the Black Lion order and countless battles had honed his senses nearly to the highest level. A warrior’s instinct gave him the correct answer. His senses clawed through the surrounding space instantly.
Whoosh—!
Right side!
He felt something sharp rapidly approaching from the right flank. The strike aimed diagonally from behind. The speed was such he no longer had time to turn the shield. The slightest mistake — and he was defeated...! A chill ran across his skin.
Then...!!
Forgetting restraint, Grollan delivered his strongest blow with the broadsword, pouring in so much force the blade seemed to burn.
The strike was so powerful that Kun’s attacking body flew like a bullet in the opposite direction. He hit the ground several times and slammed at full speed into a massive tree.
The tree that took the terrible impact fell with a mournful groan. A cloud of dust and sand rose, the forest trembled. Grollan, only now regaining composure, went pale.
“W-what have I done?!”
In shock he misjudged his strength.
“Hey, Ethan! Are you... are you alive?!”
He rushed in panic toward the crash site, but then...
“Kh, kh...”
From behind the curtain of dust came a sound that froze the blood — a bubbling cough with blood. Kun, blood streaming from nose and mouth, stood leaning on a fragment of the wooden sword like a cane. His gaze was fixed on Grollan.
“Kh, kh...”
But something about his posture was wrong. That he hadn’t lost consciousness was already a miracle. Yet Kun, enduring the pain, defiantly extended his free hand forward.
“What...?!”
Grollan stared at his fingers and saw a blue button there. In horror he sharply turned toward his own shoulder.
— !?
The cloth on his right shoulder had been torn out as if by a wild beast’s claws. Only then did Grollan understand Kun’s plan.
Could it be that attack from the start was only bait, and his goal was...!?
In the end, the condition was the button, and Kun acted with maximum efficiency. But Grollan lost precisely because Kun forced him to forget the rules and fear for his life. Kun spat blood and spoke:
“This... pth.”
He looked at the instructor with inflamed eyes while blood continued to cover his face.
“This... the first... stage... cleared.”
Incredible speed that deceived a master’s eye for a moment, the courage to use a lethal strike as bait, and the will not to release the button even as pain twisted his insides. As the saying goes: give flesh to take bone.
I knew he was unusual even when he first started clenching his teeth in training, but this...
Grollan shook his head with faint horror. Looking at Kun, who was already beginning to lose consciousness, he muttered:
“Madman.”
In his voice sounded a mixture of shock and the deepest admiration.