6.
“Madman...”
As Grollan’s stunned whisper faded, the rest of the trainees finally grasped what had happened, and a furious roar erupted across the training ground.
— U-o-o-o-a-a-a!
It was understandable. Truly, there wasn’t a soul present who had predicted Kun’s victory. Everyone had bet he’d last three, at most seven, minutes.
Neither the instructors of the Third Moat, who knew his potential, nor even Taylor Rosetta were exceptions. Yet Kun seemed to laugh at their expectations: he had not merely performed respectably — he had wrested victory from a knight.
— Incredible!
— Did you see that? Did you see?!
While the trainees raged, the senior instructor slowly turned. He saw flushed-faced adolescents arguing excitedly, some looking at Kun lying in the dust with undisguised awe.
Even Louis Silver, that bear of a boy, was no exception. Forgetting the recent clash and his dislike, he was howling with excitement along with everyone else:
— That was... that was simply amazing!
His sister, Lua Silver, stood frozen with her mouth agape, unable to look away from Kun. Being scions of a famed fencing family, they could not deny the mastery they had just witnessed.
That boy... he actually bested an instructor.
Taylor Rosetta, standing slightly apart, was also in deep shock. However, unlike the others, he admired not the brute force but the strategy.
Astonishing. Ignoring sheer mana or physical conditioning... in pure technique and completion of movement, he stands above me.
Taylor analyzed each step:
From the very start — the solo challenge, the manner of fighting — everything was bait to make the instructor relax. Then... using hidden power for an instant burst? Grollan grew used to his previous tempo, lost vigilance, and simply couldn’t react in time.
That’s how it looked from the outside: meticulous preparation, lulling the enemy’s guard, and a lightning counterstrike. Kun had deliberately staged the fight so his actions would be read that way. The fewer who knew your true trump — the Vision Technique — the better.
And yet...
The senior instructor frowned slightly as he watched the commotion.
There was one point that would not leave him. Speed alone was not enough to so cleanly deceive a first-class Weapon Aura master.
Kun had been fast at the final moment, that was true. But not so fast as to become invisible to an experienced knight.
Moreover... Grollan had for a moment seemed to freeze.
The senior instructor did not know about the perceptual distortion caused by the Dark Arts.
And that chilling aura...
Just before the burst, something from the boy had been so grim that even he, a master at Expert level, had felt a fleeting shiver. The energy seemed too dark, too “inhuman.”
Kun Zoldic. What are you really studying?
Swallowing that question, the senior instructor ordered:
— Carry him to the infirmary at once!
He understood: from this moment the life of the Third Moat would orbit around this boy.
— The trial will continue after he is taken away!
7.
Kun regained consciousness after some time. A faint smell of salves struck his nose. He found himself sitting on a narrow cot in the castle. Before him, an old man in a white coat fussed, scissors clicking in measured rhythm.
Hm.
The place was surprisingly clean and bright, which did not at all fit the stern atmosphere of Lion’s Moat. This was the infirmary attached to the main keep, and the old man was the resident medic.
To think — in Lion’s Moat, where any injury usually means expulsion, there was a hospital.
Apparently it wasn’t special treatment — simply the rule for those who passed the first stage.
Click, click.
The medic worked confidently: rubbing herbs with anesthetic and coagulant properties, stitching wounds.
The methods were more field medicine than scholarly. Then again, the Zoldics even had different doctors.
The old man finally sighed heavily and spoke:
— You’re lucky. Lacerations only — no serious internal damage.
He finished suturing the collarbone and the flank injured when Kun hit the tree.
— You’ll be able to walk right now, and after three or four days’ rest you’ll return to training.
Apparently the instinctive way Kun had fallen had saved his life.
— But what a sturdy lad you are.
“...?”
— I used an ointment, but the whole time I sewed you with a needle, you didn’t even flinch once. Where did you come from?
Kun only gave a crooked smile to himself.
If only you knew how many times they stitched me up with no anesthetic at all...
He did not explain. He simply remained silent.
— Ah, you’re a boring sort, — the medic straightened his aching back and headed for the door. — Take care of yourself.
Left alone, Kun made himself comfortable on the bed.
Phew.
The instructor who had brought him here was surely already reporting what had happened to the authorities. Which meant...
Kun settled into a meditative pose and closed his eyes. Inhale, exhale. Using the breathing method of Supernatural Power and Divine Madness, he began mentally reconstructing the details of the fight.
For a master this was a mandatory ritual: analyze every miss and every success. First he evaluated the work of the Vision Technique.
Not bad for a first time.
The art proved unusually effective and versatile even at the initial level.
Now I can only confuse senses and paralyze a master’s thought for a moment, but what then?
Kun knew: at peak mastery the technique could create whole worlds of illusion. It was precisely for that possibility he had decided three months ago to go it alone.
The main problem was that the effect depended on the opponent’s strength of spirit.
To breach a Weapon Aura master’s barrier, Kun had to pour out an enormous amount of mental energy. That was why his brain had “overheated,” causing the nosebleed.
There were ways to eliminate that drawback, but the best was to raise his personal power level.
Kun pushed thoughts of Myung’s techniques aside and inhaled deeply again. His mind sketched a precise picture: Instructor Grollan with shield and sword.
This was not mere memory but a living reconstruction. Kun possessed incredible concentration. He slowed and sped the fight in his head, dissecting every movement: from strike force to foot placement.
Here I need to enter half a beat later.
And here, on the contrary, be faster.
Here the grip on the sword should be relaxed...
He understood that if he honed these details, in time he would be able to face an instructor even without magical tricks.
Two days later.
Tuk-tuk—.
— Ethan, are you in there?
Kun, who had continued meditating all this time, opened his eyes.
— The head of general administration, Vail, requests you. If you can move, prepare to go at once.
Vail. Head of administration of Lion’s Moat and commander of the Black Lion order. This was the first time a person of that rank had personally summoned Kun.