A sharp sound rang through the pre-dawn mountain forest.
The crunch of dry grass, the rustle of fabric, and the crack of air being split apart. It sounded like the roar of a fierce beast, yet with a clear, cool tone that cut through the treetops and reached the village as it began to prepare for the morning meal.
Wolf halted his blade.
He had been swinging with all his might. The friction with the air had heated it, and a faint white mist rose from the steel. He caught his breath and wiped his sweat. Sweat steam trailed from his shoulders just like it did from the sword.
Not bad...
He tested the feel of the brand-new steel sword. The blade was longer, making it feel a bit heavier, but that actually made it easier to swing. Since it had been sitting unused for a while, it caught the air in spots as he swung, but a quick sharpening would fix that.
Wolf was interrupted by the sound of clapping.
"That was rather impressive, Wolf-san."
He turned around to find Lymat standing there. He was a morning person, apparently. With a calm expression, he was applauding.
Wolf ran a hand through his unruly hair.
"Looks like you caught me in an embarrassing moment," he said, a little sheepishly.
"Not in the slightest. That was a rather impressive swing speed. You must train quite diligently."
"It's nothing, really. I was actually lazier back in my adventurer days."
"Oh?" Lymat's eyes lit up. "Would you mind telling me why?"
Wolf gave him a brief summary of his circumstances. Lymat listened quietly, then nodded deeply and drew his own conclusion.
"I see. So your priorities shifted when you gained someone to protect."
"It's not that big of a deal," Wolf said with a shrug.
Lymat placed a hand on his chin and thought for a moment.
This young knight was the type Wolf wasn't good at dealing with. Sometimes he would stare at him from behind those narrow eyes, observing him like a cicada in a cage.
"How about a sparring match as a cooldown for your morning training?" he proposed.
"You've got to be kidding. I heard you're a B-class equivalent knight. I'm no match for you."
"That same B-class knight couldn't lay a finger on the dragon you defeated, though," he pointed out.
"Ah, sorry."
"It's quite all right. I'm not after a serious bout in any case. I make it a habit to do some light exercise in the morning as well. How about it? Just a friendly little match?"
Lymat persisted. His hand had already settled on the hilt of the slender sword at his waist. Though he hid it well, he could sense he might draw at any moment. Beneath that calm exterior, he was thoroughly combative.
"Alright," Wolf conceded.
"Then—" Lymat began.
The two faced each other. They both drew their swords. Wolf took a large step forward and gripped his hilt with both hands. In contrast, Lymat took a half-step and held his sword in one hand.
The wind blew through, bending the treetops heavily. The air grew taut. This was no longer just a spar but a life-or-death match Wolf had been dragged into.
Wolf made the first move.
He closed the distance in a single breath. A downward slash—no doubt about it, it was fast.
Lymat was calm. He deflected the incoming attack, wrapping his slender blade around it as if to entangle it. With graceful footwork, he slipped behind him and gave his back a light push.
Wolf stumbled. He barely managed to keep from falling. The Lymat who had been in front of him a moment ago was now behind him. It felt like he had been tricked by a ghost.
"What's wrong?" he taunted, beckoning with his hand.
Wolf regained his stance and closed the distance again. He adjusted his approach, swinging shorter and more compactly. He increased the speed of his retreating blade, unleashing a flurry of attacks.
But Lymat gracefully deflected each incoming strike. Moving his slender blade with dexterity, he remained rooted in place, focusing entirely on defense. Even with his compact swings, Wolf wasn't holding back. Yet Lymat's face stayed calm. With his naturally smug expression, he still seemed to be sizing him up.
Parrying looked simple, but it was actually an extremely advanced technique. A level-4 skill, it could be refined to handle any type of weapon or attack. Lymat placed particular emphasis on this Parry skill; against a human opponent, he had the power to overwhelm even an A-class adventurer.
Wolf put some distance between them. He was out of breath without realizing it. His body felt heavy. The sword in his hand seemed incredibly weighty. That was the price of pushing himself so hard.
He probably had only one more swing left in him at full power, no more tricks, so he decided to put his whole soul into the next swing.
"Oooooooh!" he roared, twisting his body, and swung with all his might in a horizontal arc.
The flash of his blade was like light itself, and for the first time, Lymat's expression cracked. He quickly switched to a two-handed grip and blocked. He sensed the danger and put everything he had into deflecting the sword's trajectory.
If he failed, his torso would be cleaved in two—
GIIING!!
A harsh sound, like a falling temple bell, rang out. Wolf's full-powered horizontal slash had struck true.
Spinning through the air and stabbing into the ground was a slender blade.
"Oh dear..." Lymat murmured, eyeing the broken sword—snapped clean near the hilt. All fight drained from him, he scratched his temple with an embarrassed look. "That was Mithril, you know."
"Mi—Mithril!!" Wolf exclaimed, his eyes wide.
Mithril was a super-famous magical metal. Even smelting it or crafting it into equipment required a skill of level 6 or higher. Needless to say, it was expensive; the value of the blade Wolf had snapped was enough to easily build a small house.
"I'm so sorry," Wolf stammered. "I'll definitely pay you back—"
Even if Wolf spent ten or twenty years picking herbs in the mountains, it wouldn't be an amount he could afford.
Lymat laughed out loud. "It's quite all right. It's a consumable item, so I can simply file for a replacement. But goodness—breaking Mithril. Your strength is truly remarkable."
"No, not really..." Wolf muttered, looking at his own sword. It had chipped, which was only to be expected after cutting Mithril. He'd have to sharpen it later.
"But you're not fully controlling that power, are you?" Lymat's eyes glinted.
"The gap between the skill you possess and the potential your body holds is far too wide," he continued. "Think of it this way... you're like a small golem fitted with a high-performance magical engine. Your own power is controlling you rather than the other way around."
"You can tell?" Wolf asked, a little defensively.
"Do you have any notion of what I'm referring to?" he pressed.
Wolf quickly deflected. If anyone found out his daughter had strengthened him, he didn't know who might become interested in him next.
"It seems you find yourself in rather complicated circumstances," Lymat observed.
"Lymat-san," Wolf said, changing the subject. "I have a request."
"What is it?"
"Would you train me?"
"I decline," he said simply.
He refused him outright, then gave his reason. "Unless you genuinely wish to become stronger. But in your day-to-day life, I see no need for that degree of combat strength. Am I mistaken?"
Lymat was right.
He had already retired from adventuring and was living quietly in his small hometown. His daughter had also grown strong enough to protect herself. There was no longer any reason for Wolf to become stronger.
"You're right. That's exactly it," Wolf admitted.
He made up his mind. At that moment, Lymat's eyes narrowed like a serpent's.
After training, as he was heading back to eat breakfast, Wolf found Anri pacing in front of his house. When she spotted him, she lightly straightened her bangs and approached.
"Good morning, Wolf-sama," she said, her cheerful greeting echoing through the village.
At the same time, a stomach growled. It wasn't Wolf's. It was Anri's.
Her face turned as red as a freshly forged sword. Wolf chuckled softly.
"Would you like to join me for breakfast?" he offered.
"...Yes! I would love to!" Anri's eyes sparkled.
This morning's breakfast was a mixed rice dish made with barley rice, mountain vegetables, and plenty of mushrooms. White abalone mushrooms, shiitake, and other varieties, along with burdock root, carrots, and bracken. After a quick stir-fry in a pot, fish stock was added. Honey, salt, and sake finished the seasoning.
"That smells wonderful," Anri said, reacting to the fragrant steam wafting through the air. It was a sharp, pungent scent that still felt refreshing as it went down her throat.
Standing in the kitchen, Wolf answered with a wooden ladle in hand. "It's the scent of ginger. It's perfect for adding aroma."
He tasted it to check if the flavors had blended with the ingredients. He separated the solids and the broth, mixing them with the leftover barley rice. He added a little more broth, and once the flavors had fully permeated, it was done.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," Wolf said, presenting the meal. "I hope you like it."
"Oh my, it looks absolutely delicious!" Anri exclaimed.
She stared at the bowl of mixed barley rice. The scent of ginger was even stronger than before. The colors were vibrant, and the many ingredients glistened appetizingly.
"Thank you for the meal!" she said, and with practiced hands she used her chopsticks to scoop up the mixed rice. Anri couldn't help but let out an audible groan of delight.
"Mmmmmm! It's delicious!!" she declared.
The appearance was rustic and rough, like countryside cooking. But the flavor of the ingredients was different from what she had eaten at the Grand Duke's residence. There was a slight bitterness, but it was skillfully tempered with condiments, finished with a subtle sweetness, and the chilled barley rice, combined with the hot broth, achieved just the right softness and temperature.
The roughness had been smoothed out, resulting in an overall gentle flavor.
"So this is Wolf-sama's cooking," Anri said, holding the bowl lovingly in her hands.
Lymat and Dallas, who shared the meal, also gave it high praise.
"This is great!" Dallas said.
"You could quite literally open a shop in the capital with this," Lymat added.
"Though I wish I could offer meat or fish as well," Wolf said. Not only were they expensive, but he had been consciously cutting back on them lately. If he ate too much meat, Reminia would get angry. That keen-eyed daughter of his would surely notice even the slightest change in his physique.
"Pay it no mind," Lymat teased. "It's still far better than Anri-sama's cooking."
"L-Lymat...!" Anri sputtered.
"Do you cook as well, Anri-sama?" Wolf asked.
"I only started recently." Anri paused. "It's bride training."
"Bride training, is it not, Anri-sama?" Lymat interjected with a wink.
"I-It's none of your business, Lymat! I'll improve! I'll get better from now on!"
"If you're fine with country cooking, I'd be happy to teach you," Wolf offered. He had lived alone before meeting Reminia. He had all the skills needed to survive on his own. His cooking skill was even at level 2, enough to prepare not only normal meals but large game animals.
At Wolf's offer, Anri's eyes lit up. "Yes! Please do!" she exclaimed.
For some reason, the princess knight pressed her hands to the floor in a formal bow.
Summary:
Wolf completes his morning sword practice, testing a new steel blade and feeling its weight. Lymat observes him and requests a sparring match, which escalates into a serious duel where Wolf's immense strength shatters his Mithril sword. Lymat refuses to train Wolf, sensing he lacks true motivation, but his narrowed eyes at the chapter's end suggest deeper intrigue.
Trivia:
Wolf's daughter Reminia has the ability to strengthen him, which he keeps secret.
Lymat is a B-class equivalent knight who can overwhelm A-class adventurers in combat.
The Parry skill is a level-4 technique that can be refined to handle any weapon or attack.
Mithril is a super-famous magical metal requiring level 6+ skills to work with.
Wolf's steel sword chipped after cutting through Lymat's Mithril blade.
Anri has recently started learning cooking as part of "bride training."
Wolf has Cooking skill level 2, enough to prepare large game animals.
Wolf used to be lazier as an adventurer than he is now in retirement.
Lymat is a morning person who appears to observe Wolf like a "cicada in a cage."
Dallas is a character who shares meals with Wolf, Lymat, and Anri.
Notes:
• Wolf - A 42-year-old former A-rank adventurer now operating at SSS-rank levels, he retired to Nicalas Village to raise his daughter, Reminia, as a humble farmer and craftsman. Though soot-stained and calm, this protective, curly-haired father possesses immense, beyond-human strength. A pragmatic, understated mentor, he leads by example, balancing quiet devotion with the quiet authority of a seasoned guardian.
• Lymat - A young, B-rank knight and mage serving under Henri. With pale green curls and narrow eyes, she is a pragmatic, observant attendant who uses far-seeing goggles for reconnaissance. Skilled in swordsmanship and respectful in speech, she acts as a capable adventurer. Working alongside Wolf and Dallas, she is increasingly awed by Wolf's abilities, though remains suspicious of his secret knowledge of dragons.
• Anri - A beautiful half-elf princess knight and daughter of Grand Duke Hairyl, she is a B-rank adventurer, Captain of the Blue Brigade, and frontier vigilante. With blonde hair, pale skin, and a slender, muscular frame, she carries an aristocratic bearing. Recently rescued after being carried off by a dragon, she is Wolf’s devoted fiancée, possessing absolute confidence in his strength.
• Dallas - A B-rank knight, adventurer, and mage, he serves as Anri's attendant and Lymat's companion. Clad in black robes, he wields wind magic like Silphine Guard and Zin Vitt Fin. Though nervous and prone to visible stress in tense situations, he is a capable combatant who works alongside Wolf. He speaks casually, often displaying more emotion than Lymat, and was involved in the ruse regarding Anri's kidnapping.
• Reminia - Fifteen-year-old Great Hero of Straval and researcher of the Double World Theory, this willful, intelligent girl sports striking red hair, amethyst eyes, and a slender build. A dedicated protector of her father, Wolf, she balances a tomboyish exterior with immense, limited-use magic—including holy relics and teleportation. Her speech shifts between analytical precision and deep devotion to him.