For the past couple of months, Lephiri had been met with one surprise after another.
And understandably so.
Howell's ability to understand and apply what he learned far surpassed the level of children his age.
Could even an adult skip through stages this quickly?
Physical training under Aaron.
Holy-art training under Lephiri.
It was obvious that he was growing rapidly by pursuing both at the same time.
His growth in holy arts was especially remarkable.
His fundamentally kind nature, tremendous comprehension, and drive to act had all combined, producing learning results on an entirely different level.
"Hohoho."
Lephiri thought it had been good that they had spoken so honestly.
Howell beginning to reflect on his own nature had been a brilliant move.
It was as though he had shed an old skin and emerged as a butterfly.
By now, Howell had likely reached a mindset where he genuinely wanted growth and could accept learning without reservation.
In that respect, there were probably very few children his age who could surpass him.
'And yet, even so, one mystery remains unresolved.'
There was something about him that simply did not feel like a ten-year-old.
Even in Lephiri's long life, she had never encountered anything quite like it.
Precocious?
Composed?
No.
It simply felt natural.
As though an adult were living inside the body of a ten-year-old child.
Aaron had mentioned the same thing.
Though he had added that he could only sense it through his wild instincts and did not know exactly what it was.
'Hoho. I should speak with Denia.'
Lephiri decided to meet Denia after dinner.
If the matter concerned Howell, speaking with Denia was the right thing to do.
After all, Denia was Howell's guarantor and served as something akin to his mother.
Before long, Lephiri was seated across from Denia in the nursing home director's office.
"You already know Howell's nature well enough. What do you make of that old-soul temperament of his?"
"Several elders who have spoken with Howell have all said the same thing. Since we don't know the reason, I suppose we should consider it an aftereffect of his sleeping sickness."
"A remnant of the sleeping sickness. I suppose that may be all there is to it."
"Yes. It isn't something that poses any immediate danger to Howell's health, so I choose to view it positively."
"If that is how you wish to see it, then I agree."
Lephiri took a sip of tea.
Then she shifted to another subject.
"Denia, what do you think of Howell's constitution?"
"His constitution? What do you mean? Don't tell me his sleeping sickness has returned?"
"It seems you weren't aware. No, I should have told you earlier. Perhaps old age has finally made me senile, because it slipped my mind. My apologies."
Lephiri's brow twitched, and she blinked several times.
"Denia, do you know of the Adventure King?"
"Of course. The Adventure King Antamod. He's also known as the teacher of Gazbi Le Boria, the man who founded the Levoria Kingdom. Stories about the Adventure King are famous in children's books and various oral traditions as well."
"Exactly. The tale of him driving out a dimensional monster alongside Gazbi, the first king of Levoria, is the stuff of children's dreams."
Denia tried to understand the true meaning behind Lephiri's words.
They had been talking about Howell.
Why had the conversation suddenly shifted to Antamod?
Her question was answered almost immediately.
"Antamod's unusual constitution is clearly described even in children's books."
"Wait. Elder Lephiri, are you saying Howell has the same constitution as the Adventure King?"
"Hoho. As expected, you're quick on the uptake. If one examines the unofficial histories passed down through Antamod's family, the similarities are considerable."
"Mm......"
It was not something she could simply sympathize with or celebrate.
The word glory suited the life of the Adventure King Antamod.
But his life had also been an endless succession of hardships.
'The lives of heroes...... are only called beautiful when people look back at the traces of their glory. Living through them is rarely so wondrous.'
Who was Denia?
She was a woman who had managed Grixita Nursing Home for many years and had met countless elderly residents.
Most of those elders were people worthy of being included in biographies of great figures.
And Denia was the one who had looked after them through the final chapters of their lives.
"What do you want to do, Elder Lephiri?"
"What can we do about Howell being born with a constitution similar to the Adventure King's? This too must be part of the flow of the world. All we can do is help Howell deviate from that fate a little."
Lephiri drained her tea.
"If Howell's constitution is truly similar to the Adventure King's, then he should be capable of taking in all kinds of teachings. And as it happens, this place is full of old people. Every one of them will want to teach plenty to Howell, whom they see as a grandson."
"But I'm worried about Howell's health."
"It has already been several months, hasn't it? From what Aaron and I have observed during that time, I think you can ease your worries somewhat."
"Mm...... So you want Howell to start receiving instruction from several different elders now?"
"Exactly. And while we're at it, why not give the elders something worthwhile to enjoy at the end of their lives? Hohoho."
"If things proceed as you say, he'll grow into an extraordinary person."
"Of course. He's the child who will one day succeed you as the caretaker of Grixita Nursing Home. He should be able to surpass us old people easily."
After that, the two spent the entire night establishing the standards for Howell's education.
It was the starting point of a path that would one day carve countless new lines into world history.
***
After receiving Elder Lephiri's advice, I devoted myself to training even more intensely.
My purpose had also become much clearer.
All I had to do was move forward while holding on to that precious mindset.
'It's not as though my values changed overnight. The direction toward my destination simply became clearer.'
That was why I felt refreshed.
'Still, practicing holy arts is starting to get difficult.'
There had once been a time when I thought holy arts were among the easiest disciplines to train.
Assuming I really did have a kind nature as Elder Lephiri said, I thought I'd simply continue to grow if I added enough repeated practice.
Reality was not so accommodating.
'Ugh. I guess there really are no free or easy paths in this world.'
It was difficult to practice healing when I couldn't deliberately harm something with the intention of treating it afterward.
That was especially true for detoxification and curse-breaking.
'Still, I know how to operate them, so I'll be able to use them someday.'
Reluctantly setting aside my disappointment, I decided to temporarily move restorative holy arts down from the top of my training priorities.
As soon as I made that decision, one face came to mind.
Elder Aaron, the Mercenary King.
'In the end, I'm just repeating the same cycle. Physical training and restorative holy arts keep circling back into each other.'
Unlike holy arts, which felt as though I'd hit a wall, physical training was a field where results came in proportion to the time invested.
So I went to Elder Aaron and decided to undergo his hellish training again.
But once I resumed physical conditioning in earnest, it was no easier than before.
Elder Aaron's hellish training had somehow become even harsher.
It was almost impressive how the intensity increased every single time.
"Not yet! Keep moving!"
'Ugh...... Maybe I should just go back to practicing holy arts......'
Enduring training that violently stimulated my entire body was by no means easy with the body of a ten-year-old.
Being bigger than other children my age and having good athletic ability only took me so far.
My whole body creaked as though it no longer belonged to me.
"Cadence and movement! On one: I! On two: grow stronger!"
"Ugh......"
"One!"
"......I!"
"Two!"
"Grow stronger!"
I scraped together every last bit of strength I had.
I couldn't even slack off for a moment, because Elder Aaron was exercising right beside me.
This old man wasn't someone who merely ordered others around.
He often trained alongside me while teaching.
"Kwahahaha! Repeat the set!"
"Repeat!"
I wondered how long we were going to keep doing this nonsense.
Still, after suffering through a hard day's training and then resting, I could genuinely feel the improvement.
The next morning, when I began a new day, I could clearly do more repetitions than the day before.
Even reaching the previous day's count became easier and easier.
Just like that, a full week passed.
"Huh? Aren't we exercising today?"
"You brat. If I keep overworking your muscles nonstop, they won't grow. You've got to give them proper time to recover."
'That's such an obvious principle. Hearing it from Elder Aaron is somehow surprising.'
"Sit beside me."
"Yes."
"I heard from Sister Lephiri yesterday. Apparently the reason you got hurt before was because you tried some trick."
"Ahaha...... Yes."
"Kwahaha. Tricks are a perfectly good option. For a brat like you who's willing to use tricks, I'll pass on exactly what you need. Behold—the Mercenary King's Secret Techniques!"
"The M-Mercenary King's Secret Techniques?"
"That's right."
My mouth fell open before I even realized it.
These weren't just ordinary techniques.
They were "secret techniques."
Something special used only by the Mercenary King.
Maybe I would even become the one and only successor to the Mercenary King's Secret Techniques.
Elder Aaron took a stance first, and I roughly copied him, clutching my pounding chest.
But the moment I saw the true face of the Mercenary King's Secret Techniques, my disappointment was beyond words.
"......"
A well-timed leg sweep.
A deadly eye jab.
A solar plexus strike that robbed the opponent of breath.
A desperate groin attack.
He had added dramatic descriptions to each one in his own way......
But weren't these just dirty fighting techniques?
'These are really secret techniques......?'
The so-called secret techniques he taught afterward were all the same.
Throwing sand to threaten the opponent's vision.
A thrilling yank of body hair.
Emergency run-for-your-life retreat.
Ultimate fight-while-walking-backward technique.
"......"
"What? Why are you making that face?"
"Elder Aaron...... this isn't right. How can the Mercenary King's Secret Techniques be a bunch of sneaky, weird moves like these......? You're joking, right?"
"You spoiled little brat. These secret techniques are the very finishing moves that kept me alive when I was young!"
"......"
"Think about it. Mercenaries come in all kinds, from former knights to third-rate mages. Do you think it was easy for someone like me, who didn't have a damn thing, to climb all the way to the position of Mercenary King?"
"Uh...... It must've been hard?"
"Exactly. I've crossed the threshold of death more times than I can count. When you're trying to survive, what wouldn't you do? Is striking a vital point shameful when your life is about to be cut short?"
"......"
He wasn't entirely wrong.
Even if it was cowardly, survival sometimes demanded exactly that.
If I had reincarnated in a slum instead of this nursing home, I would have done whatever it took to survive too.
Once I thought through examples like that, the significance of the Mercenary King's Secret Techniques suddenly became much clearer.
"Okay. I'll learn them properly."
"Kwah! Good! That's the attitude!"
Elder Aaron demonstrated the movements again.
As I followed each one, my thoughts gradually began to change.
Surprisingly, the underhanded techniques were fairly systematic.
There was a proper way to hook someone's leg, a proper moment to jab the eyes.
Even a groin attack wasn't something to throw out carelessly.
You had to move the instant a definite opportunity appeared.
'These aren't techniques you master after trying them once or twice. They're skills completed through relentless effort and experience.'
After spending the entire day from morning until evening learning the Mercenary King's Secret Techniques, Elder Aaron laughed heartily.
"Howell, rejoice. You've finally earned the right."
"Huh? The right to what?"
"The right to give names to your muscle children."
"......?"
I rubbed my brow.
This muscle-bound old man was starting again.