With Freon's permission, the sparring began. The reason one had to fight three times to skip ahead was simple.
The first victory was put down to luck. The second, to guts. In other words, only by beating three opponents in a row could one be recognized as truly skilled enough for early promotion.
Rohan scoffed at the rule. At an age when a single year made a huge physical difference, beating three older opponents in a row couldn't be explained by the word talented.
Because the trainees were still young, they were sensitive about being overtaken by someone younger than themselves. So the rule had been made to let only those who showed overwhelming strength be promoted early.
Among Gion's children this generation, the eldest son, the eldest daughter, and the third daughter, Yohana, had been promoted early.
And there had been one from another family as well.
'That'll make me the fifth this generation.'
And an early promotion in his 1st year, no less. His siblings had only been promoted in their 2nd year.
Rohan planned to move on to the advanced course within 1 year of being promoted to the intermediate course as well.
'No need to drag out life as a trainee. 3 years is plenty.'
Was even that too slow? He felt impatient, but there was no way to finish faster than 3 years anyway.
"Both of you, take your places!"
At Freon's order, the two boys stood facing each other on the training ground. Rohan's first opponent was Tomoda.
He was twelve, the same age as Leon, and was rated among the top five in the beginner course.
He didn't have to pick from the top ranks; he could have chosen from among any of the kids confirmed for promotion. But Rohan thought that wouldn't be enough.
'Time to start standing out.'
He was still ten. He'd be eleven soon, but it was still early. Even his eldest brother, said to have inherited their father's talent, only began to stand out at twelve.
But simply inheriting the title of Northern Grand Duke wasn't enough for Rohan. His goal wasn't to become head of the Baltran family.
The evil beyond the Wall.
He had to stop the vast malice that would one day cross the Wall.
Time was by no means plentiful. Even if he were given all the time in the world, he doubted he could stop the giants he had faced in his past life.
And, most important of all. Would the giants cross the Wall at the same time in this life as they had in his last?
Rohan had a vague sense of it. That the moment the Baltrans collapsed, the giants coming over had been no coincidence.
'I have to cling to this as if they could come over at any time.'
That meant he had a lot to do. Right now, he needed enough power to roam freely even outside the domain, in order to find Meikan again.
'I can't be stuck floundering in mere training.'
He looked at the boy in front of him. The kid stood a full head taller than him.
It didn't make much of an impression on him. In his past life, Rohan had knocked around as a mercenary for a long time.
Opponents bigger than himself, whether human or monster, he had fought until he was sick of them.
"Youngest young master. I won't go easy on you just because you're of the Baltran direct line."
Rohan's lips curled. The very fact that he'd used polite speech proved he was minding the Baltran that came after Rohan's name.
"Tomoda. Is there rank among trainees? It's an order from the Northern Grand Duke. In the North, his word is as good as an imperial command. You only need to do your best."
"Understood, si... Fine."
Tomoda nodded and lowered his stance with a grim look.
Rohan let out a snort of laughter. What was he even doing with a child?
"Why are you laughing?"
"Ah, sorry."
Misreading Rohan's laugh, Tomoda scowled. He stepped forward and thrust his wooden sword.
Rohan twisted his upper body lightly and dodged the sword. At the same time, he drove his wooden sword into Tomoda just above his right hip.
Tomoda's body crumpled. Had it been a real sword instead of a wooden one, it would have left a large, bleeding wound.
Down on one knee, Tomoda turned his eyes to Rohan. His attack had come first. Yet Rohan's wooden sword had reached his body first.
That was all he could perceive. He couldn't understand how Rohan had dodged his attack and thrust his sword in at the same time.
Rohan glanced at Freon. It would have been fair to declare Rohan the winner on that one blow alone.
But Freon only held his place, lips pressed tightly shut. At his reaction, Rohan smiled.
'Right. It can't end here.'
The children watching hadn't properly seen Rohan's movement just now. They might think it was simple luck. That was why there were three bouts, but Rohan didn't want to waste even one of them.
Overwhelming skill.
And the fear and awe that came with it.
That was the feeling Rohan meant to brand into the eyes of those watching and the bones of the one he fought.
"Get up. The bout isn't over yet."
Tomoda got up, looking dazed. He still didn't seem to understand Rohan's move. But he didn't look like he'd conceded either.
"How long are you going to stand there looking dazed like that? If this were a battlefield, the enemy would have gotten you dozens of times over."
The corners of Freon's mouth rose as he watched. He barely kept his lips from parting by tensing the groove above them.
Rohan saw Freon's expression too, but pretended not to and focused on the bout.
"I'll take you on seriously. Consider it an honor."
Tomoda's brow twitched. What had happened a moment ago seemed forgotten, and he looked filled with rage.
That's more like it. Rohan smiled.
Crossing swords with someone as experienced as him was certainly an honor, but what Rohan had wanted was closer to the reaction Tomoda was showing now.
Tomoda thrust his sword. Unlike before, his movements were controlled. Holding the sword upright, he swung it diagonally as if to shove Rohan back with the edge.
It was an attack that kept a counter in mind. This time Rohan didn't dodge but met it blade to blade.
Tak. The wooden swords met once.
Tak. They met twice.
At that moment, Rohan's sword slid along his opponent's. Like a snake climbing a branch, it slipped over Tomoda's sword and went to bite his shoulder.
Tomoda hastily pulled his upper body back. Rohan's sword stopped in midair. It was like the head of a snake stalking its prey.
For the briefest instant, it spotted an opening at the belly, and the head dropped at a sharp angle.
With his weight already shifted back, Tomoda couldn't defend properly. He hurriedly thrust his sword forward, but there was no strength behind it. His sword was knocked aside by Rohan's, uselessly.
SWISH!
The wooden sword swept across Tomoda's belly, brushing his clothes. This time, too, his belly was unharmed. Wooden swords had no edge.
"If this were a real sword, no, if I'd so much as put magic power into the wooden sword, your upper and lower halves would be parted."
Several of the watching trainees pictured the result and gagged. Even those without such vivid imaginations frowned.
Tomoda's legs gave out, and he slumped to the ground. His brow was trembling. Above his jaw, his face had gone pale.
Tomoda, who had taken the attack directly, had felt death. The experience of a sharp blade slicing across his belly.
This was what it meant for Rohan to go all out. The sword of someone who had crossed the line between life and death countless times.
The killing intent that said he could kill his opponent at any moment.
Anyone who faced Rohan, the Mercenary King of his past life, had to overcome this fear before they could even cross swords with him.
'Did I overdo it?'
Even Freon's pupils were wildly unsteady. His right hand was gripping his sword hilt. He had been ready to spring forward without realizing it.
Seeing his reaction, Rohan sensed it was time to stop.
'Still a little unsatisfying, but it can't be helped.'
It was a half success. He had gifted Tomoda with fear.
But it wasn't yet enough for the watching children. To make them, with their untrained eyes, feel awe, he needed something on a higher level.
"Good work."
Rohan went over to Tomoda and held out his hand. The fear carved into Tomoda's bones reacted.
As if Rohan's hand were coated in poison, he jerked back with a spasm. It was a pathetic sight.
The watching children clicked their tongues. They thought Tomoda was throwing a tantrum because he couldn't accept the outcome.
But Rohan smiled as if he understood.
"As long as you don't point your sword at me, you have no need to fear this sword."
His hand was still held out. The onlookers might not know, but Tomoda did.
The fear carved into his bones told him.
Rohan Baltran.
Follow the child in front of you.
Tomoda took Rohan's hand with a trembling hand. Rohan pulled with his arm and raised him to his feet.
His hands gently patted Tomoda's shoulders as if brushing them off.
Anyone could see it was how a superior treats a subordinate.
There's no rank. He'd said it with his own mouth, and yet he had made Tomoda, who had been under Leon, into one of his own people.
It was a different approach from the one he'd taken with Hatz. If with Hatz he was building a bond of trust, Tomoda he was ruling through fear.
But this too was an excellent quality for a leader. As long as Rohan's power didn't wane, Tomoda could never betray him.
Freon watched the scene with a look of disbelief. Rohan was only a ten-year-old kid.
'Should I be reporting this?'
As he agonized inwardly, the next opponent came forward.
It was Mato, who had been vying with Leon for second place in the beginner course. Rohan hadn't named Leon directly.
If he had, it could have been misread as declaring a rivalry with a sibling who hadn't held his Succession Ceremony. But beating Mato was as good as beating Leon.
That was how evenly matched the two were.
Watching Mato step forward, Rohan spoke.
"Use your magic power."
"What?"
Mato wasn't as soft as Tomoda. He had no intention of showing courtesy to Rohan, who had become his opponent in a bout.
He scowled at Rohan for abruptly telling him to wrap his sword in magic power.
"You're not in a position to give me orders, are you?"
"Ah, suit yourself. It was just a suggestion. It'd be no fun if it ended right at the start."
Mato frowned. The furrow between his brows cut so deep his face no longer looked like a mere twelve-year-old's. That was how well Rohan's provocation had worked.
"Fine. I'll use it. You bring yours out too."
Blue light spread along Mato's wooden sword. At the same time, he looked at Freon. Using magic power would cancel out the whole point of using wooden swords. Even without an edge, its destructive force would exceed a real blade.
But Freon just stood there watching them. It meant he would allow the use of magic power.
Mato turned back to Rohan. Rohan raised the corners of his mouth in a smile.
"I'm fine. I finally made it fun, and if I use it too, it'll stop being fun again."
Not that there was any reason to bring out his mana against Mato, who had formed a single ring. But even setting that aside, Rohan couldn't bring out his mana right now. He could hardly show off fire mana here, could he?
But Mato couldn't know that. Mato's patience hit its limit. Without any signal, his feet moved.
"There's a limit to how much you can look down on me!"
The wooden sword steeped in blue light came down on Rohan's head. The watching trainees swallowed a groan.
It was already too late. Magic power made Mato fast, and Rohan hadn't reacted even by the moment the wooden sword reached the crown of his head.
That was how it looked to the watching trainees. It was no different for Mato.
'......Huh?'
The wooden sword cut through Rohan. It had clearly split him in a straight line from the crown of his head down.
Only the scene everyone had expected never came. The moment the sword passed through Rohan, his form vanished.
WHACK—!
Mato felt a heavy blow to his lower back. He lost his balance.
He sank helplessly to the ground.
Mato turned his head. Rohan was standing behind him. He was looking down at him, smacking his lips.
"Still ends so boringly."
Rohan raised one hand and began picking his ear with a finger. When his gaze landed on him, Mato flinched without meaning to.
"You're not scared of me yet, are you?"
Mato couldn't answer. He should have said no, but his momentary flinch caught in his throat.
"Seeing how slow you are to answer, I'm right. You're still not scared of me."
Phoo— Rohan blew on the finger he'd been picking his ear with. Then, with one corner of his mouth raised, he looked at Mato.
"Then we'll have to keep going. Get up. The bout isn't over yet."
Mato felt it by instinct. That he might regret, for a very long time, having been slow to answer just now.