"What are you doing? I told you to stab me."
Kairon urged the boy on.
There was a strange interest on his face.
Kairon was the one who had opened his breastplate and exposed a vital point, yet somehow it was the boy who was terrified.
"Urgh..."
Only a weak groan escaped the boy's mouth.
The hand holding the dagger trembled.
What he held was a dagger, and before him was Kairon's heart. If he stabbed it, Kairon would surely die.
Drip.
Yet tears flowed from the boy's eyes instead.
"Please... spare me."
Kairon did not look human at all.
The boy could not imagine that a flimsy piece of metal could kill this monstrous man.
Kairon, the Genesis Sword.
Was he not the man who had entered the gate to the Demon Realm long ago and driven a sword into the Demon King's heart?
When Kairon heard the boy's plea, contempt replaced the interest in his eyes.
"Trash."
Kairon muttered, then.
BOOM!
With a flick of one finger, he exploded the boy's head.
Thud—
Even as the boy's corpse was sprayed through the air and fell, the Recrit Knight Order did not so much as blink.
"All enemies exterminated. Recrit is victorious!"
With that brief report, the war came to an end.
* * *
Ikael's daily routine was simple.
He lay quietly in bed, pretending to be a sickly young master, then sat before a candle at night and cultivated an aura.
'Focus on my heart, not my dantian.'
If the aura of his previous life had felt like carrying sand by the handful to firm up a plain, Desert Aura was clearly different.
'How should I put it? It feels like setting piled-up gunpowder alight and burning it.'
It was aura far more powerful and explosive than that of his previous life.
It could not have been otherwise, since it was the power of Desert Dragon Pkelon, whom he had thought existed only in legend.
At first, the aura had been faint as smoke that scattered when he reached for it. But as he cultivated it again and again, it gradually became more solid.
Now, every time he cultivated an aura, it burned through the candle flame, so he needed several more candles.
'The growth rate is astounding.'
It was a speed that could not even be compared to the ordinary aura he had cultivated in his previous life.
'In my previous life, I devoted my entire life to reaching the Seven-Star Knight.'
That had been the result of pouring effort into his talent.
'But this time, I have a strong Recrit body and Desert Aura as well...'
The thought of how far he could grow with those two added to talent and effort would not stop exciting him.
After cultivating aura all night, Ikael melted onto the bed like candle wax and sprawled there once morning came.
The maids, who did not know why, softened their footsteps so they would not wake him.
"Young Master Ikael must be very tired these days."
"Let's close the door quietly and leave."
After resting for a while, Ikael headed to the Lower Training Ground around the afternoon, avoiding the servants' and maids' eyes.
The Lower Training Ground was perfect for training away from others' eyes.
"L-Look. Young Master Ikael has come."
"Shh!"
Whenever Ikael appeared at the Lower Training Ground, the knights stopped what they were doing and became awkward.
But Ikael had ordered them not to acknowledge him, so they could not even greet him.
Those who had mocked Ikael around the time of the incident especially felt as if they were sitting on thorns.
Regardless, Ikael paid them no mind and chose a wooden sword.
Today, the knights were practicing swordsmanship with wooden dummies set up before them.
It was training to strike the dummies' vital points accurately. If they struck anywhere other than the marked places, their swords would be damaged.
'The more intact the sword, the better you did.'
It was a familiar training method.
Ikael grasped a wooden sword and began warming up.
WHOOSH.
With only one swing, dirt was swept away from the ground.
SWISH, SWISH—
The sword moved freely, as though it were a third arm.
The body immediately carried out the movements he thought of.
It was as though the sword thought on its own.
'No matter how I look at it, Ikael's body is not sickly.'
Even if it housed the aura of the Desert Dragon, it would be useless if the body could not endure it.
Yet Ikael's supposedly sickly body was now more than capable of handling Desert Aura.
In his previous life, he had been a knight for a long time and seen many people die after coveting strength beyond their station.
Yet this body, which had never been honed even once, could handle Desert Dragon Pkelon's aura.
'This is Recrit.'
Ikael's body had taken the dantian-crippling medicine for a long time, so it would be inferior to his other siblings.
For now, at least.
'I have been treated as a sickly young master and spent all my time lying in bed, so falling behind cannot be helped. But catching up to them will be only a matter of time.'
The owner of this body had reached the rank of Seven-Star Knight in his previous life.
That was a difference that could never be ignored.
'And I have a Desert Aura as well.'
- Stronger than anything on earth, it burns a handful of aura to create a vast desert.
It was the description of Desert Aura he had read in an ancient text in his previous life.
When he first saw it, he had snorted at how absurd it was. But seeing his current state, he had no choice but to believe the tale that sounded like a lie.
Not much time had passed since he began cultivating Desert Aura, yet he could clearly feel that he was stronger than before.
Strength filled his arms and legs, and he did not tire as easily as before.
It was as though his heart itself were emitting heat.
It was accumulating three or four times faster and more powerfully than ordinary aura.
Desert Aura dwelling in a superhuman body.
If he could properly use Desert Aura one day, he would reach a realm even his past self, a Seven-Star Knight, had never experienced.
The thought alone made Ikael's body tremble.
Meanwhile, the junior knights were stealing glances at Ikael.
Ikael thought that he was merely warming up, but it looked different to the junior knights.
'Just like Recrit.'
Every knight thought the same.
Talent, genius, realm—none of those words were more precise.
It was only natural for Ikael, who had already reached Seven-Star Knight in his previous life, but he was now displaying incredible swordsmanship.
The knights swallowed.
'He is truly incredible. To see Recrit's sword right before our eyes.'
The ability to wield swordsmanship of this level was itself another realm.
'How much effort would it take to reach such a level? No, is it even a realm one can reach through effort...?'
The knights swallowed their praise inside.
It was only frustrating that, even after seeing such swordsmanship, they could neither ask for instruction nor acknowledge him.
'This is impossible. He has been swinging a sword like that without even getting short of breath?'
SWISH—
Then Ikael, who had moved without any sign of tiring, stopped his sword.
The knights who had been secretly watching him also withdrew their gazes.
They wanted to send him fervent applause if they could.
But because of Ikael's strict order not to acknowledge him, they could only watch in silence.
Just as they thought he might be done, Ikael quietly went and stood before a practice dummy.
The knights were astonished once more.
'Y-Young Master. Surely...'
'Everything until now was only a warm-up?!'
The knights' guess was correct.
Everything Ikael had done until now had merely been a warm-up.
Ikael's training was not ending. It was only beginning now.
"Ahem!"
Ikael gave a deliberate cough, telling them to mind their own business.
'Ah.'
The knights who had been staring openly gave a start and turned their heads.
But they still could not hide their astonishment.
'Recrit's serious training.'
Everyone watched Ikael and the wooden dummy.
WHOOSH—
Ikael raised the wooden sword.
THUD! THUD!
Heavy strikes began to hammer the wooden dummy.
'Wow...!'
The force was impressive, but the speed was also incredible.
The junior knights stopped what they were doing entirely and began watching Ikael.
"To strike a wooden dummy without the weapon breaking even once. Incredible...!"
If a vital point was even slightly off while striking a wooden dummy, the sword would break.
At the junior knights' level, their swords often ended up not merely damaged, but shattered to pieces.
In contrast, Ikael's sword struck the wooden dummy's vital points with remarkable precision, as if he were jabbing them with a finger.
Then two junior knights whispered to each other.
"Young Master Ikael is unbelievably strong!"
"When will the young master's sword break?"
"Will it even break?"
Even at that moment, Ikael's sword was striking the wooden dummy's vital points with precision.
If it had been a real battle, the enemy would already have died dozens of times.
"Hey, shall we make a bet?"
"What? What kind of bet?"
Ikael's swordsmanship was so astounding that someone even forgot the situation and proposed a wager.
It was a rare sight.
"Listen. If the sword is damaged even once, I win. If it stays intact to the end, you win."
"W-What?"
The knight who had been dragged into the wager had no idea whether his side was at an advantage or disadvantage.
No matter how great a swordsman was, their concentration was bound to falter as time passed.
It was only a matter of time before the sword broke.
'But if it is Young Master Ikael...'
If it was Ikael, who bore Recrit blood, perhaps he would finish his training without the sword breaking.
Just then.
CRACK—
Something split from Ikael's direction.
"I did it!!"
The knight who had bet that the sword would be damaged shouted in triumph.
But Ikael turned to the manager with a calm expression.
"I apologize. I broke the dummy."
"N-No, Young Master."
What had broken was not Ikael's sword, but the dummy.
"Th-That is impossible...!"
"A sword-training dummy broke..."
"This is the first time I have ever seen such a thing!"
Until Ikael left the training ground again, no one could so much as breathe.
The senior knight finally shouted.
"All right, everyone, quiet down and focus on your training! Have you forgotten the strict order not to acknowledge him?!"
But the senior knight was no less surprised.
As the person in charge of the training ground, he secretly watched Ikael every time he came.
And each time, his amazement only grew.
'Ikael Pui Recrit... Is he truly the sickly young master I knew?'
Ikael was said to spend all his time lying in bed due to his sickly body.
How could he have changed so completely in an instant?
The senior knight did not dare spread his question around.
The fate of the Lower Training Ground depended on whether he kept Ikael's secret.
But enormous power could be felt without being spoken aloud.
Even if the senior knight did not speak of it, Ikael's strength would reveal itself.
'There may be a great upheaval in Recrit.'
He had that premonition.
* * *
Ikael roughly wiped away his sweat and returned to his palace.
CREAK—
But Ikael was startled when he opened the door.
The state of his room was beyond words.
Blankets and belongings had been rummaged through, as though a thief had broken in.
The maids who were putting the room in order looked at him in alarm.
"Y-Young Master Ikael. It is just that..."
Ikael did not need to hear the maids' explanation to know what had happened.
'That bastard Isitor.'
He could roughly guess.
Taking advantage of Ikael's absence, Isitor must have come looking for the Recrit Sword.
Ikael snorted.
'Not a chance, you bastard.'
He had ripped open the bottom of the bed and hidden the fine sword Cresen there.
He had done this once or twice in his previous life, so it was flawlessly concealed.
'More importantly, this pisses me off.'
Was there truly no one within Recrit who stood on the real Ikael's side?
The servants and maids were one thing, but thinking of the knights of Ikael Palace, who must have stood by and watched Isitor ransack his room, made anger surge up inside him.
'Are they going to follow the stronger siblings first?'
To the knights, he was no more than a sickly young master.
"Hoo..."
Ikael composed himself.
Nothing would change just because he got angry.
If he threw a tantrum recklessly, he would be no different from a bastard like Isitor.
'So I should go take it out on Isitor.'
Ikael quickened his steps.