WHOOSH.
A heavy sound cleaving the air echoed across the training grounds.
The high stance—raising the wooden sword high into the sky, then swinging it down toward the ground.
Even after running ten laps around the training grounds, Kalios kept swinging his wooden sword.
From the time he came out at dawn until the sun stood high in the sky, he swung his wooden sword again and again.
Knights had come out to train, and servants passing by stopped to watch him, but Kalios repeated his swings without paying their gazes the slightest attention.
As he swung the wooden sword, he was thoroughly checking his physical condition.
‘It's the absolute worst. If I went to the battlefield like this, I'd die without being able to do a thing.’
Kalios's assessment of his own body was extremely cold.
A body that was the absolute worst.
Because it was a body that had spent over 16 years holed up in a room without training even once, its condition could only be all the worse.
It lacked even the muscle needed to live, and as a result, its strength was so weak it couldn't lift even 2kg.
And what about its stamina?
Its stamina was so wretched that he panted after walking a mere two or three minutes.
Even a seven-year-old kid running around the village at play wouldn't have stamina this weak.
Kalios's body could be called a wreck through and through.
Having never once lifted anything heavy, his wrists and even his arms must have been throbbing from merely holding a wooden sword that weighed just over 1kg.
The wooden sword Kalios held had an iron core embedded inside, making it heavier than an ordinary wooden sword.
Given his physical condition, he should have been training with an ordinary wooden sword, but the difference was only 500 or 600g to begin with.
Some would say that difference was significant, but Kalios regarded it purely as a weight of willpower.
A weight he could fully bear as long as he believed he could and put in the effort.
He had no intention of compromising in the slightest when it came to training his body.
That was why he kept swinging the heavy wooden sword.
A body was not something one could change immediately just by wanting to.
There were no shortcuts to making the body strong; it was only possible through steady effort.
Kalios knew this all too well, and he swung his wooden sword in silence.
Knowing that building habits into the body required repetition, Kalios kept moving, heedless of the eyes around him.
After training like that until nearly nightfall, he would return to his room and examine his insides.
Training to build a strong body mattered to a knight, but what mattered most was mana.
The difference between a knight and one who wasn't lay in mana.
Those who could sense and use mana could become knights, while for those who could neither sense nor use it, becoming a knight was nearly impossible.
Kalios had been a powerhouse recognized by the continent, a man called the Sword Master.
Just as with the sword, he had shown outstanding talent with mana.
No matter that his body had changed, the experience from back then didn't disappear.
Kalios was able to sense mana quickly.
The mana flowing through the air, the mana within his body.
He looked inward and observed the flow of mana.
‘What a truly absurd body.’
A strange expression settled on Kalios's face as he examined his insides.
There was a lot of mana in his body.
Mana that could never have gathered without consuming many elixirs had piled up in his body, layer upon layer.
If he could just make all the mana inside his own, he could probably become a Mid-Grade Knight.
A Mid-Grade Knight was a realm at which one could give form to mana.
A stage at which one had set a foot on the path to becoming a superhuman.
Considering that, it could be called very fortunate, but things in the world were never that easy.
The mana was clumped together, but the problem was that it was obstructing the normal flow of mana.
As a result, his meridians could only be a mess, and his body could only grow weak.
If he kept living in this state, he would die within a few years of reaching adulthood.
‘Looks like they fed this body elixirs because it was weak. Maybe that's not entirely a bad thing? If I can just restore my meridians, I'll at least be guaranteed more mana than others.’
An ordinary illness could easily have been cured with elixirs, but one of the reasons Kalios's body was weak was that it drew the surrounding mana into itself.
That in itself wasn't a problem, but the fact that there was no way to release the mana it took in was.
With it only accumulating in his body, problems were bound to arise.
“Phew….”
Having looked inward at his body, he opened his eyes and slowly let out a breath.
DRIP, DRIP.
Sweat dripped from his hair as he stood up.
His whole body was drenched; his sweat-soaked clothes were stained yellow and gave off a foul stench.
What he had just done while looking inward was the work of gradually loosening the stagnant mana.
Only by restoring his wrecked meridians to normal could he even talk about the future.
Guiding the stagnant mana onto the proper path.
Normalizing the flow of mana while training his body was one of the things he currently had to do.
‘It's a long, long way off.’
It was only possible because he had been a Sword Master.
If anyone else attempted this, a hundred out of a hundred would either die on the spot or end up in a vegetative state.
Controlling mana itself demanded delicacy and patience, so most people couldn't do it.
Even for him, a former Sword Master, it was very hard work.
But if he wanted a future, it had to be resolved.
It was a task that would take at least a year, but Kalios decided to think positively.
Simply loosening all of the mana and training his body would make him a Mid-Grade Knight.
Considering that it had taken him five years to become a Mid-Grade Knight in his past life, it would cut the time down overwhelmingly.
Thinking of it that way, it wasn't something he couldn't do.
“First… I need to wash up.”
He screwed up his eyes at the foul smell coming off his body and walked off.
***
“Young Master!”
Swinging his wooden sword in a corner of the training grounds, Kalios turned his head at the voice calling him.
He saw one of the servants hurrying toward him.
As he kept swinging his wooden sword, the servant hurriedly spoke.
“The family head is asking for you. Please hurry.”
At the words that Luhaman, head of the Leon family, was looking for him, Kalios stopped mid-swing.
It was a family head summoning him, and as a member of the family, he had to answer that summons.
Kalios handed the wooden sword he was holding to Deon, who had been watching from the side.
After seeing Deon take the sword, he pulled out a towel and wiped the sweat from his face and neck.
“Let's go now.”
“Now? You could wash up first.”
“The family head is calling for me—who has time to wash? Lead the way, now.”
The servant hesitated at Kalios's words, then soon nodded.
There wasn't the slightest hesitation in Kalios as he followed the servant.
What was there to hesitate about when going to see his father?
He was confident that, being a renowned family of swordsmanship, they would readily understand the smell of sweat on him.
Following the servant, Kalios arrived in front of the family head's office.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Young Master Kalios is here.”
The servant said this as he knocked on the door.
“Send him in.”
The reply came from inside.
At Luhaman's voice, the servant opened the door and stepped back.
Kalios watched him, then stepped inside.
Slowly entering the family head's office, he looked around with a wistful expression.
‘It's been a while since I was here, too.’
It was the office he used to use.
That was why seeing the office changed after hundreds of years gave him a strange feeling.
Back when he used the office, the walls had been decorated with swords.
Collecting the swords of those he had personally faced and defeated and displaying them had been one of his hobbies.
So whenever he returned from war, the office would fill with weapons.
But in the office 200 years later, not one could be found, save for a single sword.
A single sword displayed behind the family head.
‘Haven't seen that in a while either.’
A look of fond recognition came over Kalios's face as he gazed at the sword.
It was the sword Kalios had once given to his son.
Forged by the most renowned artisan on the continent, whom he had brought in, it was a blade fine enough that even Kalios himself coveted it.
He remembered its name being ‘Sigmund.’
He hadn't expected that sword to still remain, even now, two hundred years later.
Teaching his son the sword had been quite enjoyable.
“Kalios.”
As he was lost in memories, Luhaman's voice reached his ears.
At that, Kalios came out of his reverie and looked at Luhaman.
Red eyes, which could be called the symbol of the Leon family, were fixed on him.
“I heard you won a spar against Lanius.”
“I was lucky.”
“Lucky... Yes, I suppose if beating a knight in a spar was luck, then it could be called luck.”
Kalios shrugged at Luhaman's words.
Kalios had not lied in the least.
Had Lanius not let his guard down in their spar—had he taken it on properly—there would have been no way for Kalios to beat him in his current condition.
There had been carelessness, and he had induced it.
That was all.
Since it was a spar that wouldn't have held up without that carelessness in the first place, beating Lanius could be seen as luck playing its part.
“However lucky you were, if you beat a knight, then there must still be some potential.”
Tap, tap.
Looking at Kalios, Luhaman tapped on the desk.
Tapping the desk at regular intervals, Luhaman seemed lost in thought for a moment.
Kalios didn't press him to speak quickly.
It was a shame his training had been interrupted midway, but he had been able to see his old office again and the sword his son had used, and that alone gave Kalios great satisfaction.
So he could wait as long as it took for Luhaman to speak.
“Kalios. I gave up on you.”
“...Yes.”
Kalios faltered at Luhaman's next words.
Words saying he had given up on him.
He had flinched for a moment, but it wasn't that strange for Luhaman to have given up on Kalios.
Considering everything this body had done until now, it wouldn't have been strange if he'd been discarded long ago.
Moreover, this was a father telling his son he had given up on him.
Those words couldn't have been easy for Luhaman either.
Kalios could fully understand.
“However. For the last time—truly the last time—I have decided to believe in you once more.”
Luhaman took something out of his desk and handed it to Kalios.
It was an invitation.
An invitation stamped with the seal of the Cartel Academy.
“Go to the Academy. Prove the worth of your existence there.”
Proof of worth.
Luhaman was telling him to prove that he was worthy of being a member of the Leon family.