101 – Spar (2)

It was an unexpected request.

To suddenly ask for a spar in the royal palace.

An absurd request,

but one he couldn’t refuse.

Because the one who made that request wasn’t just anyone.

How many would dare to say they didn’t want to spar

before his very face?

It was a rejection of the Emperor of the Empire, after all.

“Reindel, what do you make of it?

Doesn’t it seem…amusing?”

“….”

“S…Sifu?”

Without uttering a single word,

Reindel silently gazed upon his student.

He was never one to step forward, but

something was different now.

It almost seemed his eyes were glittering, like the

golden armor he wore,

and his hand, as though intrigued,

continued to stroke his chin.

“Roden, what is your opinion?”

“….”

“I shall not dissuade you.”

*I* shall not dissuade you.

Which is to say, tacit permission for the duel.

At his Sifu’s implicit allowance,

Roden’s pupils wavered.

As if contemplating whether it was truly permissible,

a hesitant look within the young man’s eyes.

“Hahaha, you are quite the tease. Why not simply say

you wished to watch, that you were…intrigued.”

The Emperor’s boisterous laughter cut in, and at once

Roden’s head turned toward me, and

his gaze, resolute as if he’d come to a decision,

filled me with unease.

‘Surely not…’

“…I shall accept.”

“Haha, that’s the spirit!”

“….”

And always,

the foreboding I feel in these moments proves true.

*

A genius unlike any other,

a talent unmatched in this generation.

The Golden Knight’s disciple.

All words that described one boy.

Though but a youth, he held the rank of Apprentice Knight,

Sir Reindel’s sole student, Roden.

His crimson hair, a wild tumble from the early hour,

stirs with his day’s first struggle:

Training.

His method was stark.

Unceasing practice, and nothing more.

When other knights were yet blinking awake in their quarters,

he ran, and ran again, across the training yard.

While others breakfasted and tended to their arms and armor,

he swung his wooden practice sword.

And when those same knights finally crawled forth, sluggishly,

to endure their portion of the day’s exercises,

he stood beside them, bearing the self same burden.

A regimen that turned other men’s stomachs,

a workload that even seasoned knights struggled to meet,

he performed with unwavering resolve.

And him not yet a man grown.

“Hey, Rhoden…doesn’t it ever get to you?”

“Seriously…just watching you is exhausting.

Why push yourself so hard?”

“You don’t have to do this, you’re under Lord Leindel’s wing anyway.

You could learn at your own pace. Take it easy, eh?”

Words tossed his way from fellow knights,

fellow sufferers in the drills.

Truth be told, they might have had a point.

Rhoden was young still, as they said, and even as he was,

he already stood among the stronger of the junior knights.

But Rhoden’s mind held a different view.

“Haha…but if I were to stop here,

I fear I’d be just as still tomorrow…”

The world often paints endeavor as something ardent,

something beautiful.

But in truth, effort leans closer to its inverse:

a thing of pain, a thing of quiet endurance.

“…Ugh, and he’s not even eating.”

“He’s driven, that one…a young whippersnapper, through and through.”

“I’ve noticed him keeping late hours, too…

Guess his growth spurt’s finished, so it doesn’t matter…right?”

Investing spare moments into honing one’s skills,

that is not called effort.

It was merely pastime, nothing that could be considered effort.

Effort (努力):

To strain one’s body and mind to achieve a purpose.

To achieve one’s purpose,

one cuts back on sleep, honing body and mind,

to achieve one’s purpose,

one reduces meals, fortifying body and mind,

to achieve one’s purpose, one severs friendships,

breaking the limits of body and mind.

That was the weight of effort, carried upon the shoulders of one so young.

“…can I do this?”

Roden adjusted the wooden sword handed to him by the servant, striving to face forward.

Before him stood a boy, holding an identical wooden sword.

No matter how skilled, he appeared to be no more than Roden’s own age, a boy clad in black.

His physique was too meager to be called trained,

and his hands were far too delicate to have been holding a sword.

His appearance bore no resemblance to the rumors whispered throughout society.

“…he captured a monster…”

Having grown up amongst knights, Roden knew their strength well.

The strength that set them apart from ordinary men.

Their diligence in managing their diets each day, never shirking training.

He was all too familiar with the organization they possessed, honed through sparring together.

And the title of Commander, bestowed only upon the most exceptional among them.

Only once had Roden crossed swords.

With that man, the Knight Commander.

“…Master… I apologize for saying this, but

you’re far too strong to be of any help for reference…”

A single exchange, only a single exchange was needed, yet it was felt.

The culmination of effort contained within that sword.

And understanding bloomed.

The power held within the title of Knight Commander.

‘…’

Even that Knight Commander had *barely* endured

the monstrosity of the Great Forest.

And that monster, defeated single-handedly by a boy

of near the same age as himself.

‘Lying if I said it didn’t spark… ambition.’

The boy stood, no real stance taken, the wooden sword’s edge

pointed to the ground,

toward that boy he aimed the tip of his own blade.

To gauge just how far his own strength had come.

To ascertain that his own efforts had not been in vain.

“…Before we begin, let me first clarify the rules

for this sparring match.”

The voice of his teacher, whom he’d always respected,

echoed, yet it seemed to fall on deaf ears.

His every nerve was already focused on the tip of his blade

and the opponent standing before him.

“A *Bimu* (比武) is a contest of martial skill.

Killing one another is absolutely forbidden.”

“…”

“Of course, imbuing your weapons with excessive mana

is also prohibited, as are any magics that could cause fatal wounds.”

“…”

“And if one of you is completely disarmed or

rendered incapable of battle, the *Bimu* will immediately—”

“Enough of that. These children are well aware, surely.

Do you truly believe they intend to kill one another?”

“Understood, Your Majesty… Then… begin.”

The moment the word ‘begin’ struck his ears,

Roden burst forward from the ground.

The sword’s tip remained fixed upon his target,

determined to prove himself.

*

From above, descending downwards, the sword strike flew,

Grazing the dark-haired boy’s nose.

“..Tch.”

“….”

Again.

It missed again.

His attack.

The strike he thought perfectly landed,

missed, yet Roden did not cease.

Rotating in the very direction he swung,

he attempted a horizontal slash,

but Jennison braced his wooden sword,

yielding the initiative instead.

*Thwack*—

His foot slammed into Roden’s gut.

“Kuh..heok..”

“….”

Not overwhelmingly strong, but a shock one couldn’t call weak,

and he barely managed to remain upright,

bracing himself with his wooden sword.

Roden charged relentlessly,

but the situation remained unchanged.

He tried reinforcing the wooden sword,

channeling just enough mana to prevent its shattering,

and he tried imbuing the mana into his body,

directly strengthening himself,

he even churned up the ground, scattering shards,

but

“Hueu..hueu..”

“….”

“Heh..didn’t think it would be this much..”

“..Indeed, you are skilled.”

The situation would not shift, no matter what.

No matter the method, the direction,

or the attack, nothing worked.

Attacks imbued with great force were deflected as if water flowing,

he couldn’t match his speed, even aiming for rapid-fire combos,

and unconventional attacks were equally futile.

Even deliberately closing the distance, provoking a melee,

He kept aiming for my feet, slipping away, and

wherever I charged, his

wooden sword always stood in my way.

Thwack─

Crack, crack, crack─

Thud─

Loden retreated another step,

teeth clenching now.

The blade trembled,

his wrist throbbed.

From his earlier attack, aimed precisely for my wrist.

“Haa… haa…”

“…Wouldn’t you consider stopping?”

He lifted his head again, startled.

By the low voice that reached his ears.

He was looking at him.

With flawlessly dark, clear eyes.

“…Haha, absolutely…I won’t stop.”

“….”

“Truly…you are remarkable. I don’t know how you can be so strong…but I surely cannot win.”

“…Then─”

“Even so.”

Gripping the wavering sword tightly,

he struggled to right himself.

Ignoring the stinging wrist.

He hadn’t repeated those drills all this time

to crumble under this pain.

He hadn’t strived so hard just to give up like this.

“….”

“….”

Further words were unnecessary.

A single sword was more than enough for communication.

He charged again.

With the same force, just like before.

As if anticipating this, his sword

met mine, and

“…!”

“Ugh…heeuup!!”

A different result was unfolding now.

His own blade was beginning to

cleave through his opponent’s, little by little.

The weave of mana, the quality of mana,

the sheer force of the body.

A single strike, drawing forth

everything to its utmost.

Though it was a wooden sword, for now,

it felt capable of cleaving through even steel.

That strike came hurtling toward him,

and at last, something burst from him.

A tiny fleck of blood.

Ever so slight, but

unmistakable proof that his attack had landed,

finally erupted.

“…Magnificent.”

“Ha…hah…thanks for…the com─”

And my eyes closed on their own accord.

Just as my body pitched forward.

*

“…Impressive, both of them.”

“….”

“Ah, you may take that child

to be healed.”

“But…”

“Ah, it’s alright. Besides you, there are still those

who can guard the luggage.”

“….”

Thud, thud─

A grand figure passes by my side.

Clutching the boy I was fighting

just moments ago, preciously in his arms.

He seemed ever so slightly displeased, but what could be done.

His disciple had collapsed like that.

“I am well aware of your skill.”

“…Thank you.”

“Now then, we must discuss

the reward I shall grant you, yes?”